“I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” he shot back to me. “So, I ordered scones, cookies, and biscotti. I figured there had to be something in there you’d want.”
“It all looks good…” my mouth watered.
“But the biscotti is coated in chocolate,” Liam pointed out before taking his seat. “And, I also figured you might be a chocolate kind of girl.”
“Pumpkin spice drinks and chocolate. Am I really that obvious?” I sat down beside him, making sure to keep at least half a foot of space between us.
“No. Maybe,” Liam fumbled his words. “Don’t all girls like chocolate?”
“Don’t all people like chocolate?” I retorted.
“Touché.” He grabbed up a biscotti, dunked it in his coffee, and took a bite. Liam closed his eyes and groaned. I would have laughed again, had it not been so unintentionally sexy.
“You have to try it.” He handed a me a piece.
I nibbled at the end, and this time, he looked at me like he wanted to laugh. “You can go for it, you know,” he said. “You don’t have to hold back.”
His hand rested on my knee for just a brief moment, and I took in a sharp breath. “Liam,” I said, “with you, I think I always have to hold back. At least a little. At least, right now.”
“Listen, Katie, I’d been wanting to talk to you about that.” He turned on the couch to face me. “The thing with Nicole—”
“It’s okay,” I cut him off in a rush of words. “I get it. You were with her a long time. I was with Ben a long time. Let’s not talk about that tonight. Let’s not talk about girlfriends or boyfriends or exes.”
Liam
“Let’s not talk about that tonight. Let’s not talk about girlfriends or boyfriends or exes.” Katie’s words made me instantly relax. I relaxed muscles I didn’t even know were tensed.
No drama tonight. No big scenes. No trying to “play things right” or “keep her on the hook” or “explain things the right way.” Just two people getting to know each other. She was so close to Emma, and Emma was getting so close to Oliver, I assumed she knew the whole story anyway.
I took a deep breath and felt my shoulders loosen as the muscles in my back slackened. We chose coffee over booze, but I didn’t need alcohol to unwind. All I needed was Katie’s kind, warm voice assuring me that we didn’t have to make any decisions right away. All we were doing tonight was taking some time to hang out and actually get to know each other.
After all Nicole’s controlled dates and plans and extensive calendars, being with Katie, just sitting and talking to her without an end game, was refreshing.
The twinkle lights decorating the bar sparkled in her deep, green eyes, and I felt like I could sit, silently staring into them all night long. Instead, I took another deep breath and said, “You were going to tell me about the craziest day you ever had in kindergarten.”
I knew I said the right thing when Katie practically bounced in her seat. He whole face became animated, and she looked almost like one of the children she taught. “Oh my gosh, I have so many stories!” she said.
“Pick one,” I grinned, “or tell me all of them. I don’t mind.”
“I think one of the funniest incidents happened when I was student teaching,” she said, taking an actual bite of the biscotti this time. “I swear, I thought I was going to be kicked out of the program after what happened!”
“What did you do?” I couldn’t take my eyes off Katie. She was simply enchanting.
“When I was little, my mom used to do this activity with us called pudding painting.”
“What’s that?” I wondered.
“It’s exactly what it sounds like,” she laughed. “Pudding and finger-paints have about the same consistency. So, you make pudding and use it on finger-paint paper. Kids love it, at least, I didas a kid.”
“So, what was the problem?”
“The problem is that if you have one or two kids, pudding painting is messy, but fun. The kids paint a bit and eat the paint at the same time.”
“Activity and snack all in one,” I said.
“Exactly! So, I suggested to my supervising teacher that we try it out one afternoon. I bought the pudding mix, the milk, and the food coloring.”
“Food coloring?” I frowned. “That doesn’t sound like a great idea.”
“It wasn’t,” she let out a tinkle of laughter, and I again thought about how much I’d missed the sound of making a girl laugh. I wanted to keep making Katie laugh. Hell, I’d almost give up firefighting and become a stand-up comedian if it meant hearing Katie laugh every night.
