Chapter 16
Liam was drunk. He knew that, but he kept slugging back beers.
In his altered state, he was again debating which was better: orgasms or beer. They were definite pros and cons to each.
For instance, a good beer buzz could last hours, while an orgasm was over fairly quickly. However, the buildup or foreplay to an orgasm could last hours as well. So maybe the time element of the argument was negated. Who knew?
However, an orgasm involved a woman or at least some fantasies of a woman. Well, at least for him it did. But a beer buzz didn’t require anything at all except beer. But usually during a beer buzz, fantasies of women drifted through his brain. Actually, he had gotten laid more than a few times with a beer buzz. So maybe one wasn’t necessarily better than the other. Maybe they sort of went hand-in-hand. He sighed, realizing he was giving himself a headache with all this debate on orgasms and beer, and tipped back his can.
He was sprawled out on the couch watching ESPN, very aware that Adela sat in the chair to the left of him. She had gotten through one beer and was timidly sipping on the next.
“I’ve never had alcohol,” Adela said. Liam didn’t know if she was talking to him or just making an observation to herself.
“Well, go easy, Sheila . . . crap . . . I mean, Adela. Go easy. And don’t fucking stab me. It was a slip of the tongue.”
“My head feels very light and my limbs feel weak.”
“Beer buzz, love.”
Images of Adela in her little purple silk number danced through his head, and he wondered if he should put the moves on her.
He shook his head. Absolutely not, and for a number of reasons. First, he was ninety-nine-point-nine percent certain she was a virgin. She died during the Puritan age. Second, he didn’t like virgins. Yeah, he knew that it was contrary to every man’s fantasy, but he liked a woman with experience. Virgins equaled a “big no” for him.
There were a few other reasons, but he couldn’t remember them at that moment.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” she said, standing.
Oh hell. He didn’t do well with this stuff either. “Get your ass to the bathroom,” he yelled. “Puke in the toilet!”
Adela lurched forward and gripped the armrest of the couch, her head right above his. He sat up just as there was a knock on the door.
He stared at Adela, who let out a soft burp. She giggled and smiled, covering her mouth. Her eyes were glassy, but she definitely didn’t look like she was going to be sick. She looked more like one of those silly drunk chicks he ran into in college.
“I guess I was wrong,” she said, turning toward the door.
“Let me get that,” Liam said, standing. They met at the door, shoulder to shoulder.
“This could be her,” Adela whispered.
Liam nodded. “Or him.”
“Open it.”
“Right.”
Liam opened the door, surprised to see a cop on the other side. The man was in his thirties with a blond buzz cut, his blue uniform snug around his bulky shoulders. He stood just under six feet, and it was obvious he worked out with weights. A lot. Liam suddenly felt very, very sober.
“Can we help you, officer?” Liam asked, wondering what would happen if they went to jail. For what, he didn’t know, but would the powers-that-be in Heaven bail them out?
“I just wanted to make sure everything was okay in here,” the cop answered. “I heard yelling on the way to my apartment and thought I’d stop by.”
Liam nodded and studied the man. He was about to write off the guy, but then met his steel-gray eyes. They were flat. The guy was in pain.
Liam elbowed Adela, who was leaning up against him. “No, everything’s cool, officer, I was just yelling at ESPN. But why don’t you come in?”
The cop shook his head. “No, I’m just ending my shift. Time for me to get to bed.”
“No, please come in,” Adela protested, laying her hand on his arm. “We’re new to the building and would love to meet our neighbors.”
The door across the hall opened and a small, curvy, pretty woman with curly blonde hair poked her head out. “Jeff? Is everything okay?”
He turned and smiled. “Yeah, it’s fine, Missy. Just our new neighbor yelling at ESPN.”
Missy stepped out, shut her door, and ran her hand through her blonde curls. “I didn’t realize anyone had moved in!” Sticking her hand out, she said, “I’m Missy. Welcome to the building!”
Liam and Adela both shook her hand, and Liam heard the women chattering, but the words didn’t register. He was busy studying Jeff.
As Liam stared into the man’s face, he saw his own pain from many years ago after he lost Annie. His eyes were flat, and he looked as though he had been beaten down by life.
Or by love.
This was definitely their guy.
“Why don’t both of you come on in?” Liam asked. “Have some dinner with us and throw back a few tinnies. Might as well get to know each other.”
Jeff looked at Liam, then at Adela. “What’s a tinnie?”
“Beer. We’ll throw back a few beers. My Aussie slang is getting the best of me.”
Finally, Jeff shrugged his shoulders. “Sounds good. What do you think, Missy?”
“Sounds great!” Damn, the woman had a mega-watt smile.
Jeff stuck out his hand. “I’m Jeff Waters. And I might as well drink beer and watch ESPN with neighbors than by myself.”
“Wonderful!” Adela exclaimed.
“Let me go change,” Jeff said, his hand on his holster. “Beer and guns don’t mix.”
“Sure, mate, see you in a bit!”
“I’ll be right back,” Missy said. “I just have to put my groceries away.”
Liam shut the door and turned to Adela. “That’s our guy,” he whispered. “I’m certain of it.”
“How?” Adela asked, tilting her head and crossing her arms. “How do you know? How do you know it isn’t Missy?”
“His eyes.”
“You can tell by his eyes?”
“Yes.”
Adela rolled her eyes. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, Liam.”
“Trust me. I know what I’m talking about. There’s pain in his eyes, like there’s a darkness and hurt within him.”
“Liam—“
“Seriously, Adela, that’s our guy. You’ll see.”
“And how do you know it’s not Missy?”
“She’s way too fucking happy.”
He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the kitchen. “We need to figure out what we’re going to serve them. We invited them to dinner.”
As he opened the refrigerator, Adela said, “You’re going to have to cook. He can’t know that I’m not comfortable with the appliances.”
Liam nodded and pulled out a package of steaks. He glanced out the sliding glass door and saw a small barbecue. “We’ll throw these on the barbie, mix up a salad, and call it a day.”
As he bustled about the kitchen, he thought about how this would go down. Instead of looking at Jeff as an assignment, they had to look at him as a potential friend, someone who they wanted to get to know.
He thought about Jeff’s eyes. Yeah, he was definitely their guy. Liam had seen the same thing in his own eyes many years ago after Annie died. The sadness and guilt had just about consumed him. Jeff’s flat stare conveyed heartache, but the spark just beyond it showed the anger and devastation writhing underneath—the same thing Liam had experienced. He threw the steaks on the barbeque, and Liam wondered why he didn’t have the darkness that Evangeline spoke of within him, or maybe he did and didn’t even know it.