“I’m sorry. You helped with this?” Liam’s brow furrows, his gaze oscillating between his dad and me.
I bite my lip, bouncing on my toes. “So. Do you like it?”
Liam rubs his head with his forefinger, and my hands itch wanting to reach up and make sure he’s okay. “I’m still trying to understand what this is?”
Mr. Kelly crosses his arms, staring up at Liam. “It may have come to my attention in the past few months that you think you owe me something, so you’ve been lying about your interest in the creamery.”
“I just wanted you to retire early.” Liam’s shoulders curl in.
“Kiddo, I’m forty-three. If I retired now, I’d be bored out of my mind and drive your mother to tears. I appreciate that you care about me enough to want to sacrifice part of your life for me, but that stops now. My dad passed the creamery to me when he died, and since I don’t have any intention of dying anytime soon, I thought I could give you the next best thing because that’s the way this dynamic is supposed to work, not the other way around, not until I’m like eighty or something. Sound good?” His lips twitch, satisfied at the look of sheer stupor washed over Liam’s face. “But I’m going to let your partner finish cluing you in because I’ve got places to be.” He heads for the door. “Oh, but watch her in the kitchen. She seems a bit accident prone,” he says with a wave and an exit.
Liam scratches at the scruff on his cheek, jaw slack, eyes wide in disbelief as his dad leaves.
“So.” My eyes struggle to find a place to settle. The athletic shirt Liam’s sporting is clinging to every ridge and ripple, stretching wide across his broad chest and biceps. Mr. Kelly wasn’t wrong, that shirt is definitely—
“You about done ogling me there, Peaches?”
I pick my eyes up, heat staining my cheeks, and meet a mischievous smirk.
“Mm-hmm,” I squeak. It’s not even worth trying to deny it.
“Great. Because I’m still a little confused here.”
“Oh, right. So I’m Evie.” I extend out my hand.
“Yes. I got that part.” He shakes his head, placing his hands on his hips and staring at me.
“I’m a decent baker, but as my investor said, I’m a bit accident-prone. I’m also terrible at accounting, so we both agreed it might be a good idea to have a business partner and buddy baker. Provided, of course, said buddy agrees not to dump copious amounts of sugar over my head.”
“Still contend I didn’t have anything to do with that.”
“Still contend it was your aura.” My lips twitch.
He takes a step toward me. “That aura seemed to grow on you for a bit.”
“Like a fungus.” I nod, letting my back fall against the pole and tilting my chin to meet his stare.
“And how about now? Are you just looking for a business partner?” He takes another small step. Up this close, I can see his eyes that shone with mischief just a few minutes ago have grown darker, a flicker of a wild flame burning inside.
I swallow. The shitty thoughts I’ve been learning to tell myself are just thoughts, not reality, nettle my conscience again. I’ll make things complicated. He’s going to have to deal with my endo too. A lot of life blessings people often take for granted become frustrated, complicated hell fires with me. I shake my head. I’m done letting this thing take more of me than it already has. I’m done sacrificing my dreams. And I’m done not trusting that Liam means what he says. If he still wants this, he knows what he’s getting into.
And I know that if the roles were reversed, it wouldn’t matter to me. I’d still want him, every second of every day, mess and all. Because he’d be more than a complication. And so am I.
“I’m working on this, I swear.” I laugh, breathing through the spiral.
He reaches for me. “Banish whatever shitty thing you’re trying to tell yourself right now, Peaches.” He wraps his hand around my waist and pulls me tight against him. “And tell me what you want.”
“I want you,” I whisper as he pushes my hair off my forehead and lays a soft kiss on top. My eyes flutter closed when his lips meet my skin, and my whole body explodes with a rush of shimmers. “I want everything with you. If that’s something you’re still interested in.”
“Does it look like something I’d still be interested in?” he murmurs against my skin. “Or do you need me to be more explicit?”
“I just didn’t want you to feel obligated because—I don’t know, the business partner thing or—”
Liam stops his exploration, holding my head in his hands. “No. Stop that. Nothing I ever fucking do with you is an obligation. If I do it, it’s because I love you, and I want to do it. That’s it. Understood?”
I nod.
“Good. Now one more question.”
