Of course Liam would remember the personal tidbits she’d shared over dinner dates with him. How ironic that Jeff Scott, the man Andi chose over Liam, never took that second-career dream seriously, but Liam remembered how important it was to her.
“I’m taking baby steps toward that now,” she confided. “Teaching an adult-ed class this summer at Vestal Valley College.”
“Wow.” He drew back and looked impressed. “Professor Rivers. Like your dad, huh?”
And he remembered that, too. Her heart hitched that she’d meant so much to him that he bothered to retain all those little facts.
“Not exactly,” she assured him. “He’s teaching urbanism and foundational computation to MIT graduate students, and I’m leading discussions on European architecture to some retirees and a few lost fortysomethings having midlife crises and taking college courses.”
“Still,” he said. “It’s a step toward what you always wanted to do, and I respect that.”
She sighed softly, appreciating his respect, but knowing that wasn’t why she’d jumped on the opportunity to be alone with him. Not tonight. Tonight she wanted…
Him.
“Look how pretty it is here,” she said, gesturing toward the parklike square lit by gas lamps and hundreds of twinkling white lights in the trees.
“This town sure likes to string lights in Bushrod Square,” he said.
“It’s probably what ol’ Thaddeus Bushrod imagined when he founded Bitter Bark and named it after a tree that’s really a hickory tree.” She gestured toward the bronze statue of the man whose name graced the square, standing next to the landmark tree that rose at least thirty feet in the air, the spot somehow beloved and sacred to all the residents of Bitter Bark. “I’m on the tourism committee, and Chloe informed us of that fact in her first presentation.”
“Sounds like town heresy.”
She laughed, watching a few people stroll through the square, several getting in their evening dog walks and a runner or two. Bushrod Square always felt safe, and never more than when she was with a man as big and protective as Liam.
Walking next to him, she wanted to slide both her hands around his arm for the sheer pleasure of hugging that solid bicep and feeling the warmth of his body. Just the thought of it tightened everything in her that was already pretty darn tight.
“So, how’s your little guy doing?” he asked.
She smiled, of course, at the mention of Christian. “He’s good. So, so good.”
“He’s, um, over the tough stuff?”
“Pretty much,” she said, recalling that when Liam had visited her a month or so after Jeff’s death, she’d shared some of the sleep and social problems Christian had because his father had been gone, come back, then disappeared forever. “He’s a quiet kid, so it’s hard to figure out his feelings.” She glanced up at Liam, who was also quiet and challenging to discern.
“And how about you?” he asked, the question tentative enough for her to know he was inching into personal territory with great care. “Over the tough stuff?”
She didn’t answer for a few seconds, long enough to decide he deserved honesty. “I survived,” she finally said. “Maybe a little too easily.”
He slowed his step, looking down at her, his expression a mix of surprise and something else she couldn’t quite read. Confusion? Hope? Admiration? “You’re stronger than you realize,” he said.
“I was also not as in love with Jeff as I, well, as I would have liked.”
He choked softly, but didn’t say anything. Considering all he could say at that, it was a true point in his favor.
“Is that an awful thing to admit?” she asked, hoping the conversation didn’t veer off into a discussion about how much Jeff had changed after he returned to her life. It would only make her feel worse about what she’d done to Liam.
“No,” he said.
“Even though he cost us, well, us?”
He swallowed visibly, taking a moment to collect what he was going to say, making her get a tiny bit closer, because experience had taught her that when Liam said something from the heart, it was right and real and worth listening to.
“You didn’t make that decision because of us, Andi. You made it for Christian.”
She stopped completely, looking up at him, the little white lights on that tree in the center of the square blurring in her eyes for a second. “I did, and it’s very sweet of you to remind me. Very sweet of you to talk to me at all.”
“Sweet isn’t something I’m accused of too often,” he said, a smile taking his strong-boned face from handsome to heart-stopping. “You know I only wanted you to be happy.”
“I know.” And she knew he’d been disappointed when she broke off their budding relationship to give Jeff a real chance. Liam being Liam, however, she had no idea the extent of that disappointment, or if he harbored resentment toward her. “I know I hurt you.”
“But you were really nice about it,” he said, turning to face her.
She sighed at the way he said it, placing a hand on his shoulder for the pleasure of feeling how strong it was.
Somewhere across the square, a dog barked. A dove hooted. Conversations from other people drifted by like the scent of jasmine on warm summer air. But Andi didn’t hear much beyond the steady pulse in her head. Heat and need thrummed from those veins down, down, down to the center of her, everything warm just from looking at him.
She closed her eyes and pressed a little harder, loving the breadth and muscularity of his shoulder.
As if it were the most natural move, he put his hand on her waist, inching her closer. “Didn’t make it hurt any less, but you were nice.”
Exhaling, she dropped her head back a little bit, her eyes shuttering.
Just one kiss. One.
“It’s good to talk to you, Liam,” she whispered. “To…” Very slowly, she put her free hand on his other shoulder, dragging her palms down a bit, each move like a choreographed dance getting them closer and closer. “It’s good to be with you again.”
