Page 22 of Return
And slammed right into someone solid.
Strong hands caught her elbows, steadying her. “Easy there.”
Oh, for the love of God. Seriously?
She didn’t even have to look up to know who it was. The scent of soap and the faintest trace of oil paint gave him away before she even met his gaze.
Liam.
His hands lingered just a second too long before he released her. He’d noticed the large stain on the front of her jeans and she had a face like thunder. “What’s happened, love?”
Sophie looked at him and found that she couldn’t bring herself to explain. Which mattered little because Ollie did it for her.
He came up behind her and smelled her hair. “You smell good, you know that? Where do you want to go now? I’ll take you anywhere.”
Liam’s expression shifted just slightly.
She felt the absurd urge to say something, to explain herself, but why? She didn’t owe Liam anything. Not an explanation, not an apology. They were friends, and that was all. Nothing more.
Sophie’s face burned with embarrassment. All she wanted was to get the hell out of there and go home. So, that’s what she did. She shoved Ollie away, muttered a simple ‘Goodnight’ to Liam, and walked out.
Chapter8
Since runninginto Liam while on her disaster of a date, Sophie had mastered the art of avoidance. It wasn’t easy, considering Liam had the uncanny ability to be everywhere she didn’t want him to be. But she was nothing if not determined. For the past week, she’d timed her arrivals and departures from his studio with military precision, ensuring she never ran into him.
Was it childish? Well, duh. But it was necessary.
The last time she’d seen him, she’d been on a date.
Albeit a date that had gone from bad to utterly mortifying before she’d even had her first pint.
But even worse? Liam had witnessed the whole humiliating ordeal.
Well, wasn’t that just dandy? That really made her eager to dive back into the dating pool.
The worst part wasn’t even the date itself. Sure, it was awful, but she’d get over it. What really stung was that Liam, of all people, had been there.
Whatever. None of it mattered.
What mattered was getting the bar refinished and getting out of Liam’s studio before her defenses cracked. Before he said something in that quiet, patient way of his that made her want to forget why she was keeping her distance.
Brushing sawdust from her coveralls and cap, Sophie stepped back, inspecting the gleaming wood beneath her fingertips. With the sanding and repair of a small crack now finished, the next day she could apply the first coat of sealer. The multiple coats would take a week or more to cure but once they were, she would be finished for good. Then she wouldn’t have to worry so much about running into him. Obviously, she couldn’t avoid him forever but for now, it was best.
The plan was solid.
Sophie stood up straight, stretching out her back and arms. It had been a good day’s work, and she was on the home stretch. She stepped out from her dusty coveralls, then hung them on a coat hook on the door. Pleased with both her progress and flawless plan, she picked up her handbag and retrieved her phone and saw she’d missed several messages from her brother. No matter, she was on her way home now. She would get to the car and read them once she was seated. Right now, all she wanted was a hot shower and a drink. Whatever it was Keefe wanted had waited this long. She would deal with it when she got home.
She put her phone back in her purse and fished out her car keys. She opened the door—and stepped into six inches of snow.
Shit.
So that’s why Keefe had left so many messages. He was trying to warn her about the snowfall.
Now, Sophie, having grown up in New England, was no stranger to snow and getting around in it. However, Ireland, with all its charms and ravishing beauty, was quite different.
They didn’t have snowplows.
They didn’t even have snow tires.
