Page 43 of Fix Them Up
Fuck. I could feel heat travelling up my neck.
‘Well, you know,’ I sputtered, ‘their husbands are probably long dead. And they haven’t had their eyes tested in a while. So anything will do.’
Was that funny enough to play off my blunder?
‘I have been called a last resort before,’ Liam said dryly, with an arched eyebrow.
It took me a while to realise he’d quoted what I’d said at the social club.
I winced. ‘Not my finest moment.’
‘Come on, you can’t go back on it now.’ Liam laughed. ‘You’ve made up for it with “eye candy”. I think I could probably use that to fuel my ego for the next five to seven years.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Typical man.’
Liam laughed as he busied himself in the kitchen, adding milk to the tea. I looked out the bifold doors into a spacious garden, and at the end of the garden was a mini house made of bricks and wooden beams. It looked like something out of a fairy tale, slightly out of place for a residential area, but the garden was big enough that it worked.
‘Is that the annexe?’ I asked, mouth agape.
Liam joined me at the doors and handed me a mug of tea.
‘Yeah.’
‘You have to be kidding me.’
‘What?’
‘Liam. Look at it. It’s like, from a film. It’s ridiculous.’
‘I googled some ideas and picked it. Do you want to have a look? I’ll grab your bags.’
He ‘googled some ideas’. It looked like a mini version of the cottage fromThe Holiday, for fuck’s sake.
I shook my head. ‘You are too chill about this.’
Liam leaned to take the mug of tea from my hands. Our fingers brushed, and that familiar shiver trailed up my arm. I glanced up to see Liam looking intently at my hands, his brow furrowed.
‘Your hands are cold,’ he murmured. He placed our mugs on the sidetable beside the sofa and drew my hands between his.
‘I’m always cold,’ I explained, my voice going a bit hoarse. It was true. I was always cold, my hands and feet especially.
Liam frowned as if personally offended by the temperature of my hands. He continued to hold them between his much warmer, calloused ones.
‘There,’ he said, glancing down at me again, and I realised how close we were standing. Our eyes met, and time slowed. Liam’s face softened, and I swore that, momentarily, he felt it, too – the electricity. His eyes darted down to my lips, and he leaned forward slightly, like he couldn’t help himself.
He blinked, and it was gone.
My cheeks heated. I needed to pull myself together. It was pathetic pining for some man who basically hated me less than twenty-four hours ago.
Liam cleared his throat. ‘I need to check the heating is on. It gets cold in there.’
Liam led the way down the stone path to the house. Solar lights were dotted about either side of the path, making it easy to find in the dark. I stood at the door, not knowing what to do next. Liam reached up to the door frame; his shirt lifted, revealing a line of toned skin across his lower back.
‘There is a spare key. You can leave it here if you like; it’s a pretty safe area.’
He unlocked the door, and we stepped into the annexe, the smell of pine in the air. The cosy room had a small kitchenette on the left, with a dining table and two chairs. Two well-worn armchairs sat in front of an electric fireplace with floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books on either side. It was homely and sweet but also had that well-worn look, which differed from the modern appliances and furniture in Liam’s house.
‘It should have everything you need for a few weeks.’ Liam dropped my bags onto one of the armchairs and strode to the back of the little cabin, oblivious to my gaping mouth. ‘It’s a small bedroom, but it has an en suite, too, so you won’t need to walk into the main house for the loo.’
