Page 33 of Best Kind of Trouble
“Oh no,” he says easily. “I’m definitely coming. I’ve got to see that recipe for myself.”
“You don’t want to come,” I gush.
“Why not? I hate cooking, and it sounds like I’m going to be pretty busy making beer. I’ll need a break.”
I remember that I have no idea what he’s doing for the holidays. What if he planned on taking a long vacation?
“Oh, no,” I say. “Are you celebrating Christmas?”
He gives me an incredulous look, hesitates, then says, “No.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling guilty now. “You should. Of course you should. What do you usually do?”
“It’s my favorite day to get drunk. So I’ll definitely be free for your family dinner.”
“You probably don’t want to meet my parents. My mother’s not the kind of person people like either.”
“That’s an interesting way of sayingyoudon’t like them,” he remarks.
I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly cold down to my bones. “I didn’t say that. Iwouldn’tsay that. They’re my parents.”
“You didn’t ask them to be,” he points out. “They’re the ones who decided to have a kid.”
“I never thought of it that way.” I shiver, either from the thought or the chill breeze sneaking into my coat. “But I still don’t want you to come.”
“Which only makes me want to come more.” He nods in the direction of Silver Star, which is only a couple of blocks away now. “Let’s keep going. It’s cold out here.”
I doubt he’s cold, although it surprises me that he’d care that I might be.
Neither of us says much for the rest of the walk, but Liamcatches my elbow a few times to keep me from slipping or bumping into someone. The places he’s touched are covered by my sweater and jacket, but the skin there practically buzzes with awareness.
When we reach Silver Star, a strange feeling tears through my chest. It’s a mixture of pride—it’s mine—and fear—becauseoh no, it’s mine—and the shameful memory of what happened here last night.
Liam gives my arm a gentle squeeze, startling me. My gaze meets his, and he smiles. “I’m not going to tell you it’s going to be okay. This situation will probably go tits up soon enough.”
“Thanks for the pep talk,” I mutter, all at once feeling sad and mostly sober.
“But you’re really going balls to the wall, Briar. I respect that.”
There he goes again, surprising me. I peer up into his eyes, a much deeper amber than the whiskey I spent my morning drinking, and I’m hit with a bolt of awareness of him as a man.
Not that I was totally oblivious to him before. I’ve always known he’s big and strong, and that his features suit him. His crooked nose is balanced by those big, brown eyes, and his short beard brings attention to his perfectly sculpted jawline. His strong throat. And then there’s his hair, too red to be brown, too brown to be fully red.
No!a voice in my head shrieks.No men for a year!
And not this man, ever. Even if he weren’t already completely off limits because he’s both my employee and my best friend’s brother, there’s no way I’m blowing up my life, again, for a man who isn’t interested in a relationship.
Like Liam said, we have to learn from our mistakes, or at least try.
Amusement is dancing in his eyes again, almost as if he can hear the thoughts I would never give voice to.
“Thank you,” I say, trying to sound indifferent. “Now, come inside and see what you own ten percent of.”
His smile fills his eyes. “Which ten percent is mine? The bathroom? The basement? Details matter.”
“Would you like to bring out a tape measure?”
“Oh, there’s definitely no need for that, Princess,” he says with an easy grin that sends a shock wave through me.
