Page 30 of Harboring Secrets
“Taylor makes amazing bacon,” Brodie said.
I ordered the pancakes with extra bacon. Brodie ordered his sausages and eggs with whole wheat toast.
“Tell me about your sister,” he said, poking at his eggs when they arrived. He’d ordered them sunny side up and he stabbed a sausage into the center of one, dipping the sausage into the yolk.
“Carol? She’s older than me by about ten years. I was an accident. I was a teenager when we lost our parents and Carol had already been working toward the COO position of Dad’s company. Once they were gone, she was the major shareholder. She worked under the former COO until she was ready to take over as CEO. She’s always been very business focused.”
“Is she married? Do you have any nieces or nephews?”
“She’s single and unless you count her small army of cats, no.”
“Do you have pictures of her cats?” Brodie had finished his sausage in the time it took me to have a bite of pancake. He stole a slice of bacon off my plate and dunked it in the egg yolk.
I pulled my phone out and scrolled to the cat album I kept. “The black ones are Mimsy and Pip. The fluffy orange one is Gremlin and the smaller orange ones are Tom and Apple. Then the little tabby one is Miles and the gray one is Mushroom.”
Brodie scrolled through a million of the pictures, turning my phone to me every once in a while so we could both laugh at them. Eventually he returned my phone and we finished our breakfast. I’d managed to eat two slices of bacon and one of the sausages that mysteriously appeared on my plate.
“Did you have any plans for after breakfast?” I took the last sip of my now ice cold coffee. Josie had been around to offer refills, but I’d passed.
“Well, someone I know is new to town and I thought he might want me to show him around. Give him the guided tour. Show him where my brother’s bar is so maybe if he takes me out for drinks, he knows where not to take me.” Brodie bit his lip like he did when he was unsure or nervous.
It was my turn to reach for him. I took his hand in mine and slid our palms together. Gently, I twined my fingers in with his. “I’d like that very much.”
“Liam.” Brodie exhaled, his voice trembling. “What are we doing?”
I met his gaze and did everything I could to pour all my honesty and earnestness into my voice.
“I’d like to think that we’re starting over. That we’re going to date and get to know each other in ways we couldn’t when we were living in our little bubble. I’d like to think that what we’re doing is serious. Is that what you want? I know I hurt you, but no matter where I’ve been, wherever you are is where I want to be.” I took a breath and squeezed his hand gently. “What do you want?”
My heart stilled. Breath froze in my lungs. Limbo was agony, millions of needles in every nerve.
“I want more of this,” Brodie answered, sending light and color into my world and air into my lungs. “More dates. More talking. More getting to know you.”
“Getting to know each other.” I squeezed his hand and when he squeezed back it was like he was holding my heart.
Chapter 15
Brodie
Ourconversationatbreakfasthad left me feeling light as a feather. Some of that dreamy, floaty, head-over-heels feeling returned. It would be easy to exist in a bubble here too. Shane and Kieran were both busy with their own boyfriends and Mom had never been the type to interfere in our private lives. But bubbles always burst.
I didn’t want a bubble. I wanted a life. And to get it, I had to trust that Liam wasn’t going to hurt me again. Wanting was easy. It was the trusting that was harder.
After breakfast, we drove around town for a while. I showed him where The Anchor was and explained that there was a tattoo shop above it now, even though I’d never been in it.
“Did you ever think of getting a tattoo?” Liam asked me.
“Not really, to be honest. I like how they look on other people, but I don’t think they’d suit me. What about you?”
Liam shook his head. “Never really thought about it. When I was thirteen, back before my parents died, I wanted my eyebrow pierced.” Liam glanced my way and grinned. “That request did not go over well.”
“I once asked Mom for a motorbike and she nearly shit a kitten. I’d watched some daredevil jump a bunch of busses and, to a nine year-old, it was the coolest thing I ever saw.” The memory brought a smile to my face. “We never did have a lot of money, so a motorbike wasn’t going to happen. But she went white as a ghost and bribed me with my favorite cookies if I never asked that question again.”
“Was it hard? Being gone for so long? I bet you missed her.”
“I did. But we talked on Skype sometimes and I emailed a lot.”
“No postcards?”
