Page 26 of Baby For My Ex's Brother

We reach the rental car counter, which is buzzing with a line of similarly stranded passengers, their faces etched with frustration and fatigue. But when Liam approaches, the air shifts—it's like everyone senses the hurricane that's just walked up, ready to make landfall.

"Give me a car. The best one you've got left," he demands, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

The agent behind the counter looks up, weary but wary, clearly recognizing the kind of man who won't take 'no' for an answer. "Sir, we're nearly out of vehicles because of the weather..."

"Then get creative," Liam snaps, impatience bleeding into his words. "I have places to be."

My stomach churns uneasily. Am I really about to embark on this ill-conceived road trip with a man who could only politely be described as my boss—and, more accurately, as the source of my most complicated emotions? The same man who, just last night, was asking me if I wanted to be—

No, I shake the thought away.

"Fine, sir. Let me see what I can do," the agent relents, tapping away at the keyboard with practiced resignation.

And so, we wait. I stand slightly behind Liam, watching the tense set of his shoulders and the way his hand clenches and unclenches at his side. There's a tempest brewing within him, and I can't help but wonder if I'm about to get caught in its eye.

The agent's eyes flicker with a mix of sympathy and annoyance as he glances between his computer screen and Liam. "Like I said, we're almost out of cars. Everyone had the same idea when the cancellations started."

Liam leans in, his jaw set hard enough to chisel stone. He pulls out a wad of cash, thick and impatient, and slams it down on the counter with a thud that seems to echo my racing heartbeat. "Then make something happen. Get me a damn car."

Money talks—a language that seems universal—and the agent's resigned sigh tells me he understands it fluently. My chest tightens at the sight, the raw power Liam wields without hesitation.

"Alright," the agent concedes, scooping up the cash. "I'll see what we have." His fingers fly over the keyboard, and within moments, he retrieves a key from a drawer behind him and slides it across the counter towards Liam. "Last one. It's yours."

"Good." Liam grabs the key, and I'm right behind him as he turns on his heel.

"Wait, my bag—" I blurt out, stumbling over my words as much as my feet. "It's already checked."

"Mine too," he growls without looking back. "They'll get them to us, or they'll have a hefty lawsuit dropped on them."

There's no room for argument in his voice, just a steely certainty that brooks no dissent. I swallow hard, following him through the sliding doors into the rain-soaked world outside.

The rain is a relentless drumbeat, pounding on the roof of the rental car as we stand just outside. I pull my jacket tighter around me, trying to draw some warmth into my bones, but it's no use. The chill isn't just from the weather.

"Why are you in such a hurry to get back to Boston?" I ask, raising my voice over the storm. "Maybe we should wait it out."

Liam's gaze cuts through the rain like a blade. "I can't stand to spend any extra damn time with you," he snarls, his jaw set, eyes flashing with something I can't quite read. Anger? Frustration? It doesn't matter.

“I could fly back,” I start as the car pulls up—a shiny silver Mercedes. “If you don’t want—”

He tosses his bag into the trunk and then stands there, glaring at me. "Get in the car, Shiloh."

"Or what?" The question slips out before I can reel it back in, my own temper flaring up. But the look he gives me, dark and unreadable, has me biting back any further retort.

I hesitate, watching him. Every logical bone in my body screams at me to walk away and find another way back. But instead, I slide into the passenger seat, pulling the door shut against the storm. There's something about Liam—something that keeps me tethered to him despite the chaos.

As Liam puts the car into gear and we pull out of the lot, I stare out the window at the blurry lights of the airport recedingbehind us. My thoughts chase each other like the raindrops on the glass.

Have I made a huge mistake?

Why am I so intent on staying close to a man who seems to despise me, a man whose very presence stirs up a storm inside me as perilous as the one outside?

The windshield wipers beat a steady rhythm, and Liam’s silence is a cold void next to me. I shiver, though not from the rain anymore.

This drive back to Boston is going to be long, and I can't help but wonder what awaits us at the end.

Chapter eleven

Liam

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