Page 9 of Trouble

“No, don’t be silly,” he said, waving my hands away when I tried to put down money for my half. “This one was onme.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he just quirked an eyebrow at me. “Let go of the reins, Audrey. You might just enjoyit.”

I stared at him. “I’m not… I just want to pay for mypart.”

“Guess you’re out of luck then, huh?” he teased, snatching the tray—with his money still on it—before I could make another attempt at tossing any notes at him. “Let me know what you think of that beer when I get back,love.”

I pinched my lips at his retreating back. It was starting to dawn on me that perhaps Eileen hadn’t beenentirelywrong when she’d dubbed my meeting with Liam adate.

But maybe that was just what he was like—he seemed like a nice person, underneath all the swagger. I mean, who asked a woman out on a date without even letting herknow?

When Liam returned, smile still in place, I’d convinced myself I was beingridiculous.

“What’s the verdict on that beer, then?” he asked, eyes twinkling with something that looked an awful lot likemischief.

“Well, I can’t very well have you rescue meandpay for my dinner, then not buy you that beer I promised,” I said, glancing down at my phone to check the time. Nine o’clock. I was usually on my way to bed at this time, and I had work in the morning, but… I gave Liam’s grinning face a glance, feeling that still-unsettling warmth nestle into my chest when his eyes caughtmine.

Apart from it being rude of me to decline after he’d paid for dinner, I found I didn’t want the night to end justyet.

“Where would you like togo?”

* * *

The barhe took me to was up a cobbled side road a couple of blocks away, and from the looks of it, it was a real, old-fashioned pub that someone had attempted to modernize within the past decade. The lighting was pleasantly dimmed and the clientele just the kind of artsy hipsters you’d expect to find hanging out among artisan draft beer on a Monday evening. I stuck out like a sore thumb in my dressy officewear.

“All right then, what’ll it be, Mr. Steel?” I said and grabbed my wallet. “What can possibly do just payment for your masterful craftsmanship on myheel?”

Liam’s eyes glinted with amusement at my posturing. “Any lager willdo.”

I arched an eyebrow at him. “Really? You take me to Hipster Haven and don’t want a micro brewed, oak-seasoned hop-sensation? Howdisappointing.”

“Fine, surprise me, then,” he said, jerking a thumb at an empty booth on the far end. “I’ll grab us a table while youorder.”

To Liam’s credit, he didn’t even wince when I five minutes later put a pint ofMidnight Wheat, Warming Spices, and a Hint of Vanilladown in front of him, along with my own chocolate-caramelale.

“The bartender assured me it would turn your deadened taste buds around to real beer,” I said, sliding in next to him when he moved over to make space for me. It wasn’t until I was already sat down I realized the small manipulation in getting me to sit next to him rather than on the other side of thetable.

“…Liam?”

“Yes, love?” His tone was light as he took a sip of his drink, grimacing at the firsttaste.

“Is this… this isn’t adate,is it?” I asked, taking a drink of my own beer as I glanced at him out the corner of myeye.

“Why? Would you mind if it was?” he asked, as nonchalantly as if I’d just asked him about the damnweather.

I nearly choked on the ale. “I—you—I’mmucholder than you.” Okay, so the emphasis on “much” was probably going a bit overboard, but it was the first argument my tipsy brain graspedonto.

Liam arched an eyebrow at me. “Yeah? How old are you then,Grandma?”

“Thirty-two,” I said, narrowing my eyes at the grandma comment. “What are you, twenty-one?”

This time, I got a fulllaugh.

“I’m twenty-five, love. Plenty old enough.” Without hesitating for even a moment, he let a fingertip brush over the back of my ale-free hand resting on the table between us. It sent a warm rush of sensation up the length of my arm. “When did you last take the time to just enjoy a man’s company, Audrey? If I were the betting sort, I’d wager you’ve let your damn work consume so much of your life, you don’t even remember when you last shared a drink with a bloke not on your company’s clientlist.”

I opened my mouth to protest—but even as I racked my brain, I knew he wasright.

“Look, I’ve enjoyed the evening. I think you have too. Doesn’t have to be anything more than that, if you don’t want it to be.” Liam flashed me an easy smile and took another swig of his beer, without moving his hand frommine.

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