Page 25 of Taming Liberty

When my house comes into view, I squint at the light making the living room windows glow.

Is she awake?

No. She probably forgot to turn out the light before going to bed.

I exhale a long breath as I step onto my front porch. As miserable as this last week has been, I’m glad to be home. Once I’m well rested, I may even be glad to be homewith Lib.

I open the door and step into the quiet house, lowering my bag to the floor. I kick off my shoes, remove my jacket, then toss it onto the foyer table.

I head for the stairs, pausing when I see Lib on the couch, her arm dangling off the side. Her eyes are closed, and her lips are parted slightly. Her chest moves with each breath.

I stare, unblinking, and it takes me a minute to realize I need to breathe.

I’ve seen her sleep only once, the night she officially became mine, but this is different. I can’t see inside her mind, but I can see there aren’t any nightmares causing her distress this time. She looks peaceful. Like the world isn’t so bad.

I wonder if this is how she looked before she came here.

I walk to stand over her and get the strong urge to plant my lips to hers. It’s the same urge I had the first time we met.

I reach my hand toward her and smooth a lock of hair out of her face. She stirs but doesn’t wake.

Five minutes ago, I didn’t want her here. I didn’t want to fight with her, and I questioned whether this was worth it. Now, seeing her, I’d kill anyone who tried to take her away.

“Goodnight, beautiful,” I whisper, brushing my fingertips over her shoulder.

I turn and head to my room, climbing the stairs as quietly as I can so I don’t wake her up.

Sun streamsin through the window when I open my eyes, so I squeeze them shut, flipping onto my back and draping an arm over my face. I lift my knees and rock them back and forth while I lay in bed and convince myself to get up.

You know that feeling when you wake up, and your body somehow knows you’ve overslept? Maybe there’s too much sun coming in through the windows or you miss the morning birds or your body just seems to know what your conscious mind misses?

That’s how I feel right now. Without checking the time on my phone, I know it’s late. I know there’s a feisty woman downstairs right now who will be fuming and ready for a fight as soon as she she’s me, and there are emails I needed to reply to hours ago. Work to be done, tigress to be tamed… It’s going to be a day.

Welcome home.

I pull my arm off my face and reluctantly lean over to grab my phone off the nightstand

and check the time.

One in the afternoon.

“Fuck,” I groan, tossing my phone down and sitting up. I swing my legs off the bed and scrub my hands over my face.

I get up and pull on a pair of athletic shorts. I desperately need a shower, but I need coffee even more, which means I’d better think about what I’m going to say to Lib. Maybe I’ll get off easy, and she’ll give me the cold shoulder instead of ripping into me right away. I’m not hopeful.

Words move through my head while I brush my teeth, but by the time I’m finished all I’ve got picked out is a bland apology.

I’ll come up with something in the moment.

I open my bedroom door and am almost surprised when I don’t see her waiting on the other side, hand on her hip and face beat red.

I make my way down the stairs, eyeing the empty couch and the neatly folded throw blanket draped over the back of it.

“Lib?” I call out, turning the corner for the kitchen.

The coffee maker is my destination, but I pause when I see the sliding door to the patio open. I walk to the door and see Lib in a lounge chair, her feet propped on the fire table and sunglasses low on her nose as she stares down at a book.

Her head raises and she yanks her feet off the table when she sees me. “Angel,” she says excitedly, tossing her book on the table and shooting up from the chair.

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