I definitely didn't.
"Shit," I mutter under my breath. I unlace my first shoe. "Where is your dad, by the way?" I yell back to Ruthie.
"Right here," a voice bellows behind me.
I spin around, now half-out, yet still-half inside my New Balance. That, mixed with a very excited Sammy, causes me to stumble and grab onto the shoulder of the man I was already so worried about pissing off.
"Oops, sorry," I say, my cheeks instantly warm. I rip my fingers away from his giant, broad, muscular… from his arm, and use them to slide completely out of my first shoe instead.
Liam says nothing as he unclips Sammy's leash from his collar. He's wearing a faded Flames hockey t-shirt that may be made of the world's thinnest material, and black running shorts that somehow manage to exist around his massive quads without cutting off his circulation.
The dog sniffs at me, then jumps up as usual. Liam groans as he pulls him down, and Sammy licks my hand once before bounding toward Ruthie—or my banana bread—tail wagging as he waddles.
"Sorry, I was just…" I point to my sneaker, sliding the other off. I wiggle my toes in my purple socks, thanking God I at least picked two that matched today. "I thought you were here, or I wouldn't have—"
"I just took Sammy for a quick mile."
"Oh, yeah, no," I back track. "Ruthie's eleven. I mean, she can stay home alone for fifteen minutes. I wasn't saying that."
"Six and a half," he says dryly.
"Huh?"
He hangs the leash on the hook by the door and slides out of the same Nikes he had on before. "Well, technically, six minutes and twenty-four seconds."
"Oh," I say, incapable of forming real words. I realize that's not an outrageously small number, especially for someone professionally trained like Liam, but still. I can't even blow dry my hair in under seven minutes, and this man can make it to the Boulevard.
"Sorry," he says, hanging his hat on the hook as well and running a hand through his locks. My eyes follow his fingers before I dart them away. "I said 8:00 and considering your track record…"
I prepare to argue just as the corners of his lips curl slightly.
"Well, I told you that doesn't happen often," I remind him, instantly calmer with him cracking jokes.
He nods and narrows his eyes. "I believe the exact phrasing was never."
"Right. Never."
He tips his chin down. "Alright then."
Liam walks toward the kitchen while I remain frozen behind him, paralyzed by the size of this man's glutes.
My God, I'd kill for an ass like that.
"So, you've already met Ruthie," Liam calls over his shoulder
I spring to attention, following him into the kitchen area. "Sort of," I say, catching up and moving toward the island where Ruthie is stuffing her face full of bread. "I'm Tessa."
"I figured," she mumbles, her palm in front of her full mouth. "It's nice to meet you."
"You too."
"What are you eating?" Liam asks, cutting in and pulling the pan closer to him.
"Oh, I made banana bread."
Liam all but dives at the disposable metal tin, leaning down to smell it. When he realizes both his daughter and I are staring at his eagerness, he backs up slowly and casually pushes it away. "Cool," he says smoothly. "Not too much, Ruthie."
I wink at her as she nods in agreement despite the large chunk already missing.
