Page 86 of Lost in You (The Monroes 3)

Before she knew what his intentions were, he reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist. The force had her bent over backward, with his torso resting on hers. That mouth was mere inches away. The devil himself wasn’t this tempting.

“I’m not leaving right after the wedding,” he murmured. “I still have a while before I go. So don’t think I won’t touch you or kiss you every chance I get.”

When his lips slammed down onto hers, Macy shoved him back. “You can try, but you’ll fail.”

Liam let her go and she stumbled before she caught herself on the accent chair.

“We’ll see,” he told her, throwing her a glance over his shoulder. “My need for you isn’t over, Macy.”

“Does it matter what I want?” she tossed back.

“Oh, I know what you want. We both know where this is ending.”

How could he be so casual about this now? After all she’d told him, after all they’d been through. “It’s already ended, Liam.”

He stared another second before letting himself out. She knew if she’d just crooked her finger they’d end up in bed.

Bed. Just where he’d taught her to overcome her fears. Where he’d shown her what she thought was love.

She’d been so wrong. Opening her heart had been a risk, one she couldn’t take back. Honestly, she wouldn’t take back their time together even if she could. No matter the heartache she had now, Liam had shown her that she was even stronger than she’d ev

er thought. She would get over him, too.

Okay, so the words were easy to say, but the execution of actually moving on was going to be a bit harder. He was still here, and she’d still see him every day until he finally left. So knowing the end was coming, yet being near him, was only adding salt to the wound.

She needed to be ready to face Liam again tomorrow. And the real kicker was now they were going to be working together on a wedding cake.

Yeah, fate sure did have a nice way of smacking you in the face.

Chapter Nineteen

Liam pulled the fresh yeast rolls from the oven. Pairing his specialty rolls with a potpie was exactly what this group of elderly ladies had requested on their form when they’d made reservations. They wanted good ol’ Southern cooking, specifically potpies or fried potatoes and smoked sausage. Liam preferred getting a little creative with his potpies by making his own crusts.

There were days he could really branch out and try new recipes, then there were times like this where he had to stick with a boring and unimaginative menu.

But he would do his best because that was his job, that was what he was raised to do. Plus, he refused to let himself slack off even for a second. This was Chelsea’s dream; her entire life savings had gone into buying this place.

But it was damn hard doing this with one good hand. Thankfully he’d had dough made up in advance. Any seasoned chef had multiple backups and premade options. You never knew when things would go to shit in a moment’s notice.

“Need help?” Sophie swept through the kitchen, her gait a little more normal today.

“Have a seat.” He gestured toward the bar stools. “I’ve got it so far. Are all the drinks and appetizers set up?”

Sophie gripped the back of the stool and nodded. “I even took the salads out and the dressings are already on the tables. The ladies are still cooing over your amazing lunch with fried chicken.”

Liam slid the rolls into a decorative bowl. “You can take these out and the potpies will be up next.”

Sophie pulled the bowl from the counter. When she took a step, she hissed. Liam crossed to her, grabbing the rolls. “Sit down, you’re hurting.”

“No, it’s fine. I just had a showing earlier and there were so many stairs. It’s actually easing up.”

He stared at her as she sank to the stool. “How much longer are you going to keep working?” he asked. “The resort is a full-time job in itself.”

Letting out a sigh, she sent him a smile. “You sound like Zach. I know I need to sell my business. It’s just hard to let go of something you love.”

And this was going to dive into a territory he didn’t want to get into. He wasn’t ready to let his dream go. Sophie’s circumstances were different. She had an old injury that held her back, or hindered her ability to keep up. But she was determined to do it all.

“I’ll take these out.”

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