Liam's Gold

Liam exited the closet dressed in a button-up shirt and snug jeans. She’d seen his reflection in the computer screen when he’d had on that damp towel, and she’d been afraid to turn around. The man was delicious with a capital D, and he knew it.

His shirt was unbuttoned. To make up for denying herself the towel, she swiveled her chair and inspected his muscular chest and abdomen as he sorted through his sock drawer. The towel he’d been wearing was lumped near the door.

When he glanced her way, she feigned disgust with his slovenly housekeeping, his porn habit, his good looks, his silly shoe fetish and, well, everything about him.

“What?” he asked.

“Your computer is a mess,” she lied. She tugged off her hat and pretended to wipe her brow. Sitting on her butt was such hard work. “It’s going to take me a while to finish. Is that going to ruin your hot date?”

The longer she stuck around, the more likely he was to order a pizza, pop in a movie and ask her to stay. Then they’d pop in another movie, a bad one, and make fun of it together. It was one of their things.

“I don’t have a date. Take all the time you need.” He paused and stared at her with his eyebrows raised, as if she’d just done something shocking. “Have I mentioned how flattering your shirt is?”

“Thanks.” Self-consciously, she crossed her arms, crunching the hat still in her hand against her ribcage. Gram had talked her into buying the shirt. And wearing it. It plunged to the closure of her bra and fit like a glove—a winter glove, granted, but tighter than her normal blouses.

“Let me ask you a question.” He perched on the edge of the desk, his long legs crossed at the ankles. His gaze lingered on her chest before focusing on her face. “If you had a week before you got shipped off, I don’t know, to war or something, what would you do?”

Sal rolled backwards so she didn’t have to break her neck looking up at him. She wasn’t sure if she could handle his scrutiny of her feminine assets. This wasn’t some guy. It was Liam. She felt breathless and anxious.

She also felt her nipples harden. Good thing she was hiding them with crossed arms.

“Did you join the army?” She hoped she sounded unaffected. “I thought they had a cutoff age.”

“Maybe I asked the wrong question.” He fingered his chin, something he did when he was deep in thought. “Is there anything you’d regret if you didn’t do it?”

“I want to see Niagara Falls.”

Liam shook his head. “Other types of things. The kinds of things you’re too chicken to do, not too cheap to do.”

“I’m not cheap, I’m frugal.” Liam was goading her, but knowing that didn’t keep her from feeling goaded.

Unexpectedly, he grabbed the arms of the office chair and rolled it into the bed. When she tried to get up, he blocked her with his body. Even more unexpectedly, he brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen onto her face.

This close, his eyes weren’t pure brown. They were almost hazel and twinkled like holiday lights. His contacts fluttered at the edges of his irises. “How long have we known each other, Sal?”

“Two years, eight months and… Give or take a year. A while.” She tore her gaze away from his, blushing furiously.

She’d moved in with Gram when the feisty old lady had broken her hip while salsa dancing. Liam had arrived not a month later. Though she could afford it, Sal hadn’t gotten around to buying her own house, and it had absolutely nothing to do with Liam. Nothing at all.

“I just realized something.” Liam shifted, bringing himself even closer. “I’d regret it if I never asked you out.”

“We go all sorts of places.” Her heart lurched. Good Lord, he was leaning in. He was about to kiss her. Where had this come from, the closet?

Oh, yes. Oh, yes, yes, yes! She parted her lips and angled her face toward him, closer, closer…