Page 62 of Lost in You (The Monroes 3)

Liam shoved his hands in his pockets. So were they just moving on like nothing had happened? Like she hadn’t just exposed herself by coming here, by allowing their intimacy without protection, and then showing just how vulnerable she was by not staying? He would play this game, but only for so long.

No matter how shallow a relationship they’d agreed upon, he would figure out what was holding her back. Had anyone ever attempted to heal her? Doubtful she’d let them, but he wasn’t giving up.

“He was a little banged up, but otherwise fine.”

“I heard Rand hit him.”

Liam couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah. Asshole was drinking and driving. I imagine his days as mayor are over.”

He’d been a thorn in Braxton’s side for years, and so damn arrogant. Liam wasn’t sorry the mayor would be out of a job. Though Liam wished Braxton hadn’t gotten hurt or a mangled truck out of the ordeal.

When Macy turned back to the door to go, Liam didn’t want her to leave feeling unsure or as if this was complicated. Granted they had complication stamped all over their relationship. He wanted her to feel at ease because that was the only way he’d truly earn her trust and she damn well needed someone to talk to about this.

“Come back tomorrow,” he told her. “You’re going to start working on party experiments.”

She flashed a smile back at him as she opened the door. “I’d like that.”

And then she was gone. As if she hadn’t come in here, rocked his world with that greeting she’d given him. He hadn’t even known he had a fetish for a girl in an apron, but he sure as hell wouldn’t look at those things the same ever again.

Liam vowed to give her the space she needed, but he wasn’t backing down. Now more than ever he wanted her in his bed . . . for a totally different reason than he’d started with. She said he was different for her; that gave him all the ammunition he needed to get her to fully heal.

Because, damn it, she was different for him, too, and he wasn’t about to let another man show her the right way a woman should be treated.

Chapter Fourteen

How much did a teenage boy eat?

Liam slid two more pancakes onto Brock’s plate. The boy had showed up at nine and Liam knew something was up. Without questioning him, he let Brock in and started breakfast. Clearly something was going on, because no teen was up that early when he didn’t have to be.

“Not working at the resort today?” Liam asked as he refilled Brock’s juice.

Brock shoveled in another hefty bite and shook his head. “Not until two. I have to help clean the rooms when the guests leave.”

“You want more bacon?”

“Nah,” he said around the pancakes. “I’m getting full.”

Liam turned to clean up as he hid his smile. Brock had inhaled five pancakes and seven pieces of bacon. Obviously he was in a growth spurt, or at least that’s what Sophie always said. He and Brock had bonded from the start, but it still wasn’t like him to just show up for no reason, let alone on a Sunday morning.

Liam worked on cleaning the kitchen while Brock finished. Once he was done, Liam put the dishes in the dishwasher and started it up. Turning back to the island, Liam rested his palms on the granite and leaned forward.

“Ready to tell me what’s wrong?”

Brock attempted a smile, but shook his head. “I don’t know, man. Being a teenager sucks.”

Liam laughed. “It only seems that way now. Trust me, being an adult sometimes sucks more.”

Brock leaned back in the bar stool and crossed his arms. “Well, at least you can afford a nice car.”

So that’s the issue. “That’s because I work my ass off to have nice things.”

“You live in an apartment over a hardware store,” Brock stated dryly.

“For now. In Savannah I had a killer condo right next to a park. My condo had a balcony off the master bedroom. I have a nice amount of savings and, yeah, I have a nice car. When you want something, you have to work for it. Nothing is just handed to you.”

“I don’t want things handed to me,” he mumbled. “But I want a nice truck. Like Braxton’s. Well . . . like the one he had before it was smashed.”

Liam leaned down on his forearms and considered his words. Teenagers were touchy creatures, but he felt he could be completely honest with Brock.

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