Page 46 of The Focal Point

“Liam.” Tom put his hands on my shoulders and wouldn’t let me look away. “I love you like a brother, man, and I care about you. I care about Bailey, too, and I need you to fix this before you guys get too close. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, and that’s exactly where this is headed.”

I took a breath to respond, to deny everything, but Tom had pulled the card he knew I couldn’t back away from—he had been earnest and truthful instead of angry. And I couldn’t escape the reality.

“I’m taking her to an art show tomorrow. I’ll tell her afterward. I promise.”

Tom watched my face for a moment more before he released my shoulders. “Good.”

He turned to check on his precious ribs, and I let out a long breath. I had to tell Bailey tomorrow. I knew that. But how would she react?

The question had butterflies dancing again, but this time, it wasn’t the good kind.

Chapter 18

Bailey

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“WOW.”

Liam had been reading something on his phone when I entered the room in my dress. It wasn’t anything flashy, a point that Kristen, who had dragged me shopping, had lamented. Instead, it was an organza gown in a classic silhouette that gave just a hint of cleavage and curves, the floral print understated and perfect for spring.

It was probably the most expensive thing I had ever bought myself, after my car. But when Liam had invited me to a big charity gala, one of the Sacramento society highlights of the year—or so Kristen, who kept up with that kind of thing, said—I knew I couldn’t just choose something out of my closet.

Liam and I still weren’t an official anything, but I was still the date of one of Sacramento’s tech billionaires, and I didn’t want to embarrass him. Although, when I honestly thought about it, I doubted Liam would be in any way embarrassed no matter what I wore. The dress was for me alone.

Well, and to get the reaction out of Liam I saw now. I hadn’t even realized how much I had been looking forward to seeing his face when I came out in the dress until the thrill of his reaction bubbled through me and came out as a laugh.

Staring at me as though he couldn’t drink in enough of the sight, Liam hadn’t moved since I’d appeared from my room.

“Do you like it?” I asked as if I couldn’t already tell. His expression said it all.

My question finally seemed to break him out of whatever spell the sight of me had put him under. His answer was to cross the distance between us in only a few long strides and take me into his arms.

We’d had so little time together lately—we were both too busy to do much more than catch a movie on a weekend night and fall asleep on the couch together. The past few weeks had been the worst, and we had settled on quick lunches or phone calls. It wasn’t the most romantic start to a relationship, but it was all we could do.

But I had missed the simple act of being near Liam, feeling him next to me or pressed against me, feeling his hand around mine. I missed his kisses and the way he looked at me, so full of affection and interest, as though I was the only woman in the world.

None of it was anything I was used to after my relationship with Russ, and there was still a part of me waiting for the other shoe to drop and things to change. But I suddenly realized I had come to appreciate all the little ways Liam showed his appreciation, and I had come to want and even miss his touch—that much was clear as I melted into him, heedless of what it was doing to my hair or makeup, with a sigh of relief.

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and I stiffened. Liam felt the change and pulled back from me just enough to look into my face.

“You okay?” Concern knitted his brow.

“I’m fine.” I nodded, giving him what I hoped was a reassuring smile that hid the lump in my throat. “I’m good. Just happy.”

His smile blossomed brightly at my words, and he kissed my forehead before releasing me. “I know better than to kiss you with your lipstick on.”

“Oh, yeah?” I asked, scooping up my clutch and jacket from the table.

“Helps when you grow up with sisters.” Liam winked, and I giggled as I pulled him back toward me.

“It also helps that I have it in my purse, and I can touch it up in the car.”

His answer was a mixture of a growl and a happy sound as our lips met, his arm coming around my waist to pull me closer.

But my joy turned to anxiety as we pulled up at the art museum, the site of the gala and art auction. The sight of all the women dressed far more beautifully and expensively than I was made my stomach sour, and any ideas about being a well-dressed match for Liam fled.

Liam saw none of this, of course. He was already out of the car and slipping his keys to the valet with an ease that spoke of long practice, just as at the restaurant those months ago. But I was not used to all of this, and I hesitated as he opened the door and held out his hand to me.