She let her fingers hold the thick cords of his biceps, thumbing under the sleeve of his T-shirt that just about covered a tattoo of a bulldog and two German words.
Teufel Hunden.
Devil Dog. It popped into her head along with a memory of a night she’d run her fingers over that tattoo and Liam had told her Marines had the nickname because they were so fierce that they were considered dogs from hell. And as a military dog training specialist, the image and nickname meant even more to him.
She also remembered that she’d almost slept with him that night as things had grown from heated to desperate on her living room sofa, but since she had a toddler who’d wake up at sunrise and expect his mommy to be sleeping alone, Liam had been far too considerate and controlled. Without spelling it out, they’d both silently agreed they’d find a better time and place…but Jeff Scott had shown up at her front door a few days later asking for a second chance, and Andi had been forced to make a sudden and difficult decision.
“It’s so good to hold you again,” she said, tipping her head back so there could be zero doubt what she wanted.
“Andi…” He barely whispered her name as he closed the space between them and kissed her.
She felt the heat of his mouth just before it touched her lips, tentative at first, then with a little more demand. She melted into the kiss. Parting her lips to breathe him in, she slid her hands up and over the breadth of his shoulders, squeezing the hard and masculine muscles, already imagining how his skin would feel against hers.
It had been so long. So long. So lonely.
He tasted delicious, like a tangy beer and sweet, hot man. Like the Liam she remembered and had long ago told herself to forget.
Large, hot hands coasted over her back, lingering every few inches as if he wanted to appreciate each new place he touched.
“Liam…” She broke the kiss but not the full-body contact, leaning against him for the rush of his hard chest against
her sensitive, aching nipples. His heart was beating like hers, pounding with the same kind of need. And lower, more need was evident as she felt the pressure of a man seconds away from full arousal.
He trailed some kisses down the jaw she offered, while she inhaled the musky, sexy scent of him, an aroma that made her anxious and desperate for more.
No. One kiss was not going to be enough. Not for a woman who had spent way too many nights utterly and completely alone and empty. She didn’t want to be alone tonight. She didn’t want to be empty.
She wanted Liam in her bed and in her body, and she’d wanted it the minute she walked up to the table and saw him. She attempted a ragged inhale and kissed him again, with even more intent and a clear message of desire. Finally, she loosened her grip and inched away. His eyes were black with the same arousal that rocked her.
“I knew this would happen,” she murmured.
He looked stunned by that. “Was that why you let me walk you home?” He eased farther back. “Because I’m pretty surprised by it all.”
“Mmm.” She gnawed on her lower lip, hard enough to hurt.
“Hey.” With one finger, he gently eased that lip from under her tooth. “Use that lip for better things.”
That made her smile, a nervous, shaky smile, as she searched his face. Was he going to make her ask him to come home with her?
During their few weeks together, Liam and Andi’s kisses had hummed with an undercurrent of electricity, but he was patient, easing her closer every time they were together, a man one hundred percent comfortable with taking his time.
Of course, he hadn’t known time would be cut short.
But that was then, and this is now. Liam might be patient, but Andi wasn’t. She dug around for a way to invite him home without sounding like the sex-starved, celibate-for-too-long, single woman she was.
“Christian’s asleep,” she finally said, and from the look on his face, she was certain he knew exactly what she meant. And she could have picked a leaf off the ground and knocked him over with it.
She laughed a little. “I know it never happened before, Liam, but it was about to.”
Until her ex-boyfriend showed up and wanted to be a full-time daddy. And then she’d made her choice, and it hadn’t been Liam.
“I haven’t said more than ten words to you in two years,” he said.
She gave a teasing smile. “Hey, that’s a big conversation for you.”
He choked softly, as if he really couldn’t believe this was happening. “Look, Andi…”
Oh God. That didn’t sound like, Hell yeah, let’s go.
“Have you thought this through?” he asked.
She didn’t want to think tonight. She ran her fingers over the nape of his neck, slowly, knowing she owed him some kind of rationale besides I want you. Except, that was the truth.
“When I saw you tonight, I thought…well, yeah. When I saw you tonight, I started thinking it through pretty hard.”
He stared at her, silent.
Really? Didn’t people just hook up nowadays? Yes, she had a six-year-old who’d taken her off the market, but she shouldn’t have to persuade him to have sex with her, should she?
“I trust you, Liam. I know you. I’ve…” She wet her lips. “I’m not with anyone, ever. I’m celibate, is what I’m saying. And when I saw you, it hit me so hard how much I want to…change that. Tonight. With you. Don’t you?”
“Pretty sure how I feel about it is five minutes from obvious.”
“Then let’s try this again.” She gave a meaningful look. “Christian’s asleep.”
“Then what?”
Now she choked an uncomfortable laugh, echoing his. “Then…” He wanted her to spell it out? “He’s a good sleeper. You could stay…for a little bit.”
“A little bit?” The question came out rough. “How about the night? Another month? Longer?”
Exactly the very reason she was the lonely sex-starved celibate woman. “No, Liam. No.” She shook her head. “I can’t do that. I won’t do that. I will never do that again.”
