“I did not,” Presley said. “Can’t say I’m surprised. I’ve seen him behind the bar at McP’s on a Friday night. The guy is a natural.”
Haven suddenly wanted to know how Presley knew Liam. A pretty, successful woman like Presley would be right up Liam’s alley.
There you go again. Making assumptions.
A horrible habit to be sure. It was hard not to assume. Haven knew Liam’s preference for short-term flings. With his caring heart and free-spirited personality, it seemed reasonable he’d stay friends with the women he had sex with.
Would he stay friends with me?
Haven froze, the water bottle halfway to her mouth. Maybe her mouth wasn’t the destination she should be aiming for. Maybe she should dump it over the top of her head to help her cool off.
Trouble was, once the thought took root, she couldn’t get it to die. It grew and grew, spreading through her body like an out-of-control brushfire.
All those hot, wet, dirty muscles she’d seen working over her. On her. In her. As she stared into a heated, emerald gaze that held such kindness but would be fierce and demanding in his need.
God, that shouldn’t turn her on as much as it did. Or, at all. But the proof was right there in her panties, as undeniable as they were damp.
Liam had transformed before her eyes that afternoon. He’d gone from her easy-going friend to a confident commander of all he surveyed. He made plans and coordinated efforts with a seemingly practiced ease. He and his teammates worked in perfect symphony, each seeming to know what needed to be done, and doing so without much more than a gesture or a nod.
Liam’s innate confidence spoke of a man who knew he would get the job done. If he so much as jutted his chin in her direction at this point, Haven would start shedding clothes and let him get to work.
“Haven? Hellloooooo?”
“What? Oh.” Shite. “Sorry about that. I was just…” Fantasizing about having sex with my best friend. Carry on. Nothing to see here.
“You were telling us how you met Liam,” Presley reminded her, clearly the more patient of the sisters.
“Aye. Right.” Haven cleared the desire from her throat and focused on the conversation at hand. “We met on St. Patrick’s Day, but before Killarney put on the big festival we have now. Back then, the party happened more inside the pubs than out on the streets. Anyway, Liam and his family came into our pub. We’re close to the same age. His sister and brother didn’t seem to have any interest in leavin’ their parents sides, but I talked Liam into playin’ a game of darts. While the adults bonded over pints of Guinness, Liam and I hung out. We’ve been friends ever since.”
Emilia scrubbed the towel over her short hair, making it spike in all directions. “Are you just here for a visit?”
“Aye. I’ll be headin’ back to Ireland soon.”
“Well, I, for one, am glad you were here today,” Presley told her. “Thank you so much for coming to our rescue.”
“Liam gets the credit for that. I was just along for the ride.”
Presley dropped her hands onto her hips. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without that man today. The way he got everyone to come and took charge to get the water department out here. He’s my hero, for sure.”
Em snorted. “Oooh. If Evan heard you say that you might earn yourself a spankin’.”
“God, Em.” Presley blushed and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Enough.”
Confused, Haven raised an eyebrow. “Who’s Evan?”
Emilia swung off the counter and dropped an arm across her sister’s shoulders. “Evan Lancaster. Presley’s fiancé. Her own personal beefcake.”
Presley rolled her eyes. “He hates it when you call him that, you know.”
“All the more reason.” Em smacked a kiss against Presley’s cheek and came away wiping and spitting dirt from her mouth.
Haven darted her gaze back and forth between the two women. “Is he here? I’m sorry, I don’t remember meetin’ anyone named Evan.” To be fair, there were a ton of people outside she hadn’t met. The place had pretty much been in chaos when they’d arrived, and things were only just now under control. At least, as under control as things could be with a foot of standing water on the ground.
“Evan is a Navy SEAL, like Liam. He’s deployed right now.”
“Are you doin’ all right?” she asked. “I know how worrisome it can be.”
These women didn’t know Liam had gotten out of the Navy. That was something, at least. Haven might not be able to keep her mouth shut if she knew Liam had told Presley and Emilia his secret and not her.
