Page 30 of The Love Chase

Liam chuckled. “Neither am I, Em. Bridget already took care of living arrangements. There’s a townhouse on the edge of Meridel.” He paused, clearing his throat, a slight red tint rising in his cheeks. “It’s nice. Cozy.” Then he met my gaze. “It’s ours.”

I should have expected Bridget to make sure we were set up to maintain the marriage front, but for some reason the words “It’s ours” did strange flippy things to my insides.

Liam and I had a home…We were going to live together in the same house.

It was something I had never allowed myself to dream about. I couldn’t quite decide if I was happy or terrified.

“So, if you’re really sure—”

“I said I’d do this, Liam.”

He put his hands up in surrender. “Okay. We can start moving your things in this week if you want. You can do the decorating. It’ll be your home as much as mine. I want you to feel comfortable there.”

Not likely.

“Then after the wedding, we’ll live there as a couple.” His cheeks reddened further. “Unfortunately, it’s a one-bedroom townhouse though.”

His words trailed off slowly, and with them, my stomach sank even further.

“I can put in a murphy bed or something in the office nook and you can have the bedroom,” he hurried to add. “Whatever makes you the most comfortable.”

I’d have to not only live with Liam…but also live in a place with one bedroom?

“Did Bridget do that on purpose?” I blurted, suspicion flooding through me. It wouldn’t surprise me if his manager had done this as a way to meddle and force us together.

Liam looked sheepish. “She claimed that it was the only one available, but…” He let out a long breath. “It wouldn’t surprise me. But maybe it’s a good thing, Emma. If people found out it was a two bedroom, then they might question us, but with a one bedroom, no one would wonder whether this was real because who would live in close quarters unless they loved each other?”

“Right,” I replied, at a loss for words. Silence fell until I blurted, “Is there a garage?”

Liam’s brow rose. “Yes, two cars.”

“Good, good.” My brain went to all the equipment in the third stall of Jameson’s garage. I needed a place to put it all, and it didn’t sound like the townhouse itself was going to be big enough.

“Why do you ask?”

I met his green eyes. “It’s probably easier if I show you.”

Liam

There were so many buttons and knobs and screens and doohickeys, I didn’t even know where to look first. I knew Emma was a weather nerd, but I hadn’t expected to find this when she led me out into Jameson’s garage.

“What is all this?” I finally managed to ask. There were several radar screens lit up in bright colors, a weird looking radio thing, a fancy camera, and lots of buttons to push.

“Storm chasing gear,” she answered with a shrug as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

When we were teenagers, she had always loved to stand on the porch of my parents’ home and watch as the storms rolled in, whispering her secret desire to chase after them someday, but never had I dreamed that she would actually do it. I mean, who wants to chase a freaking tornado?

“I got my meteorology degree at ISU,” she explained. “I was supposed to be doing an internship with the Midwest Storm Research Center this summer but it…fell through.” She hesitated at the end, and it made me wonder what she wasn’t telling me. It was always easy to tell when she wasn’t being honest by the way she bit her lip and fidgeted with her hands.

“I bought all this gear so that I’d be set up to chase whenever I needed to, with the hope that I looked more appealing when applying for internships.”

“You really want to drive into tornadoes,” I said in wonder, poking at a colorful button on one of the instruments.

She swatted my hand away. “I’m not driving into tornadoes, goofball. I stay at a distance and measure all the things that go into creating these storms. Getting close is often the only way to get new data that helps us understand and better predict them.”

“But isn’t it dangerous?” I asked, turning back to her.

She was thoughtful for a moment. “There’s always a certain level of danger, but if you know what you’re doing—which I do—then everything should be fine.” She lovingly ran her hand over the bright blue Ford pickup truck somehow squeezed into the garage behind me. “Bluebell here will keep me safe.”

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