Harper sets his booster seat into the back and he’s talking nonstop as he jumps in and the look on his face when Gavin hands him the hat is priceless.
Harper slides into the passenger seat. “I think he likes it.”
“No kidding.”
I drive them the short distance to Harper’s place and she jumps out with the boys to meet the sitter. A few minutes later, she’s back in the car with me, and I lean into her, catching her by surprise, and press my lips to hers.
“What was that for?” she asks.
“That was just a warm up of things to come.” She frowns. “What?”
“Tera just told me she’s not going to be able to spend the night with the boys, so I’ll have to come back here after the party.”
I shrug. “I’m not seeing a problem here.”
“I’m sure you’ll want to go home and sleep in your own bed. My little bungalow is so small, squishy even.”
“Are you that sure of me, Harper?” I ask, thinking after the last couple of weeks she might know me better than that. She eyes me and I give her another kiss. “I want to be in whatever bed you’re in, and I don’t care if it’s my house or yours, okay?”
“Okay,” she says with a soft sigh, her lips still poised, ready for more kisses. I brush my thumb over her plump bottom lip. Her eyes slowly open and she adds, “I’m going to be the designated driver tonight, because when we come back here to sleep, I have to be on high alert, in case one of the boys wake or gets sick or needs anything.”
“No, you’re not,” I tell her, not needing alcohol as long as I have her by my side, and that is one messed up situation, because I only have her for a little while longer. She certainly made sure I knew that earlier. Why the hell does that bother me so much?
Oh, maybe because you want more, dude.
Oh shit, I want more.
10
Harper
I take in Liam’s profile as he drives back to Violet’s house for Jason’s party. My heart beats just a little faster in my chest, partly because the party animal just told me he’s going to be the designated driver, and partly because I can’t be photographed with him. I wasn’t about to cause a scene at his place, but I didn’t want him to skip the interview because I was uncomfortable. I mean, any publicity is good publicity for him, right? That gives me pause. Over the last couple of weeks, I saw a softer side to Liam Dalton. A caring, nurturing side that spoke of consideration for others, and not just for himself. The media paints him as a bad ass who cares little about rules, or others. I’m just not seeing that. Is it possible that he’s not really a rule breaker, that he only does that because it’s what’s expected of him?
“You’re awfully quiet,” he says and lightly squeezes my arm, pulling my thoughts back.
“Are you sure you really want to do this?”
Hurt moves across his face. “Don’t you think it’s a little late to be second guessing this?” he asks as he pulls into the driveway. “But if you don’t want me—”
“No, no, it’s not that, Liam,” I say and realize what he must be thinking. I straight up told him I didn’t want to be photographed with him. I didn’t tell him the reason why, and hopefully I never have to, but for a rule breaker who supposedly doesn’t care about much other than hockey, partying and having fun, it’s clear I hurt him on a deeper level. I just really don’t want to get into my past, and what being seen with him could mean. “I want you.”
“You want me?” he asks.
I laugh. “Well yes, I do, but I also want you to meet my friends. I think you’re really going to like them.”
“If they’re friends of yours, then I’m sure I will.” I bite my lip and exhale a groan. “What?” he asks.
“The guys are going to lose their minds when they meet you, and they’ll want to talk hockey and monopolize your time when you’re just trying to relax and—”
“I don’t think we have anything to worry about.” He gives me a playful wink as he kills the ignition. “I’m not their favorite, remember?”
I chuckle. “Yes, but I want you to have a nice time. It can’t always be easy being ‘on’ for a crowd.” I emphasize the word on, because deep down, I’m believing more and more that there are many more layers to this man.
“I can handle myself,” he says to me.
“Later, if you play your cards right, I’d like to handle you too.”
“Better yet, I get to handle you.” He laughs and opens his door, but I like how he turned it around to wanting to touch me. It does the weirdest things to me, makes me feel special. Ridiculous, I know. I’m just one of many women. Or am I? “Do you need me to carry you?”
I roll my ankle. “Maybe later. It seems fine right now.” I carefully exit the big ass truck, and Liam is right there on my side to catch me, but I don’t fall. He takes the cake from me, and I shut the door. The soft thud carries in the quiet night.
“If I carry it in, do you think I can pass it off as mine.”
“You can try, but everyone has tasted my lava cake already, so you’ll have a hard time pulling it off. Actually, let me carry that, because the guys