“It’s kind of you to ask. I do worry, of course, but I’m doing all right. It’s hard when I don’t hear from Evan often, but I signed up for this life with him. If he can be strong for so many, the least I can do is be strong for us. I understand he has a job to do.” Presley hip checked her sister. “It also helps to have family around, even if it is just Em.”
Emilia pulled a face, but she touched Presley’s arm. The touch was subtle but ripe with communication. “Love you, too, sis.”
Presley laughed and continued. “And the guys outside? They might be on different teams, but they all play the same game. They look out for each other, and they look out for those left behind. I know Evan sleeps better at night because he has the peace of mind that these guys will be there for me if I need anything…like they were today. And I’ll be honest, it’s nice to know I’m not alone. We’re like one, big happy family.”
Emilia snorted headed toward the front door. “One big testosterone-laden family.
Not alone.
That’s all Haven wanted. To not be alone. Maybe Liam was right. Maybe she wasn’t thinking about her situation from the correct angle. Maybe she—
“Hey, Haven?” Emilia threw open the door to the flower shop. “Wanna go hose off my brothers?”
7
Christ, he smelled. Head-to-toe covered in soppy muck and grime, Liam’s clothes had seen better days, too. By the look of it, Haven hadn’t fared much better. At the very least, he owed her a new pair of jeans. And since she’d borrowed a pair of boots from Presley, he’d be replacing those, as well.
Liam shifted in his seat, the wet jeans pinching him in places he wished they wouldn’t. He gripped the steering wheel and contemplated the woman beside him.
Something was going on in that head of hers. Liam just couldn’t figure out what.
Haven had been quiet all the way home from the nursery. It didn’t take SEAL training to catch the side-eye glances she kept tossing his way. It was cute though, if she thought he wouldn’t notice.
Liam had noticed everything about her from the moment he’d seen her at McP’s the other night, as though he was highly attuned to Haven’s personal frequency. And it seemed he wasn’t the only one. Every time he’d turned around this afternoon, he’d found another man vying for her attention. Like bees to honey, men were drawn to her. Her playful personality. Her laughter. Her take-no-shit attitude. And that fucking accent got ’em every time.
Liam parked the truck. The suspiciously comfortable silent treatment continued to the front door of the condo. They both removed their boots, but when Haven worked the button and zipper on her jeans, Liam backed up.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“What does it look like I’m doin’? I’m filthy. I can’t wear these nasty things inside your house.”
Liam knew from experience how difficult it could be to wiggle out of wet jeans, but fuck him. Having a front row seat while Haven shimmied out of hers made all his blood head south of the border.
He’d never unsee the way Haven worked the fabric down, swaying those sexy hips, revealing the creamy expanse of her legs one slow inch at a time.
“Aren’t you goin’ to take off yours? You’re a mess.” Haven crossed one foot over the other, tugging her feet free from the jeans before kicking them aside. She straightened and dropped her hands to her tiny waist.
Liam’s gaze wa
s drawn to the movement. He bit the inside of his mouth to cut off the groan that threatened to embarrass them both. Her top wasn’t long enough to hide the flat of her belly or the flair of her hips. The wet pants had left her cream-colored panties molded to her body. And fucking see-through. Even in the fading light, a faint shadow of hair and the delicate line of her pussy teased his senses and his control.
“Well?” Haven demanded.
Liam swore under his breath. Standing in front of him like a sassy Irish fairy, she made his dick hard and his mouth water. Jesus. How could she not know? How could she not fucking know what she was doing to him right now?
Because she’s not thinking about fucking you, you asshole. She’s trying not to track mud and dirt into your place.
As any good friend would.
“You can have first dibs on the shower.” Liam turned his back on her. He shoved the key into the lock and opened the door. He kept his gaze firmly off her ass as she pushed past him into the kitchen. She hadn’t asked to become a star in his personal spank bank, and she damn sure deserved better from him. As it was, he’d be fighting back images of her pretty, silk-covered pussy while he took the edge off in the shower, but he’d be a goner for sure if he looked at her ass and saw the slightest bit of cheek peeking out.
