Page 66 of Lost in You (The Monroes 3)

“I thought we were cooking,” she murmured, trying not to get lost in those mesmerizing eyes of his, and failing.

His lips feathered softly over her cheek. “Oh, we’re cooking.”

Firm hands slid up her sides, lifting her dress. His fingertips dug into her hips as he tugged her closer. Macy closed her eyes, fully giving herself up to anything he wanted to do. Control was still hers to own, but she’d give him this moment . . . and maybe she was giving it to herself as well.

“You’ll be in my bed, Macy,” he murmured against her ear. “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But you’ll be there.”

She stiffened against the warning. Macy wasn’t afraid of him, more like she was afraid of all the feelings he conjured up inside her. What if she let him take her to bed? What then? She’d flip out and be even more humiliated than she was now.

“I can’t,” she whispered. “I’ll do anything else. Don’t ask that of me.”

Liam rested his forehead against hers. “I’m not asking, Macy. I’m telling you I’m going to be the man to get you past this.”

She started to say something, but in a swift move his hands left her hips and framed her face. He forced her gaze up to his.

“Me,” he reiterated. “No one else, because you will get beyond this fear.”

Tears pricked her eyes. She wanted to give in so much. She wanted him to be the one to take away her demons, but...

“I don’t want this burden on you.”

He nipped at her lips. “And I won’t let you carry it around any longer.”

Macy trembled at his intense tone. He was serious about helping her, about getting her to overcome her fear. How could she not fall head first into love? How could she not want to let him do this? She never thought she’d ever find a man that she’d consider going that next step with. But Liam showed up, and after she’d pushed and pushed, he came back at her and forced her to take a look at herself.

Damn it, that wasn’t at all what she’d had in mind when she’d tried getting closer to him. She never once thought he’d pull these emotions out of her.

When Liam’s lips slid across hers, Macy reached to the side and gripped the edge of the countertop. Before she could fully melt at this man’s words, his seductive touches, he eased back.

“Now, let’s get to work, because I have so much to teach you before the party.”

He turned away and started bustling about the kitchen as if he just hadn’t turned her completely on, then laid down a promise that had her so anxious and terrified at the same time. How did he do that?

Macy shoved away from the counter and spotted the one and only cookbook propped against the side of the refrigerator. The fact he kept that book through the foster home hell and all the time with the Monroes really spoke volumes as to how much this man valued family, valued that personal bond. He might want to come across as not needing people, but that was a mask he wore . . . and wore quite well.

She was about to rip it off and thrust the mirror in his face for a change, because as much as she needed healing, and she couldn’t deny she did, Liam needed it just as much.

Carefully, Macy picked up the cookbook. “What was your mom’s favorite recipe?”

Liam had just closed the refrigerator when he saw what she was holding. Eggs in hand, he stared at her, and Macy wondered if she’d gone too far, but she didn’t think so.

“Is it my turn to talk?” he asked, setting the eggs on the island.

“Only if you want to. I’m only asking about your mom. Anything beyond that is your call.”

Liam let out a deep sigh and nodded. “You’re going to be sorry you asked.”

“I doubt it.”

Macy sat the book on the counter. She wanted him to have that visual reminder of the better times. His mom was such a huge part of the man he was today. She literally shaped him and he’d carried that with him even during the worst possible moments. Macy obviously had never met the woman, but no doubt his mother would’ve been proud of the man he turned into.

“She liked dumplings,” Liam told her. A smile flirted around his lips. “She made dumplings all the time. That was one thing that took me forever to master. I actually didn’t get them down until I was out of school. After she passed, I didn’t get the opportunity to cook at my foster family’s house. I either avoided going home, or I locked myself in my room.”

To protect himself.

“Once I came to live with the Monroes, and I felt safe, I started again. Actually, Chelsea and I would experiment in the kitchen. She would sample as I’d cook.”

The wistfulness in his tone as he spoke of his mother and Chelsea clenched Macy’s heart. No wonder he kept that shield of protection around himself—he’d lost every woman who mattered to him.

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