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“Sir?” Sam leaned against the doorjamb. “Into that kinky Dom and sub thing, huh?” He glanced her up and down. “I could be into it, too.”
Meg shook her head. “Wow. Not impressed.” She closed the door a little more, until it was a small crack. “Let’s start over. What can we do for you, Mr. Young?”
Meg could handle Sam.
Callie walked into the bathroom and stared into the mirror. A small rose-shaped hickey peeked from below the collar of her robe. “Great, I look like I’m sixteen.” Not that she’d had any boyfriends back then, but she remembered Meg enjoying those days, so she lived vicariously.
The door closed in the bedroom.
Meg tapped on the door. “We’re going to dinner with Liam and Sam.”
“What about Paul and Jonathan?”
“They’ve met some other guys and are having a beer tasting and poker night in one of the resort’s bars.”
“I don’t have anything to wear, Meg.” Callie waited to hear back. “Meg? Meg!” But there was no answer.
She’d take a shower, climb back into the fuzzy robe, and not worry about going anywhere. The next time she’d see Liam Young would be riding in the SUV on their trip to the airport.
12
Liam
“Why did I let you talk me into this?” Liam pulled on the collar of the button-down shirt.
“It’s just dinner with two lovely women.”
His little brother was annoying. As always. But God, how he’d missed it.
“With a woman I almost slept with, who has slept with our soon-to-be brother-in-law.”
“Who cares who slept with who? You and her want to have sex. Then have sex.”
Maybe this would stop Sam.
“Callie thinks you’re dying.”
“What?” Sam stopped messing with his hair in the mirror next to the door. He spun to face Liam.
Liam sat back in an armchair and rubbed the back of his neck. “Trent, Britt’s fiancé, told Captain Laurel that you have cancer. I’m assuming to get her to fly me here to get you. Her father died from the disease in January … so…”
“Fuck. I’m not playing the part of a dying man.”
Bingo! Shoes coming off.
Liam didn’t want his brother to be a part of this ridiculous story Trent had devised. He was already tired and anxious about playing the role he’d unwillingly fallen into of aiding and abetting a serial liar and cheater. Callie was a businesswoman; she’d probably have taken the charter anyway. Then he remembered her declaration of their “no last-minute flights” decree in the policies. This wasn’t a seventy-two-hour booking. Trent had pulled a fast one on Callie, and knowing the truth felt like Liam was doing the same. He didn’t like lying. But he knew what it meant to Brittney to have her brother home for the wedding. His heart squeezed with pressure as he attempted to decide. The right decision. But was there one?
They’d bail on dinner. It was that simple.
“I can see the wheels turning in your head, Liam. I’m hungry and need to get out of this hotel room. I won’t bring up the subject, and neither will they. No one wants to talk to a dying man about … dying.”
He didn’t like it.
Sam sat on the coffee table and leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Come on. I’m here. I’m going to go back to Omaha, even though I don’t want to, for this shitstorm of a wedding.”
He wouldn’t lie anymore. “I don’t know if there will be a wedding, Sam.”
“Why?”