Haven went straight for the stairs.
“Are you hungry?” he called over his shoulder. Not looking.
“Aye. I could eat.”
Liam opened the refrigerator and ducked down to investigate dinner options. “Not much to choose from. How about I order a pizza? Pizza and a movie? How does that—” He swung the door closed and, “Jesus! Haven.” He clutched his chest like an eighty-year-old grandma who’d just had a fright. She was right there.
And Liam thought he had some stealth moves.
“I thought you were gonna go take a shower.” Liam swallowed hard. Don’t look. Don’t look. “Do you need something?”
She stepped closer then wrapped her arms around his waist.
“Uh, Haven?” Liam raised his arms, letting them hover at his sides, uncertain how or when they’d crossed into the territory where half-naked hugs were a thing they shared.
“You’re a good guy, Liam.” Haven rubbed her cheek against his dirty shirt, reminding him of the shower he desperately needed. “The way you helped Presley today, that was incredible.”
Giving into temptation, Liam wrapped an arm around her shoulders and cupped her head in his other hand, cradling her to him. He closed his eyes. God, she smelled so…well, she smelled like dirt and sweat, but underneath there was a sweet and spicy scent that was all Haven.
“It was a team effort,” he said. “That’s what we do when one of our own is in trouble.”
She stretched her neck back to look up at him. “You don’t like to take credit for things, do you?”
“The satisfaction isn’t in the credit, Haven. The reward, if you want to call it that, comes from knowing I’ve got a buddy in the field who can focus on keeping himself and his team safe because he knows we’ve got his back on the home front.” Her cheek felt gritty under his thumb as he brushed it across her cheek. “Quite frankly, it’s the least we can do for each other.”
He caught a loose tendril of hair and gently tucked it behind her ear. He’d stop touching her any minute now. Yep. Annny minute. He let his fingertips slid down the side of her neck. Her pulse surged under his touch. “Haven? Honey?”
“Yeah?” Her breath stuttered out and, fucking hell, if he kissed her right now, he had no doubt she’d welcome him.
Time for a harsh reality check. Liam could handle his own lust, but Haven’s didn’t belong to him. Her pleasure belonged to Craig the Douche. The thought made Liam uncharacteristically grouchy.
“You aren’t wearing any pants,” he snapped. “I know we’re friends, but I’m still a guy.” He decided to hit her with a little truth. “You have a great ass. Unless you want things to get seriously awkward, you’ll take your gorgeous backside up to the shower while I go jump in the ocean.” He was only half kidding.
Her lip kicked up. “You like my ass?”
Liam growled and grabbed Haven’s shoulders. He spun her and smacked one round, firm cheek. She yelped and giggled, but at least he got her moving.
Of course, he liked her ass. He liked everything about her—except the fact that she might marry another man. That part was a real boner killer. As was the sudden sound of his sister’s ring tone coming from his pocket.
“That’s Sasha.” Probably calling to find out if he screwed up her instructions to help Haven prepare for the charity event. “Go, Haven. Shower. And, for the love of Christ, put on some pants.”
Haven jogged up the first few steps, and then stopped. “Hey, Liam?”
“Hang on, Sash,” he said into the phone before he pulled it away from his ear again. “What is it, pix?”
“I like your ass, too.”
“How’s Sasha?” Haven tossed a piece of pizza crust into the empty box and wiped her hands on a napkin.
Liam settled back on the couch. He kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and folded his hands across his full stomach.
The hot shower, pizza, and two beers had gone a long way toward restoring his good humor. The pretty company hadn’t hurt, either.
“She’s good,” Liam said. “I called her the other day for advice. She wanted to know how it worked out.”
Next to him, Haven’s shoulders stiffened slightly. “What did you need advice about?”
“What I should do to help you get ready for the charity event. You have Sasha to thank for all the appointments you had that day.” He laughed. “Because I had no clue what you would need.”
