Page 9 of Lost in You (The Monroes 3)

He started to move, but Macy stepped in his path. “Tell me what you meant by ‘out too late.’ I wasn’t out last night at all.”

“Phil looked exhausted when I saw him. I thought he turned this place over to you.”

Her dad looked tired? She hadn’t seen him and he’d never tell her if he needed help. Stubborn man. She’d talk to him about that, but for now she had other matters to deal with. Namely the half-naked man who clearly had a bad impression of her.

And the migraine she’d nursed all day was threatening to rear its ugly head once more. The twinge behind her eyes was always the first sign this was no regular headache.

“He did turn this over to me,” she defended, suddenly angry. “And you’re right, this isn’t your concern. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to my office to finish the invoices I wanted in the mail earlier this afternoon.”

Macy knew her blood pressure was rising. She jerked around Liam and headed to her office. Stupid to get this worked up over a man who’d only been back for such a short time. She’d never cared what people thought before, but Liam was different. There was a pull toward him that she couldn’t deny, and the fact he fought it, too, was only more frustrating.

She clicked on the small antique lamp and braced her palms flat on her desk. From the corner of her eye she spotted Liam as he filled the doorway. Sexy and intriguing as he was, she just wasn’t in the mood for an argument. She’d barely recovered from her earlier migraine and all she wanted to do was get back home and crawl in bed. She’d thought once the last one passed that she was relatively safe to get some work done. Clearly she’d been wrong.

“Do you need help?”

Macy glanced over her shoulder, intent on meeting his eyes and not all of those displayed muscles. “Is that your way of apologizing?”

“I was out of line.”

He lifted his arms and held on to the door frame above his head. Oh, no. Now he was playing dirty with taut muscles that flexed and rendered her stupid and mute.

Macy looked back down to the stack of papers on her desk and sighed. It would be best if he went back upstairs and left her alone. The way he kept tilting his head out of habit, as if to shield his scar, the way he almost seemed to want to know more about her, yet pushed her away at the same time . . . it was all getting to her. She didn’t know what to do with all these mixed up emotions, and in the middle of the night, when they were completely alone together, was the last place and time to try to figure things out.

Liam wasn’t trying to purposely play games. The man just held so much sex appeal, she couldn’t fault him for the power he held over her. He had no clue and this was her problem. A problem she was having a hard time dealing with, considering her migraine was starting to turn her stomach. Stupid nausea.

“I’ve got it,” she replied, rubbing her temple. “Don’t let me keep you.”

Bare feet shuffled across the old checkered linoleum floor. He’d truly run down the stairs half naked, sans shoes, to take on an intruder. Said quite a bit about a man’s integrity.

“You look ready to fall over.” He stood right next to her, the warmth from his body enveloping her. “Go on home, Macy. These invoices can go out tomorrow after you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

Macy turned, but the defensive words died the moment she looked at him. The lamp from the desk shined directly onto his scarred cheek. The angry red pucker did nothing to deter from his appeal and she wanted to get closer, wanted to know the man who kept himself so closed off.

Without fully thinking, she reached up. In a flash, Liam’s hand gripped her wrist, stopping her approach. Why did he have to put up a wall every single time she attempted to get close? Did everything have to be a battle?

The intensity of his glare should’ve had her backing down,

but she wasn’t one to shy away from conflict. Liam was too strong, too stubborn, to let insecurities run his life.

“Don’t let this have all the power.”

He kept his tight hold on her. “You know nothing about me. Leave it.”

Macy stepped in closer, narrowing the gap between them and ignoring his hurtful words spoken out of pain and anger. “I know you won’t let people in and you keep to yourself.”

“You know the man I used to be. I’ve changed.”

Liam dropped her hand, but shifted forward to loom over her. It took a mighty large man to make her feel small, but Liam did just that. It wasn’t just his height—it was the dark gaze, the clenched jaw, firm shoulders. He was indeed the entire package of brooding man . . . and yet his vulnerability rolled off him in waves. Did others notice? Did they even try to see how damaged he still was?

Macy swallowed. He wasn’t saying a word, wasn’t touching her, but they were no more than an inch apart. His warm breath tickled her face, his eyes held hers, and the headache that threatened to return wasn’t even a priority now.

“Are you going to tell me how I can’t possibly know you since you’ve only been back a few months?” she finally asked when the silence became too much.

“No. I’m going to ask how you recognize someone who’s hurting.” His eyes traveled over her face, to her mouth, then back up to her eyes. “Who hurt you, Macy?”

For a split second, she wanted to tell him. How freeing it would be to finally get the demon out of her, but she couldn’t. The harsh reality was he would look at her differently, and that was a risk she refused to take.

“Don’t turn this around on me.”

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