“I forgot that my mom used to use chocolate pudding when she would do the activity with us.”
“Your brothers and sisters?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I’m an only child, but I have tons of cousins, a few of whom are like siblings to me, though most of them don’t live around here anymore.”
“So, back to that fateful day,” I prompted.
“Chocolate pudding makes amazing pictures, but I thought it would be more fun to dye vanilla pudding into different colors, so we could use them more like different color paints.” Katie shook her head as if too embarrassed to continue.
She took a sip of coffee and said, “And then, I added edible glitter.”
“You did not!” I nearly spit out my coffee laughing.
“I did,” she confessed. “And then, the kids started painting. At first, they did it the way we did as kids, but there were so many of them, and only the teacher and me to keep them all under control.”
“Madness?” I said.
“Madness,” she echoed. “Pudding started getting everywhere. On their hands, their clothes, their shoes, and their hair. They were taking the bags of pudding and squeezing them all over the place. The tables were covered in the stuff… and the toys… and the rugs.”
“And it was dyed with food color,” I said.
“Yes.” Katie hung her head, so her caramel-colored hair fell over her face. For a moment, I thought she was upset, but then, I saw her shoulders shaking with laughter.
“It’s funny now,” she giggled, “but it was horrible at the time. Even after we cleaned up, there were splotches of food coloring all over the rug, and some of the kids stained their clothes.”
“Did you get in trouble?”
“A little,” she admitted. “Not as much as Ms. Taylor, who took the brunt of it from the parents, so I wouldn’t get fired from a job that was still technically part of my college coursework.”
Katie looked at me, eyes shining. “She saved my career, essentially. She’s one of the reasons I became a kindergartener teacher.”
“You didn’t always want to be a teacher?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine her doing anything else. Except maybe a job where she took care of people. Like a nurse the evil part of my brain kicked in again. A sexy nurse in a short white…
“I wanted to be an art teacher.” Katie took another bite of biscotti and covered her mouth, self-consciously, even though she continued to talk through the crumbs. “But Ben… but someone pointed out to me that most school art programs were being cut. And even the ones that weren’t cut only left room for one art teacher per school, sometimes even just one or two per district!”
“So, they talked you out of it.”
“Well,” she considered, “it wasn’t bad advice. And I love working with little kids. I haven’t been teaching that long, but I can’t imagine doing anything else.”
My mind drifted back to imagining her in a nurse’s outfit again, but I tried to push the thought from my brain. “Did you give up the art after the pudding incident?”
Katie’s smile faded. “No,” she said in a small voice. “I started taking art classes again a few months ago.”
Why this upset her, I couldn’t imagine, but it was the first pause in our conversation, and it gave me a minute to silently gaze at her beauty once again. I reached over to brush a crumb from the corner of her mouth. My hand lingered there
a moment. I gently cupped her head and turned her face up to me.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “You’re just so beautiful, I couldn’t help myself.”
I leaned in, closing the small distance between us, and put my lips to hers. Katie’s mouth was soft and sweet. Her lips were closed, but as soon as I touched them, they parted easily.
Up close, she smelled like vanilla and coconut, and I inhaled her scent, which was sexy and comforting all at once.
This was so unlike our kiss at the party, I was unprepared for it. Halloween had been about nothing but desire coursing through both our bodies. This kiss was gentler, more tentative. Halloween’s kiss had said, “I want you.” This kiss said, “I want to get to know you.”
I pulled back. I still hadn’t broken up with Nicole, and this was the second time I cheated on her. It felt right and horrible all at once.
“Sorry,” I repeated.
Katie
The thought of my art classes reminded me of Ben’s betrayal. I might have slid back into the funk I’d been in since kicking him out, but before I knew it, Liam’s strong hands were lifting my face to his and his lips met mine.
