Page 8 of Lost in You (The Monroes 3)

So what if she wasn’t married? She didn’t need a man in her life.

Macy might date, quite a bit, but that was all for show, for herself really. To prove she had control, to prove to her eighteen-year-old self that she didn’t have to be bullied around by a guy and his friends who wouldn’t take no for an answer.

She hadn’t found a man yet who fit the bill for someone she wanted to commit to, but that didn’t mean she was giving up. She’d seen the love between Zach and Sophie, Braxton and Cora. She’d seen the love between her own parents before her mother passed away. Macy wanted that. Even with all she’d been through, she still held out hope that there was a nice guy somewhere, that she could get her own happy ending with a man who loved her.

As she rounded the corner to her office and reached to flick on the light, a strong hold circled around her shoulders, way too close to her neck. A scream tore from her as she jerked in an attempt to get away. She’d been held against her will once; instant flashes of that night consumed her. Never again would she be a victim of anything.

She screamed louder, fought harder. She kicked, clawed, and arched back in an attempt to break free. Fear gripped her tighter than the strong arms.

“Macy, it’s me.”

Liam’s low, firm tone in her ear calmed her instantly. Her heart beat in a frantic rhythm as she closed her eyes and willed her breathing to regain some sort of normalcy. She was safe. This was nothing like what she’d endured. Nobody would hurt her here. Nobody would ever hurt her again.

“Liam,” she whispered, cursing herself for shaking. She needed to get control over the trembling before he noticed. “What are you doing?”

He remained behind her, his arms wrapped around her midsection, her back against his rock hard chest. “I heard something and came down to catch the intruder.”

With unsteady hands, Macy shoved her hair away from her face. Random strands clung to her mouth, making her realize how much she’d struggled. Her weak knees barely held her in an upright position.

“I’m not an intruder and I was quiet. How did you hear anything?”

“I wasn’t asleep.”

He also hadn’t let go, which would explain why her heart continued to thump an unsteady rhythm in her chest. She’d known he was big; she just hadn’t been this close to him to realize how powerful he was. Power had once instilled a crushing panic in her. . . . She refused to ever be that woman again.

“You can let go,” she muttered, not because she feared him, but because she might want to lean into him. If she was ever going to fully move past that night, she needed to do it on her own.

His arms remained around her. “Are you okay? You’re trembling.”

“I—I’m fine.” She wasn’t about to explain the nightmare that continued to haunt her. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be guarding the store.”

Slowly, he pulled away from her body and Macy instantly felt the chill. Strong arms used to terrify her, still did actually, but the strength Liam possessed was controlled, caring. Until now she didn’t know such a power could be combined with gentleness. Tears pricked her eyes. She didn’t want to feel vulnerable, but damn it, she had no choice here. Liam pulled emotions from her that she’d just as soon leave buried.

When Macy turned, the glow from the security beams behind him cast a light around his broad shoulders. His very bare shoulders, which led to his very bare chest and ink she couldn’t quite make out over his left pec and up over his shoulder, spreading down over his bicep. Mercy, the man was sculpted better than she’d ever envisioned—and she’d done plenty of envisioning.

That tanned skin wrapped over taut muscle didn’t come from kneading dough or frosting a cake. His broad frame tapered into lean hips and had Macy pulling herself together to form a coherent thought. Whatever he had going on with that punching bag he mentioned was doing some glorious things to his physique.

She couldn’t see his facial expression very well, but he was close. Too close. Or maybe not close enough.

Macy had been known around town for her dating, and some people presumed she was promiscuous. That was their business. She couldn’t change what people said or thought of her and she wasn’t going to spend her time trying. Yes, she’d purposely dated quite a bit, mostly to prove to herself that she was in charge.

But she wouldn’t lie. She felt a pull toward Liam that unnerved her. In his presence there was always a rush of emotions she didn’t know how to handle. Sometimes she wanted to throw caution to the wind and make a move with Liam, but then that worry of rejection nipped at her mind. She’d never cared or worried about rejection before, so why was she letting this man matter so much? He’d been back only a few months and each day that passed had her more revved up than the day before.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, propping his hands on his hips.

He needed more clothes. Something to cover up all that scenery, because she was having a difficult time recalling exactly why she was in the store in the first place. And her damn head was starting to pound.

Invoices. Right. The things she needed to get to customers so she could get paid and keep her business up and running. Moments ago she’d been dead set to get some work done, but suddenly invoices were the last thing on her mind.

What would he do if she actually reached for him, ran her hand along those hard muscles? Maybe if she leaned forward to just briefly touch her lips to his. Would the controlled, quiet Liam snap or push her away like he had a few months ago? They’d yet to talk about that moment. How long would he pretend he didn’t want to kiss her? How long would she let him pretend?

“I had some work to do,” she replied.

“Out too late last night to come in today?”

Confusion had her jerking back. “Excuse me.”

Liam shook his head. “Nothing. None of my business.”

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