Page 70 of My Killer Blind Date

‘I’m sorry for you, too. For Zoe. What a nightmare.’

‘Yeah,’ I say softly. ‘I’ve actually spent the last six months pretty much obsessing about her case. You have no idea the hundreds of hours I’ve poured into Reddit threads. I don’t regret doing that at all, but … I guess I had a breakthrough this past week. I think I’m ready to move on. Not forget her, obviously …’

‘… yeah, there will always be that grief …’

‘Exactly. But I still have a life to live, you know?’

We’ve almost made it back to the cabin, which is good, because it’s getting dark. Thankfully, we left the lights on, and the big glass sliding door glows warmly.

I can’t believe how well Liam and I understand each other. Of course I already felt a connection with him, and that magnetic pull. But here by the lake, I’m discovering another layer to him.

On the deck, with the gentle glow from the cabin and the rhythmic crash of the waves from the beach, I catch Liam’s arm before he goes in.

‘Wait.’ Then, I go on tiptoes and kiss him. It’s different from our other kisses. I don’t feel lustful right now – I feel connected. In a way that I’ve never felt with any other man. At some deep, heart level.

He murmurs his approval as I deepen the kiss and throw my arms around his neck. His hands go to my waist, bracketing me in place.

‘I want you,’ he murmurs as he pulls back, looking into my eyes. He brushes hair out of my face with an expression of deep focus, like he’s intent on taking all of me in. One of his hands is half under my T-shirt, and his thumb strokes the waistband of my pants. ‘Maybe we could go inside.’

‘My feet are sandy,’ I say, awkwardly lifting up a foot. ‘Your place is so nice. I don’t want to track this in …’

He grins. ‘There’s an outdoor shower right over there where we can rinse off.’

Off the side of the deck, he leads me over a couple stone pavers to a little wooden structure I’d taken for a small shed – but nope, it’s a semi-enclosed outdoor shower in weathered wood. Inside is a built-in bench.

A little ledge holds soap and shampoo, and the shower head is of the fancy variety.

‘Here – let me heat it up.’ Rolling up his sleeves, Liam detaches the shower head and turns on the water, which quickly warms, then beckons for my feet. I take a seat on the bench and lift my feet, my eyes brushing over the rippling muscles in his forearms.

He crouches at my feet, rinsing the sand off. The only light is the glow from the house, casting a dim golden sheen on Liam’s skin.

‘There’s this stubborn little bit here …’ he says, massaging my foot with one hand and moving up my ankle and calf. The water feels divine, and Liam’s hands …

‘I think we got it all.’ He gives his own feet a quick spray, then moves to turn the water off, but I lean forward and touch his arm, feeling his muscle immediately flex in response.

‘Wait.’

He stands upright, looking down on me, the water from the shower head beating down on the wooden platform.

‘Wait?’ he says with a knowing look in his eyes. Steam curls upward in the dim light, lending an otherworldly mood. ‘Not ready to be done here yet?’

Oh God. Am I ready for this?

Everything in me screams yes. I want to finally give full rein to these damn feelings I’ve been fighting ever since I walked into Wine & Thistle and realized how much I loved making Liam laugh. Now, here at the beach, hearing him talk about his sister, about his broken heart – he’s not just a dream guy with a sexy laugh and great arms. He’s wounded like me, vulnerable and precious in his own way. And I want him.

I tug at his shirt. ‘Take this off.’ My voice is more whispery than I anticipated.

He attaches the shower head back on its peg, the water still beating down, then turns toward me, peels off his shirt and tosses it aside with a casual gesture, revealing the pale musculature of his cut torso. He holds my gaze for a second. ‘Like this?’

Still sitting, I dance my fingertips over his abs, and up to his chest. Little water droplets from the shower’s mist cling to his skin, glinting like little jewels.

‘Like that,’ I confirm.

He plucks at the sleeve of my T-shirt. ‘Maybe you should take this off, then. Fair’s fair.’

I stretch both my hands up. He laughs – yes, God, that laugh of his, rich and full of life – and in one swift motion he pulls off my top, his eyes taking me in. He fingers my bra strap, tugging gently.

‘This too?’