Liam’s lips were warm and less urgent than the week before. On Halloween, I wanted to tear his clothes off. Now, I wanted to melt into him. I couldn’t quite explain it, but he made me feel safe. The feeling may have come from just his physique, but I doubted that was all.
Right as I was going to give in and lean into him fully, Liam pulled away. “Sorry,” his voice was as warm as the coffee we were drinking. Warmer, most likely, since the two cups sat together, growing cold on the table.
I didn’t quite know how to react, but I was grateful he’d turned my thoughts back to our date and away from Ben, so I pushed forward. “You have successfully tricked me into telling you one of my most embarrassing stories,” I said, trying to act as if our kiss hadn’t happened. “Now, it’s your turn. You’re a fit, trim fireman, thanks to your buddy Jim—”
Liam grinned. “I can’t believe you remembered that.”
“Oh, I remembered, all right,” I said. “Remembered and promised myself I’d get his number. I don’t think I can go back to yoga with Amber after…” I trailed off and shook my head, getting rid of my memories once again. “After what happened. But forget all that. I was busy complimenting you.”
“Of course,” he cocked his head.
“You’re a fit, trim fireman, thanks to Jim, you work in IT, so you’re obviously a nerd in addition to being hot. And, from what you’ve said, you admire your mom and dad and seem to have a good relationship with them. So, tell me, Liam, what is your downfall?”
He pursed his soft lips. “I don’t know if I should say.”
Oh, God, I thought. He lied during the Never Have I Ever game. He’s cheated on every girl he’s ever been with. Or worse. He has an alcohol problem. A drug problem. My mind reeled with possibilities.
“You might as well tell me now.” I picked up a cookie this time and bit into it, holding my hand in front of my mouth so he couldn’t see me chewing. “Based on that kiss, we’re bound to have a second date.”
“So, this is an official date, then.” Liam’s lips curled up in a knowing smile. “I wasn’t sure.”
I slapped him lightly on the arm, laughing. “I don’t kiss guys I’ve friend-zoned, Liam. If you were friend-zoned, you would have gotten a one-armed hug and maybe a pat on the head or something.”
“True,” he smirked, as if knowing there was no way any girl in her right mind would ever friend-zone him. His friend, Oliver, maybe. But not Liam.
“Spill. What’s your downfall?”
“Besides gorgeous girls with green eyes and freckles?” he asked, making me blush. “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you. It’s… “
He took a pause so long, I wanted to scream.
“Art,” he finished.
“Art?” I repeated. “Your fatal flaw is art?”
“The one class I flunked in high school before I switched over to chorus.”
I burst into a fit of giggles. “You failed art? Usually, all you have to do is try your best and turn something in.” I tried to hold back my laughter. “I’m sorry, Liam. I don’t know if I believe you.”
“Believe it,” he sighed. “My teacher told me that my study of the fruit bowl she put out the first day looked like a drawing a five-year-old would do. Then, she said my calligraphy project looked like something a serial killer wrote. And then, she called my first painting a ‘disaster not worthy of being hung on the wall with the others.’”
“She sounds like a bitch,” I said, and immediately clapped my hand over my mouth. It was an automatic gesture, and I couldn’t say why I made it, other than the fact that I was bad-mouthing another teacher—one I didn’t even know.
“Yeah, pretty much,” Liam acknowledged. “I had never taken an art class before. I thought it would be fun. She made it miserable. So, after my first few attempts, I started skipping class. When I got caught, I ignored everything my teacher said and turned in nothing but stick figures the rest of the semester.”
“Stick figures?”
“By the end of the semester, she had a whole stack of them and brought them into the principal, who called me in for a meeting about how I was wasting my time in class, being belligerent with my teacher, and slacking off in general. I showed him the comments she’d written on my first few projects. He apologized, walked me over to the guidance office, and had them switch my schedule from art to music.”
“Where of course, you were the best bass voice in the entire chorus.” I ran my hand down his arm, more gently this time.
“Where of course, I was a tenor with a voice that kept cracking who muddled through, but actually put in some effort and had a little fun,” he countered.