Haven perched in the corner of the couch, her legs tucked underneath her. She’d taken his words to heart and had appeared after her shower dressed in leggings and an oversized T-shirt. Not that it mattered what she wore. Haven made everything look sexy.
“It was sweet of you to do that.”
Liam tilted his wrist and flicked his fingers, essentially waving her off before letting his hand flop back to its original position against his abs. Finally, motionless, the day’s activities caught up to him. Combined with the food and the hops, sleep wouldn’t be far behind.
“What about Colin? How is he?”
Liam snorted, fighting to keep his lids open. His younger brother was a pain in Liam’s ass. “Oh, you know. He’s twenty-eight and back living with mom and dad because he got kicked out of his apartment.”
“Why did he get kicked out?”
“Who knows? With Colin, it’s always someone else’s fault. It’s hard to discern the truth because it sure as shit isn’t whatever comes out of Colin’s mouth.”
“Is he still a personal trainer?”
“If he is, he’s not getting paid because he begged Dad for a job at Tavern J.”
“That must make your dad happy. To have one of his sons workin’ the family business.”
Her comment hit a little too close to home. Liam was too tired, too blissfully relaxed to start the whole I left the Navy and might end up in the family business, too discussion. So, he deflected. “What about your dad? Still talking about retiring?”
Haven sighed. “His plan is to turn over the reins after St. Patrick’s Day.”
“You don’t sound happy about it. I thought you wanted the pub?”
“I do. Carryin’ on the family legacy means something to me, and I love the work. I just…”
Liam shifted to face her and dropped his arm to rest against the back of the couch. “You just what?”
“I didn’t think I’d be doin’ it alone. I grew up watchin’ my parents work side-by-side, day-in and day-out. They loved workin’ the pub together, bein’ together every day. They still do, although mom doesn’t work as much as she used to now that I’m there most days. The point is: I wanted that, too. Someone by my side. Workin’ the pub, sharin’ a life, maybe someday raisin’ the next generation to love O’Somachain�
�s as much as I do.”
“What about Craig?” He might’ve snarled the words.
“Oh, Craig wants the pub, all right.” Haven stared at her lap. “He only wants me because I’m the ticket to get it.”
Liam’s blood turned to ice. And knowing that, Haven wanted to marry that guy? Was she out of her mind? She would not sacrifice her life to some fuckwit who saw her as a consolation prize. Not while Liam had breath in his lungs. “You better explain that shit right now, Haven.”
Her palms came up. Her eyes practically twinkled when she said, “Settle down, Rambo. Geez.”
She thought this was funny, did she?
“Oh no, you didn’t.” Liam launched himself toward her.
Haven squealed and kicked out her legs, but he caged her against the couch with his arms.
Laughing, Haven pushed at his chest. “What are you doin’? Get off me, you big dope.”
“I’m not playing, Haven.” Not this time. This time, he was dead fucking serious. “How could you even consider being with a guy who doesn’t worship the fucking ground you walk on? Who doesn’t see how beautiful and funny and amazing you are?” Liam closed his eyes, knowing he’d gone too far, said too much, but finding it hard to care. “Just tell me you aren’t going to marry that idiot.”
She mocked a stern expression. “I’m not goin’ to marry that idiot.”
Liam’s breath left his lungs in a rush. He dropped his forehead to hers. “Thank fuck. Wait.” He pulled back, eyes narrowing on her. “When did you come to that decision?”
Haven’s cheeks flushed. “About five seconds after he asked.”
“Then why the hell did you lead me to believe you were considering his proposal?”
“I—I…It doesn’t matter. I said no. And I’ll keep sayin’ no every time he asks. I’m not some sacrificial lamb. I’d rather be alone than be with the wrong guy for the rest of my life.”
A long moment passed as Liam digested that information. She’d said no. Haven wasn’t marrying Craig the Douche.
Overwhelmed with relief, Liam didn’t think, he just bent his head and popped a quick kiss against Haven’s lips. Her eyelids flared with surprise. She shifted, reminding him that she was stretched out under him with his knee digging into the cushion between her legs.
Hot SEAL, Charmed Page 6
