He heard Bev mutter, “Such a baby” as he walked down the hall to the bathroom. While he waited for the water to run hot, Liam wiped away the congealing blood off his lip and realized he was clenching his teeth and fighting the urge to drive his fist through the mirror.
It was not that he was jealous. Bev was hot, and he wished he could take advantage of it, but Mark was his shy, geeky brother, and the trauma of having an outwardly sweet and stacked girl nursing him back to health was going to be too much for him. Mark was probably already thinking he was in love.
He slammed the medicine cabinet shut and was peeling apart the Band-Aid when it occurred to him that Bev may have been trying to make him jealous. The thought should have made him angrier, given how protective he was of his little brother, but it did not. In fact, he had to wipe the grin off his face to fit the bandage over his split upper lip.
When he got back to the two lovebirds in the living room, his temper and his offending blood were out of sight. “Help me pack up the car, Mark,” he said, “and we can be at the store right when they open.”
“Store?” Mark stared at Bev next to him in a matching armchair.
“REI,” Liam said. “My pack.”
Not looking away from Bev, his darling brother said, “You can have mine. It’s in great shape.”
“Then you won’t have a pack,” Liam said.
“Oh, I’m not going.”
Liam walked over and whacked him on the side of his head. “Fill up the water bottles while I check the tent. The mice only got into my pack, right?” He whacked him again. “Right?”
“Jeez.” Mark got up and headed for the kitchen. “No need to get violent.”
“Tell that to the neighbors. Kind of got me in the mood.”
Bev stood up and came over to him. “How’s the lip?”
“Oh, now you care.”
Eyes bright, she bit back a smile and studied his lip. “Looks like you’ll live.”
He swallowed, feeling his pulse pick up again. Her hair was up in a pony tail, straggly and lopsided, and he had to dig his nails into his palms to stop himself from tearing the rubber band out and combing the long, black strands with his fingers. “Your sister will be disappointed.”
“Nothing new there,” Bev said. He liked the way her eyes could smile without the rest of her face moving.
Mark came back into the room. “How many Nalgene bottles are you bringing, anyway?” He saw Bev standing close to Liam and the slow social calculations on his face were visible from fifteen feet away.
“All of them. The creeks are dry this time of year.”
“That’ll be heavy,” Mark said.
“Better to be tired than dehydrated.”
Mark sighed and went back into the kitchen.
“He’s sweet,” Bev said, and Liam imagined shoving his brother off a cliff, which was all wrong. It was Bev who was trouble.
“Stay away from him.”
“What?” Bev asked, incredulous.
“I mean, please stay away from him. He doesn’t know you’re not as nice as you look. You and your violent relatives.”
She frowned at him, shaking her head. “I think you should rest for a bit before you climb any mountains. Your brains are rattled.”
Agreeing with her, he put an arm around her shoulders and led her to the door, annoyed at how badly he wanted her.
“See you at the office,” he said, and suddenly wished it was Monday.
He did see her at the office. Specifically, the office next door to his.
“I’m moving down here,” she said Monday morning, while George and Rinaldo from the warehouse followed behind her with boxes and computer equipment and a rolling rack of samples.
“Whatever the hell for?”
She frowned at him. “That ivory tower wasn’t working out. My grandfather’s frat lounge, not practical.”
“What are you talking about? It was a perfect way to don the mantle of power.”
“Too cut off from the action. And I kept bumping into the foosball table.” She walked past him, tore a paper towel off a roll in her hand, and began wiping off an old desk. “I’ve put the room to a much better use.”
“Do you want the exercise ball chair?” Rachel wriggled past Liam to talk to Bev.
“God, no. You want it, you got it.”
Rachel nodded. “It’ll be awesome for my abs. And if anyone bothers me, I’ll just throw it at them.”
“Just lock the door to your office if people are bothering you.” Bev smiled at her then turned her attention to Liam. “Oh dear, did you forget your sunscreen?”
Liam crossed his arms over his chest, well aware he had a white mask around his eyes. “Problem with the gear.”
Rachel came over to stare at him, too. “It looks cool. Like Kung Fu Panda. Except the reverse.”
“The sunscreen fell in a pit toilet.” He’d never hike with his brother again. Thirty hours of continuous misery. When Mark wasn’t dropping essential gear into latrines or whining about how tired or hot or cold he was, he was asking about Bev: Is she married? Dating? Sleeping with you?
Wanting to sleep with you?
“It’s kind of cute.” Bev was still staring. “Takes the edge off.”
Liam scowled. “I don’t want any edges off.”
Rachel laughed. “I’d give you some foundation to cover it up, but I don’t have quite that shade of lobster.”
He gave her a cold look down his crimson proboscis then strode back to his own office. Ever since Bev had shown up, he’d found his authority chipping away. Just that morning Carrie at the front desk had actually said hello to him.
Before he could sit down and get some work done, he heard activity in the empty office on the other side of him. “Damn it, Bev,” he muttered, and went out to see Rachel rolling a cart stacked high with binders into the room. She looked up at him and grinned fearlessly.
