Page 23 of Forget Me Not
Liam nods as he unpacks the brown bags: two sandwiches in plastic, oddly shaped carrots he pulled from the garden. Then he hands me my sandwich and I unwrap it quickly, taking a large, ravenous bite.
“How do you handle it all on your own?” I ask next, gesturing to the grapes and the garden; the animals in their pens and the shed out back. “This place is so big.”
“It’s manageable,” he says. “In the off-season, at least.”
I watch as he takes a long swig of his beer, the tendons in his neck pulling as he swallows.
“I won’t lie to you, though. I’m enjoying the company.”
He smiles at me, the crow’s-feet by his eyes setting even deeper, and maybe it’s because he’s in his element now, the afternoon glow of this picturesque place, but something about Liam strikes me as even more attractive than he was just yesterday.
I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs in the dip of his throat; the dark tan of his arms and the way the veins bulge in his biceps, a kind of rugged appeal I hadn’t noticed before.
“You got a boyfriend back home?” he asks, eyebrows lifting with insinuation. I feel my cheeks turn hot, wondering if he caught me staring, though I doubt he can see the blush creeping in. I’m already flushed from the sun, my face warm and pink. “Any visitors we should be expecting?”
“I’m… sorry?” I ask, taken aback by the change in topic.
“If so, you should probably let him know,” he says, going back to his sandwich. “Mitchell. He doesn’t really like unexpected company.”
“Oh, no,” I say, my face feeling hot again. At my mistake, my assumption that he was asking because he was actually interested, but also because a flash of Ryan has suddenly entered my mind along with a wave of guilt that feels unexpected and strange. “He won’t have to worry about that. It’s just me.”
“That’s surprising,” Liam says, and I watch as he ducks his head, like he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Just, you know. You’re very pretty.”
I smile at him, charmed by the compliment.
“Eight million people in New York City and I still haven’t managed to meet the right one.”
Liam smirks, turning his attention back toward the vineyard.
“Well, I’m sorry to say you won’t find many prospects on the island, either.”
“What is the population out here, anyway?” I ask, my teeth snapping into a carrot.
“A couple hundred,” he says. “If that. The center of town is about ten miles away, but there’s not much there other than a general store and a diner. You and I might be the youngest two people on this whole spit of land.”
He holds his beer out with a cheeky grin and I tip mine against his, smiling back.
We’re quiet for a while, the moment between us heavy and charged. I’m still sipping my beer, eyes trained on an egret wading in the distance, when Liam’s voice starts up again—only this time, it sounds different, strained.
“Listen, I don’t mean to pry,” he starts, and when I turn to face him, I can tell he’s deliberately not looking at me, staring intentlyat the grass beneath. “But I have to ask. Last night, I overheard you talking about your occupation.This and that.”
He turns to me, finally, eyebrows raised.
“What, exactly, does that mean?”
“Oh.” I laugh, trying to sound blithe. Thinking of the way he had been eyeing me last night, that suspicious stare as he stood in the kitchen.
The way he swooped in when Mitchell kept prying like he could tell I couldn’t come up with a valid response.
“I guess it means I might be between jobs.”
“Well yeah, I gathered that,” he says. “Why else would you be here.”
I stay quiet, mentally flipping through all the possible excuses.
“It’s just that I’m in charge of the labor around here,” he continues. “Which also means I’m in charge ofyou.So I have to have at least a general idea of your background, you know. Of who you are.”
I gaze down at the blanket beneath us, pupils tracing the patterned fabric.
