Page 42 of Lost in You (The Monroes 3)

Because when that man let loose, he seriously could make a woman fall at his feet and beg.

No, she couldn’t fall. That would mean he had all the power and she refused to let that happen again. She’d said some ugly things last night, hurtful things. Liam was nothing like the guy who’d hurt her. To even compare the two was like comparing good and evil, and it wasn’t fair to Liam.

As she followed him, she grabbed her house keys off the side table by the door, shoved her feet into her favorite cowgirl boots, and locked up. Night had settled in and she couldn’t believe she was

actually going to his apartment, her old childhood home, for a cooking lesson of all things. How the hell had she managed to find herself in this predicament?

Oh, yeah. She wanted her father to have the best surprise party ever and she couldn’t say no to Liam Monroe.

Maybe she’d end up begging after all before the night was over.

* * *

Clearly all common sense had flown out the window. What was he thinking bringing her back to his apartment? Not only that, he’d been adamant about driving her. Yes, he wanted to get to know her more, away from the sexual tension and more on friendly terms, but he should’ve let her drive herself.

Liam led the way up the back steps and unlocked the door. After reaching in and flicking on the light, he gestured for her to enter ahead of him.

“I feel ridiculous inviting you into your own place,” he told her as he hung his keys on the hook by the door.

Macy’s smile instantly warmed him. “It’s your place now.”

“This will always be yours,” he countered. “I won’t be here forever.”

Liam was glad he’d picked up the place earlier. Not that he was a slob, and it wasn’t as if he had unpacked all of his belongings. But the occasional shirt or shoes were left out, or glasses on the end table. Typical guy living, but he was meticulous when it came to his kitchen. And this apartment, for being a small space, was pretty amazing.

Phil Hayward had outdone himself on the renovating, and even though Liam was used to top of the line, the appliances and countertops weren’t too far from the best. Of course Phil most likely was able to get all of this at cost, so upgrades were more affordable.

“You’ve not really done much with the place,” Macy commented, running her hand along the back of the leather sofa. “I mean, it’s the same, but a little different. Definitely more masculine, like a bachelor pad. My mother would want to add some throw pillows or a few pictures if she were here.”

The wistfulness in her tone had him wanting to move toward her, but if she was feeling emotional, the last thing either of them needed was him trying to comfort her. Comfort led to touching, which led to hugging, which led to kissing, and the last time he’d kissed her he’d ended up with his hand in her pants and she’d been trembling in his arms.

So, no comforting. At all.

“Do you like your new house?” he asked, hoping to steer the topic toward something positive and more upbeat.

“I love it.” Macy walked toward the open kitchen and smiled at the marks on the wall. “I always got so excited when Dad would measure me. I wanted to be grown up so bad.”

Liam remained near the door, just letting her talk through her memories. He had his own that he replayed through his head. It was those childhood memories, from the good years, that kept him going on the tough days. Maybe he and Macy did have something in common after all.

“Being an adult is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.” She laughed as she turned back to face him. “I think I’d rather go back to the days of fort building and finger painting.”

“If you can pay the bills that way, let me know how,” he replied.

Macy pulled in a deep breath and sighed. Smoothing her stray strands away from her face, she glanced toward the kitchen. “So, what are we starting with?”

He hadn’t thought that far ahead, actually. He’d watched her take in the apartment. He’d tried to look at anything other than those long, bare legs between the hem of her shorts and her boots . . . failing miserably. The shoulder peeking from her shirt practically begged him to reach out and see if her skin was as soft as it looked.

If he hadn’t known better, he’d swear she’d put this outfit on to torture him. But she hadn’t known he’d show up at her house.

Glancing at his watch, he shrugged. “Do you have anywhere to be in the morning?”

With a burst of laughter, she shook her head. “Am I going to be here all night?”

The possibilities were endless. He stepped closer, keeping his eyes locked on hers. “Depends on how obedient you are as a student.”

Her eyes widened and he ignored the flare of desire in them as he passed her and rounded the center island. He seriously needed to watch his vocabulary where she was concerned. Everything took on a different meaning when trying to dance around sexual tension.

Liam quickly racked his brain to think of what he should tackle that wouldn’t be too overwhelming for her. Resting his palms on the granite island top, he leaned forward. “What are your thoughts for your dad’s party?”

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