“She’s going to be our boss in a couple years,” Bev said behind him.
Liam swung around. “You’re taking both my offices?”
“Your offices? They were empty.”
“For a reason.”
She rolled her eyes. “For a jock, you’re not much of a team player.”
“For a couch potato, you’re quite a busybody.”
Laughing, she touched his arm. “Why, Liam—I think you’re finally beginning to understand me.”
He gave her his hardest glare, but she just smiled and walked away. With a limp. “You’re injured.”
“Now maybe you’ll believe I’m not like designed like the rest of you. One little walk and I’m broken.”
“Cut that out.” He got ahead of her and grabbed her shoulders, making her face him. “You just dove in too fast.”
She tensed under his grip and looked down at his hand on her shoulder. Suddenly it was like they were in the dressing room again and her body was pressing up against his. He softened his grip on her shoulders, feeling the heat of her body through her dress.
She wriggled free. “I went one block.”
“It was the sprinting to interrupt a homicide that did it,” he said, his voice rough. “If your sister hadn’t assaulted me you would have been fine. Don’t give up. It’s great. Really.”
“I knew you would gloat.”
“This is gloating?” He drew back. “You want gloating, I’ll give you gloating. I knew you couldn’t do it. I knew all your bravado about hating exercise was just a lie. You’re just too conceited.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Conceited?”
“Can’t be the best, won’t do it.” He shrugged and went over to carry Rachel’s computer monitor for her. “You like to be on top of things. That power-thing again.”
“That is not true.”
“Put it off to the left,” Rachel said, coming in and caressing the vast expanse of oak desktop with her palms. “This thing’s bigger than my bed. I have room for two computers.”
Liam looked at the desk with new eyes. Bed, he thoug
ht then frowned at Bev. There was no reason she should be wearing dresses again. The only people charmed by perfect, oversized breasts were straight men like him, and he was tired of the distraction. “What did you bake today?”
“No time for that. I bought BurnBars.” She strode out. “Maybe that will shut you up.”
The fantasy of her napping on the desk vanished. He hurried after her into her new office. “Who told you?”
She frowned. “Told me what?”
Her confusion stopped him. Smoothing his hand down the front of his shirt, he took a step back. “Never mind—my mother must have told you.”
“Liam, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She gestured at a pile of small boxes on her desk. “If you don’t like BurnBars, don’t eat them. I had a coupon.”
It was just a coincidence. For a moment he had thought Darrin was making trouble, knowing how much he hated any reminders of his father. His overreaction embarrassed him. “Sorry. My dad invented the BurnBar. Back in the early eighties.”
“Your father?”
“Sold it all to Kraft.” So he could devote all his waking and sleeping hours to getting his son to the Olympics. “That’s how we ended up living in a fancy house in the Berkeley Hills next to Ed. Before that we had a duplex in the flats near the freeway.”
Bev glanced over at her new desk, where the cases of BurnBars formed a small pyramid in one corner. “I kind of like them.”
“So does everyone else.” He went over and picked up a box. “I’ll take some to Engineering for you. They’ll love you even more.”
She met his eyes, and they looked at each other for a moment. Then she smiled. “Wait until they see what else I have planned.”
“I don’t want to know.”
“Yes, you do. Follow me.”
He didn’t have time. The red light on his phone was blinking, the cell in his pocket vibrated every five minutes with a phone mail reminder, he had a meeting ten minutes ago, and three days of email was still in unopened bold font in his in-box.
And Bev was wearing a dress. “What did you do now?” He sighed, following her into the hall, watching her hips sway, hearing the blood rush in his ears.
“Don’t worry. You’ll like it.”
That’s what I’m afraid of.
Bev tightened the sash around her waist and tried to reach the elevator without limping. She felt his eyes on her back like radiation.
“Did you ice it?” Liam asked.
“I spent most of yesterday with my foot in a bucket.”
“Good,” he said. “But what about today? You should stay off of it.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you control freak.” He took her arm. “Lean on me. If you act macho you’ll just take longer to heal.”
Damn, he’s big. She tested his strength by leaning heavily on him, and he didn’t budge. The pain shooting up her heel was better than yesterday morning but still made it hard to walk normally. To her surprise, the two-inch mules her sister had picked out for her relieved some of the pressure. Then she had the dress to go with the shoes, and put the makeup on to go with the dress—
Did he even notice how totally hot she was?
“Something in Ed’s suite?” He bent his knees and took more of her weight on his arm. “Let me guess—an all-you-can-eat donut buffet.”
“You should share these good ideas of yours,” she said. “Don’t be shy.”
They got into the elevator. She pressed the now-accessible button to her grandfather’s floor.
Suddenly she became aware of the location of his hand holding her forearm—right under her left breast. He had to know where his fingers were, yet he wasn’t making any effort to readjust his grip. The elevator door closed and the car rose. She stared straight ahead, not up into the warm brown eyes of her executive vice president who was touching her again.
The old elevator was slow. Her heel throbbed—but not badly enough to stumble sideways as she suddenly did, which forced him to put his arm around her waist and pull her closer.
