Page 77 of Lost in You (The Monroes 3)

Her cell rang again as she headed toward town. Thankfully the meeting place was only a few minutes away, because Macy didn’t know if she’d be able to drive too much farther. Her hands were shaking as she pressed the SPEAKER button on her steering wheel.

“Hello.”

“Where are you going?” Liam’s voice boomed through her car. “I saw your taillights as I was coming down your street. Did you not need me anymore tonight?”

“You have no idea how much I need you, but right now I can’t focus on cooking.” She made a left turn; only one more block to go. “I’m on my way to pick up a little girl and I burnt the hell out of those macaroni bites, so I need—”

“Wait. You’re picking her up now? Alone? Do you want me to meet you?”

Macy’s lights cut through the darkness as she turned into the parking lot. There was one other car and she knew exactly who waited on her. A child on Christmas morning wasn’t this excited. There were no words. Macy just hoped she could truly make a difference.

“No. Let yourself into my house.” She gave him the code and promised to be home shortly. Hopefully he’d do something magical in her kitchen and her father’s party wouldn’t be a disaster.

Honestly, though. She didn’t care. She knew her father wouldn’t care, either. There was a little girl in need and Macy was making her top priority.

Everyone would understand.

“I have to go,” she told him. “I don’t know how long I’ll be, but . . . just . . .”

“I’ll stay,” he told her. “Go get your girl.”

Macy swallowed the emotions welling up in her throat. He totally got her. Since a few nights ago when she’d finally opened up to him about her past, they’d been connected in a way she couldn’t explain. But she still hadn’t been able to get him to open up completely. He still kept a measure of distance, which was wise on his part if he was so determined to leave. Lately, Macy was just as determined to get him to stay.

Pushing everything aside—the party, Liam, her own doubts and fears—Macy pulled next to the SUV and killed the engine. There was a little girl who needed comforting right now and Macy was more than ready to show her all the love.

Chapter Seventeen

Liam had purposely stayed away from Macy for a couple days. He needed to think, get some space so he could figure out what he truly wanted.

He’d taken a few hours away from the resort and gone to Magnolias to speak to Mark. They’d agreed on a very reasonable price and Liam wouldn’t even have to finance the entire cost.

But there was still that opportunity here in Haven . . . and he didn’t mean connecting with Macy. So many factors weighed on his decision. So many things he never even knew he wanted, never thought a possibility.

Since he hadn’t seen her for a few days, he was anxious to get to her place. But she was out picking up a little girl and this would change the dynamics of everything. Liam hadn’t thought about a family of his own; that was one of the things he’d automatically dismissed. But he was here now, and he would give Macy the support she needed.

Liam entered Macy’s garage using the code, then hit the button to send the door back down. Whatever she’d killed in the kitchen had permeated the garage. How did someone destroy so many mac ’n cheese bites? The image she’d sent him had him laughing, but at the same time, how the hell? Seriously. The recipe wasn’t difficult. She’d made his mother’s dumplings, for pity’s sake, and she managed to murder these simple bites?

The moment he stepped into the kitchen, he groaned. Yeah. These were for the garbage. He doubted even the neighborhood dogs would want them. Hell, Zach’s pups would snub their noses at the hockey pucks.

Liam cleaned up her mess. Clearly she’d been in a hurry to get out the door. She had bowls in the sink, pans with half-burnt cheese on them lying on the counter, wax paper cemeteries for the bites, and boxes of pasta all over. Just looking at the mess made him twitch. He thrived on a clean work environment. Besides the fact that professional kitchens had health codes to follow, Liam couldn’t handle an untidy work space.

As he tossed the mess, wiped off her counters, and started searching for more ingredients to get the party food made up, his mind remained on Macy and the little girl she was bringing home. He remembered when he’d first been sent into foster care. The unknowns terrified him, and perhaps rightly so, considering what had happened to him.

But the system wasn’t always so dark. There were wonderful families out there, amazing people who selflessly took children into their homes and loved them. The Monroes, Zach and Sophie, and now Macy.

Liam put water on to boil for more of the pasta. He couldn’t even imagine the anticipation Macy must be feeling. He kept waiting to hear her garage door go up, for her to walk in with a little girl.

Should he even be here? Would seeing him scare the girl? Who knew what type of home life she came from and if she was afraid of men?

Doubts had Liam turning off the burner and tossing the water. He’d make these up at home in no time. He’d already smoked the pork for the sliders, the cupcakes only needed to be iced, and Macy had texted him to say she’d managed the nonbaking finger foods just fine. So they were on track for now.

Damn it. He was running again. There was no way of getting around the truth. He was afraid to stay here, afraid he’d scare the little girl, afraid he’d feel too much like he was waiting on a family to come home . . . his family.

Liam raked a hand through his hair and started toward the front door, but froze as the soft whir of the garage door started. Well, there was no leaving now.

Pulling in a deep breath, Liam attempted to shove aside his jumbled up thoughts as he waited for the door leading from the garage to the kitchen to open. He sincerely hoped the little girl didn’t come from a home where she’d been mistreated by a man . . . or anyone for that matter. He just didn’t want to scare her.

Especially with his scar. Damn it. When Macy had told him she was bringing a little one back, he should’ve gone home right then. This wasn’t his place. He and Macy weren’t . . .

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