Page 58 of Best Kind of Trouble
“Most women want me for my big?—”
“Liam.”
“Just saying. It’s about time someone tried to take advantage of me. Do you have any idea how boring life is when no one tries to cross you?”
“No,” I say, my blood going cold. He’s joking, obviously, but the truth is, Idon’tknow. My whole life has been a carousel of different people who’ve used me and thrown me away.
“No, I don’t know,” I repeat, sadness humming through my words.
“That’s because you’re beautiful and kind.” They’re soft words, but he says them fiercely, his jaw tight. “There are people on this earth who take pleasure in controlling beautiful things. But beautiful doesn’t mean delicate. Anyone stupid enough to try leashing a snow leopard deserves to lose a hand.”
“You think I’m like a snow leopard?” I ask, stupefied.
“They were my favorite when I was a kid. I wanted to be a park ranger in Southeast Asia so I could watch them. I figured it would be the perfect job, not many people around, just animals. And animals are always honest, Briar. You do a dipshit thing, they give you a dipshit response. But if you put in the work and earn their respect, you’ll have earned something worth having.”
“You want an animal’s respect, but you don’t care about being respected by people?”
“I never said that.” He reaches across the table, but his hand stops short in the center, lingering there, his fingertips tracing the veins of the wood. “I said I don’t care about being liked. That doesn’t mean I don’t want respect from the people I respect.”
“You’re too late, you know.Ilike you.”
He smiles softly. “You just got done telling me I’m an asshole.”
“I guess I like assholes.”
“Then you really need to have sharp teeth.”
“The better to bite you with?”
“You might want to stick to biting other people. The kid who bit me in kindergarten told me I taste terrible.”
I laugh, but it dries up in my throat. “Liam…” His name comes out quivery and wrong. “I’mnotstrong. I’m scared it’s all going to fall apart, and it’s going to be my fault. I don’t want to let everyone down.”
His hand finally finishes his journey across the table, and he takes my hand and layers our fingers together—each of his caressing each of mine. “You’d be stupid not to be scared. It’s not going to be easy, Princess. I won’t lie and tell you otherwise. You might lose. But if you do, you’re going down with style. You’re smart as hell, don’t forget that.”
I gasp at the feel of him, but he’s not done yet. Flexing his fingers against mine, he says, “You made more sense drunk than most people do sober. And you’re stronger than anyone gives you credit for. You’re going to show them, Briar. You’re going to show them, and they’re never going to forget it.”
“Liam,” I say, my heart hurting. “Otis is bringing the new hires for the tasting room tomorrow. What am I supposed to say to them? They’re giving up most of their holiday break to workfor me, and I might only be able to employ them for a few weeks.”
“Definitely don’t tell them what you told me,” he jokes.
I reach across the table and shove his arm, then regret it, because it’s been so long since I’ve touched someone—really touched them—and he feels so good.
I expect him to get up, to walk away from me, because we both know he should, but instead he nods. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
“There’s a computer in your office, right?”
My office. It’smyoffice now, not my dad’s. Still, it’ll always be the place where I did a remarkably bad job of firing Cleet and Ross. I’ve been avoiding it, but maybe it’s time to reclaim it.
“Yeah,” I say distantly.
“So come on.”
Five minutes later, we’re sitting in the office in front of the desktop—me in the desk chair, because Liam insisted, and him in a laughably small aluminum visitor’s chair with a black plastic seat that groans every time he moves.
I glance at him as I log on to the computer. “Are you ready to tell me what we’re doing in here? The suspense is driving me nuts.”