“Like actually date someone and have a relationship?”
“No,” she said, drawing back to make her single-word statement stick. “I can’t ever take that chance again. Christian struggled when Jeff left.”
He had nightmares, and tears, and so many questions. She’d never do that again.
“Jeff died.”
“I know, but…” Would Liam even be standing here if Jeff’s car hadn’t gone off an icy mountain road? She couldn’t be sure. She might have stuck it out with Jeff for Christian’s sake. But what difference did that make? He was gone and Andi was alone. So alone.
“So this is different,” he said. “We have another chance.”
She shook her head again. “Things don’t always work out. They usually don’t work out. Heck, they almost never work out. One minute, you have a plan, and the next, wham, life throws you a curve ball. Nothing is certain in this life, Liam. And I have learned the hard way to protect myself—and my son—from that reality.”
“So that would keep you from taking a chance on…” He swallowed, and for a moment, she actually thought he was going to say love. “Happiness?”
“I can’t risk that instability in my son’s life again, Liam. Especially now. He’s six, and while he was always a quiet kid, he really retreated into a shell of painful shyness after Jeff died. I vowed I’ll never bring a man into my life while he’s growing up.”
“But you’d have sex with one while he’s asleep?”
She felt the blood drain from her face. “Ouch.”
“I don’t say that to hurt you, Andi. You can do what you want, you’re a grown woman, and I…get it. But I…” He took a slight step back, not even an inch. But it felt like a football field of space between them. “I’m not going to be that guy for you.”
She looked up, certain she looked as stricken as she felt. “I guess I deserve this after what—”
“No.” He cut her off. “I’m not punishing you. That’s not what’s going on here.”
“Then what is, other than my failed seduction?”
“Look,” he said on a rough exhale. “Maybe I am the lug nut Shane says I am, because I should probably be dragging you home by way of the nearest drugstore right this minute. Or maybe I’m a few months shy of forty and I know there’s more to this than sex. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to have sex with you since the day I saw you at Waterford, but not…like this. Not a hookup after seeing you at a local bar.”
She winced, knowing he didn’t mean to make her feel bad about the offer, but she did anyway. Bad, rejected, and a little embarrassed she’d asked.
“This is all I can offer you,” she said softly. “I will not open my heart or my life up for any man but the one I’m raising.”
“Well, I want more from you,” he said simply. Of course, Liam was never one for fancy words or declarations or verbal sparring. He said what he thought and meant what he said.
And as much as she appreciated what he was saying, more was never going to happen.
“I won’t settle for a few hours with you while Christian’s asleep,” he said. “I deserve more than that, and so do you.”
She eased away from him completely, wrapping herself in her own arms now. “Wow. I honestly forgot men like you existed.”
“Idiots? We’re all over the place. We just keep a low profile.”
She tried to smile, remembering how much she liked his self-deprecating humor. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Just go out with me. Have dinner with me. Come to Waterford, bring your son, and let’s pick up where we left off.”
Oh. She stared at him for a long, long time. With each heartbeat, she knew what she had to do. Who she had to protect from hurt. Not her, not Liam. But the boy who owned her heart and soul.
“I can’t do that, Liam. I won’t do that. I’ve made this decision, and I’m not changing my mind.”
He blew out a breath. ??
?All right.”
“My house is right there,” she said, pointing to the three-story brownstone on the corner.
“I know where your house is.”
“Then you can watch me to make sure I get in okay. I know you will anyway.” She blinked, and her eyes misted over again. “Goodbye, Liam.”
He just looked at her, silent. Liam would never say a word unless it was the right one. And this minute, there was nothing left to say.
She turned and crossed the street, heading into her home still knowing that nothing in life was ever certain…except the fact that she’d be sleeping alone tonight.
Chapter Two
Present Day
“Is this something I can install myself?”
The clerk took the keypad electronic dead bolt and turned it over, reading the package as if Andi hadn’t already done that three times. “With some tools. You got a spade bit to drill a hole in the side of your door?”
She was an architect, not a contractor. She had pencils and drafting triangles, even a toolbox? What she needed was the phone number of a handyman.
Next to her, Christian dragged his finger along of row of unmade keys, making them all jingle. And two keys clanged to the linoleum floor of Bitter Bark Hardware. Well, Better Bark Hardware, now that the town had voted to change its name for one year.
Already, the effects of the tourism campaign could be felt. A few businesses had hired Andi’s architectural firm to draw up plans for updates or new locations. And, thanks to the genius idea of Andi’s good friend Chloe Somerset, there were more and more dogs showing up—with their owners—as the tourism committee and business owners worked together to make “Better Bark” famous as the most dog-friendly town in the country.
But more people in Bitter Bark meant more crime, too. Which was what brought this single mom to a hardware store instead of a toy store on a Saturday afternoon.
“I can figure out how to install it,” she said as she bent down to scoop up the keys and put a hand on her son’s shoulder to draw him closer.
“’Cause we sell the bits,” the clerk said. “Right in aisle six.”