His body tensed, his hand opening along the curve of her waist, showing her he’d come to the same conclusion. She kept reliving how he had almost kissed her on the front porch of his mother’s house, the way his knee pushed between her legs when he pinned her against the door, and decided that dealing with this issue immediately was of professional value to both of them.
She reached forward and pressed the emergency stop button, freezing them between floors. “Liam—”
And then he was there. Trapping her face with his free hand, he dropped his head and covered her mouth with his, hard and fast. Just as her veins flooded with heat, he broke the kiss and his hold on her and stepped away.
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He looked furious, scowling at her and shaking his head like it was her fault.
Scowling back, she moved right up to him until her breasts brushed against his chest, slid her hand around the back of his neck, and pulled him down where she could reach him.
He came to life. His mouth opened over hers in a deep, angry kiss, and she stretched up against him, reveled in the feel of his hands in the valley of her back, the way he held her hips against his while his tongue slipped between her teeth and tangled with hers. His hands couldn’t stay still; they slid up her ribs and up the sides of her breasts and down her spine and under the swell of her ass, all while his mouth devoured her. She forgot about everything but his touch.
He released her again, or maybe she pulled away to breathe. Her back thumped against the wall of the elevator, and they stared at each other, breathing heavily, open-mouthed and shocked.
In a rush, they came together again. After a long, deep kiss, he trailed his lips along her jaw and licked the curve of her ear.
A flare of heat made her gasp. Her knees weakened.
“Bev—”
“Don’t—say it—”
They rotated, and she was the one pinning him against the wall, running her hands up his chest, measuring and savoring the planes of his body. He looked down at her with a stunned, ecstatic expression on his face, letting her break all the rules by herself until it seemed too much for him. He grabbed her around the waist and hauled her up to his mouth.
The elevator bell rang, but Bev tilted her head and sucked Liam’s tongue, making him groan. His hold on her broke. She slid down his body until the tips of her toes hit the floor. When her heels landed a shock of pain shot through her leg, and she gasped into his mouth.
He tore his lips away. “You’re hurt,” he breathed.
She tried to hide it. Pressed herself against him.
But he gripped her shoulders and pushed her an arm’s length away. “Let me see.” He sank down to the floor and took her foot in his hands. His thumb rubbed the sore spot, just under the heel, while his hair brushed the outside of her bare leg. She was tormented with warring pleasures and pain.
Putting her hand on his shoulder for support, she struggled for air, wiggling her foot for his benefit. “I’m fine—just—forgot about it.”
The high-pitched elevator alarm bell seemed to be getting louder. Soon somebody was going to call for help.
And not the help she needed. She released his shoulder and limped over to the elevator controls to release the car.
“Good idea.” Liam stood up. “Don’t want the attention.” He reached out to take her arm again, but she drew back and held up a hand to stop him. He stared at her, chest heaving, then turned away.
They both began straightening their clothes. Bev didn’t know her own thoughts, let alone his. In seconds, the elevator doors opened, and they stood on opposite sides of the car, not looking at each other. His face was flushed, but blank. She had no idea what to do next. What was he thinking? Casual sex had always been a disaster for her, but what else could this be? They were in a fucking elevator. Literally.
She stepped off the car in a daze, and he followed.
Seeming remarkably calm, he strode down the hall
ahead of her. “You were going to show me something?”
She felt flushed. Ashamed of what she’d begun.
She’d known this might happen. He didn’t need to see what she'd done to her grandfather’s suite in person—he’d get the same email as everyone else. She’d just wanted to see his face when he found out she was going to open up an employee gym and lounge for everyone in the building—and had wanted to be alone with him again.
Hanging back to hold the elevator door, she let him walk ahead. “You go see for yourself,” she said. “I need a minute.”
He stopped and turned. Glanced down at her disheveled dress. “Right.”
She backed up into the elevator and pushed the button to close the door between them. Anything to get away from him and think.
“Hold on.” Liam stuck his arm in the door and gazed at her with dark, unblinking eyes. “My place.”
“What?”
“My place. Tonight.”
“Just like that?”
He closed his eyes for a second. “Let’s hope so.”
“What about your sister?”
“She won’t be invited.”
Her mind was annoyed with his tone, but her body began to thrum in anticipation. “I don’t know where you live.”
He nodded, glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were alone, and lowered his voice. “It’s a highrise on Beale, at Folsom. My building is the one with the purple guitar sculpture out front. I’ll meet you there, near the sculpture, at seven,” he said. “Can you remember that?”
She turned away, heart racing, and punched the elevator button again. “My memory isn’t the problem.”
Chapter 14
When Bev came into view at the end of the street, casually dressed with a floppy leather purse slung over one shoulder, Liam let out the air he’d been holding in his lungs in a slow, steady exhale.
The breeze whipped her loose hair into the air around her head. The soft, dark waves exaggerated the fine bones of her face, her long neck, the generosity of her mouth. Was she as terrified as she looked? He strode forward to meet her halfway down the block, reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear as soon as she was close enough to touch.
Love Handles (A Romantic Comedy) Page 18
