Page 2 of Lost in You (The Monroes 3)

Macy moved around the old, scarred wrap counter that sat in the middle of the store. Liam didn’t budge as she approached him. She’d always been tall, but next to him she felt tiny, feminine. For a woman being five feet ten inches and owning a hardware store, Macy relished the simplest things that made her feel like a woman . . . like her slight addiction to pretty lingerie. She’d always been athletic, not the type to paint her face with makeup or wear the latest styles. Sports and tools had been her staples growing up. Oh, and her cowgirl boots. She never left home without them.

“I’ll fix it.” He tipped his head slightly to the left, a habit she noticed and knew he didn’t even realize he was doing. The vain attempt at hiding his scar came second nature to him. “Just give me the tub.”

Macy crossed her arms, her elbows brushing slightly against his chest. Well, hello there, glorious muscle tone.

“You’re my tenant,” she reminded him, though she was mentally reminding herself as well. “I’ll take care of any problems.”

“I can fix the damn sink, Macy.”

Why did she have to watch his lips as he said her name? Did she enjoy the torture? Apparently masochism was another trait she possessed. He didn’t say her name often, but when he did she took a moment to savor the way his low, throaty tone delivered the simple word.

Macy placed a hand on his chest, to move him and to get a feel for those pecs again, and pushed him aside. She made her way to the front of the store where she’d just finished the plumbing display with all the essentials for a DIY project. Had she not stayed after to finish this project, she wouldn’t be dealing with her sexy tenant.

The second she wrapped her fingers around the tub of putty, Liam reached over her shoulder and covered her hand. The warmth from his body radiated against her back and Macy closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and willed herself not to whirl around and plaster herself against him. Would that be coming on too strong?

Still, she could take just a moment and memorize the way he perfectly curled his fingers against her own.

Flirting was second nature to her. Liam wasn’t the only one with scars; Macy’s just happened to be on the inside. Physical relationships were all she did. One time she’d allowed herself to foolishly fall into young lust, and she’d never been the same since.

Men were too easy. They tended to want one thing, so she gave it . . . on her terms. She always remained in complete control over what she would give. Never again would a man hold any power over her—power laced with undeniable strength.

But Macy knew Liam wouldn’t be easy. She knew he wasn’t going to just go away or get out of her mind. Liam was a complication she couldn’t afford. She’d barely recovered from the last time she opened herself and that had been years ago. She’d come back to heal from the assault, and she was still here.

“Go on home,” he told her, prying the tub from her hand. “I’ve got this.”

When she could pull in a good, solid breath, Macy turned. “Do we have to argue about this?”

One broad shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I’m not arguing. I’m going upstairs to fix my sink, hit the punching bag, then try a new recipe.”

That combo pretty much summed up Liam Monroe. He was as complex and simple as that.

Her eyes raked over that form-fitting T. “You don’t dress like a chef.”

“My whites are in the wash.”

He never missed a beat to come back with some sarcastic reply. That dry humor of his had always been another pull for her. Damn him for being appealing even when his snarky side kicked in.

“Dad has a poker game tonight, so no rush for me to hurry home with dinner,” she said.

Macy tried to make sure her father had a nice meal each night, though she bought takeout and brought it back to her house. Cooking definitely wasn’t one of her skills. Buying for two was actually cheaper than going to the store and cooking, especially considering she’d most likely burn the dish and they’d have to buy anyway. She was frugal that way.

Actually, Macy liked having her dad close. Though they each had their own space, he was in and out of the store often, most likely checking up on her. This was the first time ever they hadn’t lived under the same roof except that brief period she was away at college.

“It’s Friday,” Liam commented. “Go get ready for your date and just deduct the putty from my rent.”

It took her a moment, but the words sank in. “I don’t have a date tonight,” Macy stated, propping her hands on her hips. Of course he’d assume she had a date. She dated often. She knew what people thought, though they were usually discreet about saying anything. Nobody knew she used her social life as a mask for the pain. Nobody would ever know.

Liam stared at her for another minute before shaking his head and turning away. Without a word, he started for the back of the store and went right on up the steps. Seriously? Did he think because he said so that she would just go on home? Apparently he didn’t know her at all.

They’d been a few years apart in school and Macy had been swamped with keeping her good grades up and being the star player of her softball team. But she still made time to daydream and appreciate the sultry, sexy Liam Monroe. The oldest of the Monroe boys and the quietest. Why were those silent types the most intriguing?

Since she had been friends with his late sister, Chelsea, Macy had been able to get a little closer to Liam than just random passes through the hall at school. But when Liam was in an accident that left him scarred, he pulled away from people, his family most of all. That all happened around the same time Macy went off to college on a softball scholarship.

Little did she know her entire life would change in the most drastic of ways.

Shoving aside her mother’s untimely death and the incident she refused to give her thoughts to, Macy made sure the store alarm was set, the outside lights turned off. Then she marched right up those steps and pounded on the door to Liam’s apartment.

The entire second floor was an open living space, save for the two bedrooms and bath. Her grandparents had bought the old building with a dream and a vision. They’d established the hardware store and when her mother took ov

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