“Good evening, Mr. Rowen,” the concierge at Liam’s apartment building greeted him as they strolled into the marble decorated lobby. “Welcome back. I hope your houseguest has settled in well.”
Liam stopped, pulling Jaz slightly behind him as if that would do anything just now. “What houseguest?”
The concierge, a middle-aged, balding man named Rodrigo who took great pride in his post, went to his computer at once. “I’m afraid it’s not listed, sir. She had a key and thus wasn’t required to register, as per your preferences.” He looked up. “Would you like to change those now?”
“We’re fine, Rodrigo,” Liam assured him. The only people who had keys to his place were the Tridents and now Aiden, so a she could only be one of their wives.
“You’ve been living here less than two weeks,” he told Jaz as they headed to the elevator. “And you already have visitors?”
She grinned up at him as they stepped into the elevator, her face lighting up the way it always did when she smiled. “Clearly, I’m the more popular one of us.”
He made a sound in the back of his throat, his hand aching to rest on the curve of Jaz’s hip, but hitting the elevator button instead. “Given that at least one person is actively trying to hurt you, I’d really prefer if you’d become a bit less popular for a while.”
“Fair point.” Jaz’s words came out in a whisper, her lips staying slightly parted. She stepped closer, and Liam’s heart quickened at the invitation. Need and desire swam through him, though he’d promised himself he’d stay clear of Jaz Keasley. That they’d be nothing but friends. His head lowered toward her.
Jaz’s hand reached toward the scruff along his jaw.
Ding.
The chime of the elevator reaching the uppermost story shattered the moment, bringing Liam back to his senses. He stepped back just as the door opened, extending his hand to allow Jaz to precede him. As they cleared the elevator bank and proceeded to his apartment, however, Liam noticed a sweet coconut smell trickling into the hallway. His memory stirred, his chest tightening as he unlocked his door.
“Liam. There you are,” his houseguest said with an unabashed smile that made Liam’s hand clench at his side. He’d forgotten that there was one other person he’d given his key to, to be used in case of emergency. Though no such event appeared to be in sight. The woman wiped her hands on her apron. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone. Will you introduce me to the young lady?”
“I’m not seeing—never mind.” Liam stuck his hand into his pocket. “What are you doing here?”
“Finishing up dinner. Should be ready by the time you two come in and wash up.” She extended her weathered hand to Jaz. “It’s wonderful to meet you. I’m Patti. I hope you don’t mind beef Stroganoff? It’s always been Liam’s favorite.”
“That sounds delicious.” Jaz sounded equal parts polite and confused. Liam couldn’t blame her there. He also couldn’t keep them standing in the hallway much longer without this turning even more awkward. Squaring his shoulders, he motioned between the women. “Jaz, this is Patti Rowen, my mother. Mother, Jaz Keasley.”
18
Jaz
“Um… Hello.” Jaz shook hands with the middle-aged woman whose dark-brown hair and familiar features finally made sense. Liam’s mother was tall for a woman, though still shorter than her son, and her gaze held a sadness behind a determined smile.
A beat of silence sizzled between them, then Patti clapped her hands together. “So, beef Stroganoff. I didn’t know when you’d be here, but the sauce is all ready, and I’ll just boil a bit of egg noodles. If you kids want to wash up and set the table, we can eat in about half an hour.”
Liam helped Jaz take off her pack, then slid his own to the floor. “I’m not hungry. And you still haven’t answered my question. Why are you here?”
Patti’s smile faltered, then returned with renewed determination. “Well, you can just keep us company at the table, then.” She turned, heading to the kitchen, and began filling a large pot with water. “I know, I know—you hate surprises and I came unannounced, but I wanted to see you. It couldn’t wait.”
Liam stalked after her, his shoulders tight. “What is it that couldn’t wait?”
“Seeing you, of course.” Patti turned to look over at Jaz. “Did you say your name was Jaz Keasley? Same as Kyan Keasley? Are you his sister?”
“I am.” Jaz opened a pot lid to inhale the mouthwatering aroma of meat and mushrooms. “But please don’t hold that against me. At least not until after dinner.”
Patti laughed, which only invited more dark clouds to gather around Liam. He’d said he didn’t get along with his mother, but from what Jaz could see unfolding before her, the conflict was one-sided. At least at the moment. And whatever else, she was not about to pass up a chance to learn more about Liam—whether he liked her sources or not.
“Is there anything I can help with?” Jaz asked.
Liam, who was still lingering a few paces behind, was on her in an eyeblink. His hand closed around her wrist. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”
Oh, this was too good. “Of course.” Pulling out of his grip, Jaz stood on her toes to grab the dishes and started setting the table. “What about?”
She could almost hear Liam swallow a growl.
“It’s so nice that Liam’s keeping in touch with his childhood friends, or in your case, something more.” Patti poured the egg noodles, which she must have brought along with the other ingredients, into the water. The more she spoke and traipsed around Liam’s kitchen, the tenser his body became, until a small muscle ticked along his clenched jaw. Patti motioned at Liam with the pasta packaging before tossing it out. “You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend. A mother needs to know such things.”
“Jaz isn’t my girlfriend. And you don’t need to know anything other than when my check is arriving.” Liam’s voice broke from controlled and distant to something that no longer hid his cold fury. “Now, I’m going to ask you again. Why. Are. You. Here?”
Patti seemed to finally deflate. She stopped moving about, her shoulders curling slightly inside her cardigan. Lowering the wooden spoon she’d used to stir the pasta, she let out a long breath and turned toward her son. “Liam.” Her hand twitched toward him.
Liam stepped back.
Patti pulled her hand back against her body and sighed. “I just wanted to see if we could talk. To have a relationship. I miss you, Liam.”
“You’re about nineteen years too late on that front.”
“I’m nineteen years smarter too. And so are you.”
“I have work to do.” His hazel eyes flat and his mouth cinching down into a horizontal line, Liam crossed the room and went back into the foyer. He flipped the dead bolt closed with a definitive clonk, strode past his mother, and vanished into the rear of the penthouse.
Patti watched him pass, then pressed her lips together and returned her attention to the pasta, which was now ready. “I’ll… Why don’t you fix plates for yourself and Liam. I’ve just remembered I have a few things to finish up at the hotel.” She wiped her hands on a dish towel and conjured a smile that tried its damn best to hide the pain lurking behind aging hazel eyes. “The beef Stroganoff really tastes better when it’s fresh and hot.”