Page 14 of The Mood Board

“It’s no problem,” I told her, forcing my friendliest smile as I took the baking oven from her. Before I could take it back into the kitchen, however, Liam lifted off the top. Inside was a beautiful loaf of bread, the steam vents cut into leaves and whorls. It looked like she had bought it from a top bakery.

“You made this?” I asked before I could stop the words from coming out. My tone sounded much too surprised—and impressed—to my ears.

“I did. I learned from this chef in Italy while I lived there.” Janelle handed Liam her purse to put away and adjusted the gold bracelet and watch at her wrist. “It was this tiny town far off the tourist path. I stopped in on my way and just asked the baker if he could teach me on a whim, and he did.”

“No way,” Tom, the last person I would have imagined to be interested in a baking story, chimed in. “What did he teach you?”

We all sat down as Janelle continued to tell her story. And another one after that, and then even more about her travels, her adventures, and all the people she had met along the way. Liam and Tom hung on her every word, asking questions and urging her to share more. And unfortunately, even Bianca seemed to fall under her spell.

I tried to, of course. Her adventures were fascinating in their own right, and it would have been different coming from anyone else. But at everything Janelle said, my mind cooked up a sarcastic comment, and it was all I could do to keep a pleasant expression on my face and nod along as though I, too, couldn’t get enough of her adventures.

By the night’s end, as we showed our guests out, I was a complete wreck, my nerves frayed to their very ends.

What was wrong with me? Was I that jealous of her? Yes, she was impressive and had done an impressive amount in her life. But she was just one woman, and though Tom and Liam both found her fascinating, neither had shown any kind of romantic interest in her. I was secure in my relationship, even if I wasn’t entirely secure in myself.

But something about Janelle rubbed me absolutely the wrong way. I just wished I could get over it—I had to see this woman for the rest of her career with Liam’s company. I would have to get over it at some point. Or, if not, at least play nice. She certainly hadn’t done anything to me and didn’t deserve this kind of dislike.

Maybe I just needed a little bit of reassurance.

Liam was clearing the dishes from the table when I touched his arm. When he looked up, he must have seen the expression in my eyes.

“I have to clean up,” he said uncertainly, pointing to the mess on the dining room table. He knew I hated to leave dishes undone at night.

“Leave it,” I said, tugging at his arm.

“Leave it?” he repeated, surprised.

“Leave it,” I insisted, pulling him close so I could peer up at him, biting down at my lip, my insecurity becoming want and desire and the desire to be wanted.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

I could already feel Liam’s need rising to the occasion as he pulled me closer and bent his head to cover my mouth with his.

“Take me to bed,” I murmured.

“Whatever you say.” Desire glimmering in his eyes, Liam took my hand and led me up the stairs to the bedroom.