Page 8 of Liam

Liam.

He is home and in my house. He is home for good. I slide out of bed and walk into the kitchen.

I stop instantly once I see him. Dear God, give me strength. He is shirtless, tattoos running up and down his body, the muscles in his back flexing while he plates the food.

He turns around and looks at me, and my breath catches in my throat at the sight of his eight pack. Are those even legal? He clears his throat, and I tear my eyes away from his abs. His eyebrow arches and he smirks. Busted. I look at everything in the room but him. My face burns with embarrassment.

“What do you want to drink?” I can’t help but notice the amusement in his voice.

Fuck me.

“Water is good.”

He takes out two bottles of water, puts them under his arm, and picks up both plates.

“You made me breakfast.”

He is a sweetheart. He has always been a sweetheart. He’s always gone out of his way for people, doing things that others wouldn’t think about doing. I walk ahead of him into the living room and plop down on the couch, and he sits directly beside me. He hands me a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast.

“Thank you.” I smile and dig into my food. I am a foodie. I love any and all food, and I eat a lot of it. Thank goodness I have a high metabolism, or I would be screwed.

“You have work today?”

“Yeah,” I grumble. Any other day I would be happy to leave for work, but not today because I want to spend the day with him.

“What time do you have to be in?” he asks.

“Four.”

He nods. “You mind dropping me off at the clubhouse so I can get my truck? Then I will follow you to work.”

“Okay, that works for me.” I shrug.

* * *

We arrive at the clubhouse around three o’clock, and my father is the first person to step outside. He looks at me and then at Liam, who his keeping me by his side.

“Hey, baby girl.” Dad pulls me away from Liam, who snatches the back of my pants, not allowing me to go far. Dad glares at him, and Liam stares right back. The pissing match is for real with these two, and it’s only gotten worse. Neither would admit it, but they secretly like each other.

I roll my eyes at the two of them, and I spot my stepmother, Kayla, standing at the entrance looking highly amused. I pull away from them and they reluctantly let go.

Kayla pulls me into a hug. “I can’t believe he has gotten this hot,” she whispers into my ear and I laugh. She is right, he is a man now. All man. He is not what you would call pretty; he is huge and muscular and looks like a badass. He is beautiful, in his own way.

A way that I love.

“Tell me about it,” I whisper back. She giggles and Dad turns around to eye her. “Busted.” I laugh. She ducks into the warehouse, pulling me with her.

I spot my little brother playing with the other little kids, and he looks up and sees me. My heart lightens at the sight of his beautiful smile. He is now ten years old, and it’s so hard to believe.

He walks over to me and hugs me.

“Hey, little bro.” I muss up his hair, and he ducks and gives me the look. The look that is my father’s, the very one that tells me I am in deep shit. This never fazed me as a kid. I knew that I had him wrapped around my little finger. I learned, from a young age, that I just had to act all sad and cute and I’d get my way. If Dad said no, I would just go to one of the other guys in the club. It was great being the only girl for so long.

Butcher walks into the room and sees me. He waves me over and I hug his middle. Then I hug Techy and Kyle. I haven’t seen them in a couple of weeks; work has been getting the best of me.

“How is work?” Kyle asks, leaning against the table.

I grin. “I love it, but it’s tiring. Seems to be a lot of gunshot wounds here lately.” I look at them pointedly.

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