“Liam, I really care about him.”
At that he snorts.
“Would it kill you to be serious for once?”
Liam tugs at his lower lip, eyes growing dark as he pushes off of the truck, closing the space between us in two strides. He’s close, so close the tips of his dusty work boots are brushing my bare toes. It would be so easy to lift a knee and relieve a little of this pent-up aggression on his manhood. A chill ripples through me. Great, now I’m thinking about his dick. “If you cared about him at all,” he challenges, “you wouldn’t have ended up here with me.” He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my face up so our eyes meet. “How’s that for serious talk?”
I grab his wrist, pushing his hand away. My blood is boiling. His words infuriate me, mostly because I know he isn’t entirely wrong. Wanting and even loving this man has never been the issue. But not everything you want is good for you. And Liam Watts is a threat to my heart…and my sanity. “I was drunk and…and estupida.”
“I’m not gonna touch on the stupid remark, but let’s not pretend you were anything more than tipsy at best,” he counters. “At least not before we made it to Vegas, anyway.”
The look in his eyes dares me to argue. I can’t. I might not remember much after leaving the house, but everything leading up to that point is crystal clear.
“Look, you’re afraid to admit that this is what you want. I don’t like it, but I get it. So, I’ll play your game. We’ll do this your way. Because I’m the one who fucked up all those years ago, darlin’, and I damn sure know it. I don’t deserve your trust, but you can bet your hot little ass I’m gonna use the time I’ve been granted to earn it back.”
I can’t even find my own voice, which is not a common occurrence for a loudmouth such as myself. With my jaw slack and my heart lodged deep in my throat, I stare at the man who—if I’m honest with myself—I’ve never gotten over. He knows it, and I know it. But he taught me the hard way that, unfortunate as it may be, love just isn’t enough. It doesn’t always equate to happiness. Love doesn’t warm your bed at night. Doesn’t shield you from pain. No, it rips you wide open, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. And when that same love begins to make you miserable, you are left with no other choice but to let it go. I had to let him go.
“What’s going on out here?” Ryder asks, suddenly appearing behind me. I jump back, away from Liam, to take my place by his side. His blonde hair that was combed down so neatly before is now in complete disarray, a tell he’s been worrying his hands through it. “What’s with the truck, Liam?”
There’s not a hint of accusation in his tone. Just mild confusion. The poor guy has no reason to suspect my ex-husband would be moving back in with me, or that he’s no longer my ex-husband, for that matter. He probably thinks he just stopped by on his way to wherever it is he’s moving to.
“Baby,” Liam croons, with a grin that stretches from ear to freaking ear. “Do you want to tell him? Or should I?”
I hate you, I mouth, earning myself a wink.
“So, I, uh… Shit! This is not how I planned this at all.” A ball of nerves coils tightly in the pit of my stomach as I stare into my boyfriend’s worried eyes.
“Planned what?” He takes a protective step back, analyzing the scene before him.
“Ryder, Liam and I… Well, the other night he came over for Ellie’s birthday.” I gulp, wringing my hands nervously. “Remember, you had to work?”
My soon to be former boyfriend’s narrowed eyes volley between Liam and myself. “Yeah?”
“Well, we uh…We sort of got a little drunk and went to Vegas.” I hold my left hand up and watch his face drop at the sight of the ring that wasn’t there when he arrived not even half an hour ago. I feel like such a dog. Ryder and I might have only been dating a few months, but he’s been so good to me and to my daughter.
“You have got to be fucking shitting me.”
“Woah!” Liam roars, puffing out his chest. “Watch the way you talk to my wife. That there is a fucking lady. I don’t care if she can curse your ass lower than a sailor or has a tendency to chunk a chancla at your head in a fit of anger. You’ll treat my woman with respect.”
I mean, seriously, throw a slipper at a man one time…“Liam! That’s enough!”
I reach for Ryder, but he shrugs me away, and to my horror it doesn’t sting nearly as much as it should. I’m more ashamed than anything. “I’m gonna go,” he says, taking long steps back toward his car.
“I’m so sorry, Ryder,” I call out to him, my voice cracking in the growing space between us.
He locks eyes with mine before shaking his head in disbelief. His mouth opens to say something, but he seems to think better of it, clamping it shut and spinning on his heels. The next thing I know his tires are squealing down the driveway.
I whip around, embarrassed and infuriated. “Sure you don’t want to piss on me for good measure? You know, just in case he didn’t fully grasp where my ownership lies?”
Liam’s eyes widen. “I didn’t think you were the type, but I mean if that’s what you’re into now… sure.”
Liam
What’s yours is mine
“Where’s mom?” Ellie’s soft voice inquires when she walks in after school, just as I finish tightening the last leg of my desk. I flip it over, positioning it across from Nya’s desk in her bright, airy office. My daughter speaks my next thought before I’ve even answered her first question.
“She’s gonna be pissed…” Worried blue eyes scan her mother’s sanctuary.
With a dismissive wave, I answer her question. “Your mother went shopping with Hannah. Said she wasn’t going to be a willing participant in the ruination of her life.” I chuckle at the memory of her little fit.
The smile on Ellie’s face makes my chest swell with pride.
“She’ll just have to get over it. We both work from home. There’s only one office.” I shrug, trying to make light of what I know will be a total shitstorm, but I really do need space to work.
Since the dissolution of our marriage, I’ve taken on the role of silent partner at the club, handling the finances and paperwork while Chance takes care of the rest of it. I knew I had to make some major changes if I was ever going to win Nya back. Unfortunately, it was too little too late.
My daughter’s brow furrows with concern. “You think maybe making her mad isn’t the right approach?”
“Ellie…” I lead my daughter by the arm to the window seat. “How can I win her back if I’m not constantly in her face? Huh?” I kneel before her and place my hands on her tiny shoulders. “Daddy has a plan. Trust me. She won’t be able to resist my charm.”
“I don’t know…” the skeptical brunette drawls, glancing around the room. She’s obviously deep in thought. “Your desk sticks out like a sore thumb. The mahogany doesn’t blend with the creams and teals. Mom is all about cohesion.” Only the daughter of an OCD interior decorator would know words like cohesion and the exact material of my desk at her age. “She won’t like it,” she decides finally.