Page 36 of Lost in You (The Monroes 3)

Liam’s eyes narrowed. “Stop being snarky. I’m serious, Macy. I don’t want you hurt.”

She pushed off the wall and closed the space between them. Ignoring his tense posture, she placed her hands on his shoulders. “I don’t want anyone hurt. Why can’t we explore what’s between us?”

“Because there’s nothing between us.”

He pulled away, went to the shelf, grabbed his discarded tape, and threw her a glance over his shoulder. “I’ll be sure to stay away from now on. It would be best if you did the same.”

“Best for whom?”

He faced the other way, only offering his back when he replied, “Everyone.”

Maneuvering around her without touching or even looking at her, Liam went upstairs and closed the door. Macy sank to the floor, wrapped her arms around her drawn knees, and dropped her forehead. What she should do was leave him alone, but wasn’t that the problem? Hadn’t everyone left him? She wasn’t sure of his entire backstory, but she was slowly piecing things together. Liam was such a mess of emotions that even he didn’t know what to do with them.

Macy might be a pain in his ass, but she was going to prove to him that he wasn’t alone, that someone actually cared, and that he had a chance at so much more if he’d just let his guard down.

Chapter Eight

“Please, tell me you’re not serious.”

Liam wasn’t in the mood to discuss weddings, cakes, or anything remotely involving happy couples. But with Cora and Sophie sitting at the kitchen island, he could hardly turn them away. Now, if this were Zach and Braxton, he’d have no trouble telling them to get out of his kitchen.

“You think that’s a bad idea?” Cora asked.

Liam looked down at the picture of the bright yellow wedding cake with purple butterflies and pink flowers all over it and attempted to form words that weren’t too harsh. And that was just the exterior. The actual cake was marble. Marble. What was this? 1980?

“It’s hideous.”

Okay, that came out a little uglier than intended, but he wasn’t putting his stamp on this heinous cake and he sure as hell wanted something better for his family.

Sophie burst out laughing. “We’re teasing you.”

Cora’s fingertips felt along the counter until she came in contact with the notebook. Carefully, she flipped the page over and pointed to another picture. “I believe this is the real one. Did I turn to the three-layer cake?”

“You did,” he informed her. Liam studied the simple, cake with fresh blue hydrangeas between each cream-colored layer. “Better. What flavor cake do you guys want?”

“Can you do different flavors?” Cora asked. “I was thinking one classic white, one chocolate, and one raspberry. Your raspberry cake is amazing. But my favorite is still white and my parents would die if there was no chocolate.”

Liam nodded. “Of course. No problem. What flavor do you want the icing?”

As they went on to tell him what they wanted, Liam made notes on the page beside the picture. The two women were both in agreement on everything, which made his job easier. He’d only attempted one other double wedding and it had been two Bridezillas facing off and he’d landed in the middle. Weddings were definitely not his favorite event to come up with some grand, elaborate menu or cake. But he would go all out for his soon-to-be sisters-in-law.

“Oh, and can you do some of those strawberry macaroons like you had the other evening?” Sophie piped up. “Those things are amazing. Feel free to have those at the resort anytime. The guests raved about them.”

Liam nodded. “I’ll make sure to have them for every Wind Down with Wine when guests arrive and I’ll have them at your wedding.”

“We can use the outdoor patio and the sunroom for the reception, but we should keep the cake inside in case it’s hot out,” Sophie went on, glancing to Cora. “We already have the seating and tablecloths, so we won’t have to do much other than centerpieces.”

Cora nodded. “And since this will be a fairly small wedding, we won’t need to add any extra tables or chairs.”

As the women went back and forth, totally forgetting they were here to go over the menu, Liam’s cell vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and read the screen. His heart sped up as he swallowed and excused himself. He answered as he stepped out the back door and stood on the porch.

“Hello.”

“Liam.” Mark’s familiar voice boomed through the line. “Is this a bad time?”

“Not at all.” Liam glanced over his shoulder through the screen door. The ladies were still chatting, oblivious he’d even walked away. “I appreciate you returning my call.”

“I know we parted with some heated words, but you were still the best chef I’ve ever had.”

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