"Alright, well, while she stuffs her face, why don't I give you the tour? You two can get to know each other afterward… while I shower."
His last words hit me as if he saidwhile I jerk off,but I hide my reaction—and my instant guilt-induced nausea—turning back toward Ruthie. She smiles wide, the chocolate chips still caked on her teeth, and I laugh, my unease fading.
I think I'm gonna like this girl.
Liam stops only a few feet away, gesturing to the open space. "This is the living area," he says. He points to the room I remember most, with the large sectional couch I sat on and the cozy recliner where he kept his distance. There's the low wooden coffee table that sits on top of the plush woven carpet—everything the same light neutrals as the rest of the house.
Liam continues pointing door to door, explaining what's behind each one. "There's a powder room there off of the kitchen, that leads to the back deck, and the garage is through the laundry room there."
"Speaking of," I cut in while simultaneously trying to remember all the doors. "If you like your clothes washed a certain way, just let me know."
Liam shakes his head. "Ruthie should be doing her own laundry." He looks over at his daughter in the kitchen and arches a brow. "And I wouldn't make you do mine. But if you wouldn't mind throwing towels and stuff in if you see them piled up, that'd be great. No particular method to it."
I nod, offering him a closed-lip smile. "No problem. Laundry, cleaning, cooking—I'm good for it all."
I swear I see his shoulders drop slightly, but he doesn't acknowledge my statement specifically.
"Alright," he says simply. "Through here." He continues into a separate dining space with a long wooden table. There are six seats, but only two cloth placemats—one at the head of the table and one at the first chair next to it. A handful of drawings sit piled in the center, and there's a dog crate in the corner.
"Oh, does Sammy sleep in there at night?"
Liam laughs and rolls his eyes. "No, that thing has sat empty since his second night home. He sleeps with Ruthie and basically has free reign of the house despite my objections."
"As he should," I fire back. Liam fights a smirk but loses before nodding toward the entryway.
We round the staircase, and he sets one hand on the rail and one foot on the step before stopping. I only realize how closely behind him I am when I can barely stop in time to avoid crashing into his massive backside.
"That's just the study," he says, pointing through the French doors.
"It's his man cave!" Ruthie calls from the kitchen, her voice still muffled by what I can only assume is more forbidden banana bread.
Liam looks back at me, now even taller than before because he's perched on the stairs. "I like to sit in there sometimes and read or work on stuff."
I try to picture the Liam that I know—this push and pull of sunshine and rain—curled up by the fire with a book in his lap and a whiskey sitting on the table beside him. My brain glitches slightly when I picture him in glasses he probably doesn't wear and pajama pants he probably doesn't own, shirtless from the waist up and nose deep in a good romance he probably doesn't read.
It's only when he grins at me before turning around that I realize why.
It's not that it's hard to picture.
It's that it's hot to picture.
Shit.
Blowing out a silent breath, I attempt to smother the unease that returns and follow him, leaving my completely inappropriate fantasy behind.
8
Liam
Igive myself a goal of shaking the current image in my head before I reach the balcony. The picture of Tess's eyes glazing over in a way I haven't seen—and definitely didn't expect—when I told her I sometimes read in the study. I know I'm off my game—by give or take twelve years—but there was an unexpected heat there I wouldn't forget. And one I haven't wanted to respond to in too damn long.
By the time we reach the top of the steps, I've wrangled my focus back to where it should be. Tess squeezes next to me between the railing and the wall, and I side-step to give her room—and to avoid inhaling another whiff of sweetness.
Definitely not the ice cream.
"Alright," I say, nodding down the short-side of the hall. "There's a workout room and storage on this side, but everything else is down here. My tone comes out dry without my intending for it to, which doesn't surprise me considering my reaction to her eyes that I'm trying to counteract. Still, I try to reset as I turn down the hallway.
Tess trails behind me as I point to the first door on the left. "This is Ruthie's bathroom. Technically, anyone can use it if they need to, but she's responsible for keeping it clean."