My hand was still on his arm, and I squeezed his bicep lightly. “If I had been your teacher, that would never have happened,” I assured him.
“Of course not,” Liam put his large, calloused hand over mine.
We sat there for a moment until the butterflies in my stomach danced, and I gave in to my instinct. Leaning forward, I caressed his face this time, running my fingers across his five-o’clock shadow as I gazed into his chocolate eyes.
I was going to kiss him, but my hand drifted back down his arm, and our fingers entwined together. I looked down, taking in the beautiful contrast of his bronze skin weaving in between my pale fingertips.
Liam saw me looking, and I thought I’d get to see that inviting smile again. Instead, his look darkened in intensity. His deep, bass voice dropped even further into a low register that sent tingles through my body. “Katie, I think you may be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met in my life.”
My lips parted in surprise, and my free hand fluttered up to my heart. I looked away.
“You don’t think you’re beautiful?” Liam’s voice tickled my ears as his fingers caressed my hand and wrist.
“I don’t know,” I muttered. “Amber is really the beautiful one. Becca, too. Even Emma, in her own way. I’m just…”
“What?” his words brought my gaze back to his earnest face.
“I’m just the girl next door. Pretty enough, but nothing special.”
“Well, I think you’re special,” Liam took my other hand in his. “But then again, I was in love with the girl next door from kindergarten through sixth grade when she finally moved away. So, maybe I just have a type.”
“And who is this mystery woman?” I teased.
“Gertie Gaynor,” he said, closing his eyes as if enjoying the memory.
“Gertie? As in Gertrude? Nope. Sorry. I don’t believe it.”
“Don’t believe what?” Liam’s eyes snapped open.
Giggles bubbled up in my throat. “You did not fall in love with a girl named Gertrude.”
“She had pigtails,” he protested.
“That’s like a grandma name!” I said, giggling madly.
“She was named after her grandmother.” Li
am was frowning at me now.
“I’m sorry,” I said, trying to regain my composure. “It’s just I don’t think I’ve heard that name outside of an old rerun of Little House on the Prairie.”
Liam crossed his arms in mock anger. “I will have you know that Gertie Gaynor was as adorable as you are, little Miss Katie-Cat. And, she baked cookies every Tuesday after school, and once, I stole a kiss from her from the fence between our two houses.”
“Please tell me you have looked her up on social media since then,” I said. “Please tell me she doesn’t have some sort of a stodgy grandma job, because I swear, if I’m wrong about this, I will not only drink my cold coffee, I will eat the cup.”
“She….” Liam mumbled.
“What was that?” I asked, though I was fairly sure I heard him the first time.
“She runs a yarn store,” he said, more loudly this time.
I started giggling all over again. “Of course, she does! Is it like a hipster yarn store for young knitters?”
Liam joined my laughter this time. “No. I’ve seen photos. You’re right. It’s definitely for the white-haired crowd.”
As Liam’s laughter rang out like the chime of deep brass bells, I took a deep breath and went for it. “You want to get out of here?”
His laughter cut off, abruptly, and suddenly, he looked worried. Did I do something wrong? I wondered. Maybe I should have asked right after he called me beautiful. Instead, I pulled away, joked, teased, and played the moment all wrong.
But as nice as the conversation was, Liam’s body was still invading my brain. And I couldn’t help remembering his skin against mine. Sweet kisses were fine, but I was practically squirming in my seat the whole time we talked. The plain fact was: I wanted him.
Liam stammered, trying to form his thoughts into words. “The thing with Nicole…”
“I know,” I cut him off before he started. I didn’t want to hear a long story about his ex. His message was clear enough. We were having a good time, but he wasn’t ready to jump into anything yet.
Running a hand through his wavy hair, Liam paused, considering. “It’s not just that. I’ve got a test tomorrow...”
Hot & Heavy Halloween (Hot Holidays Book 1) Page 10
