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13
She arrivedat Liam’s Saturday night feeling more relaxed than she’d expected. She’d spent the day grocery shopping and cleaning her apartment while she listened to the playlist Robin had shared with her when they’d had tea at herapartment.
She’d been oddly relaxed, minus the angst that had accompanied her first dinner with Liam. She was looking forward to their night together, but when it came time to get ready there was no agonizing over what to wear or what would happen betweenthem.
She’d thrown on her black jeans with a comfortable gray sweater and the black boots she wore when she was running around the city and headed to the subway with a mellow dose of anticipation flowing in herveins.
Liam opened the door in worn jeans and a long sleeve black T-shirt, his feet bare, his hair adorably tousled. If that hadn’t been enough to set her heart beating faster, the grin he gave her would have. It was a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin, a lion-inviting-a-gazelle-into-its-lairgrin.
She smiled back. She wasn’t afraid of Liam McAlisteranymore.
“Hey, you.” He pulled her into his arms even before he shut the door behind her, like he’d been waiting as impatiently for the moment when he could touch her again as she hadbeen.
“Hey.” She smiled up at him and he touched his lips to hers, sweeping her into a kiss that was no less erotic for its tenderness. “I’m hungry,” she said in between the short kisses that followed the longone.
He laughed against her mouth. “Of course you are.” Her appetite had always been a source of amusement forhim.
She kicked off her boots at the door and he took her hand and led her into the apartment. “I think I know the real reason you were away for almost a year,” Ninasaid.
“What’sthat?”
“You were replenishing your savings account so it would be up to the task of feeding meagain.”
He laughed again, and the sound of it sent tendrils of warmth into her stomach. “Let’s just call that an addedbonus.”
She knew he was kidding. Liam wasn’t rich, but he was one of the most sought-after photographers on the market. He wasn’t hurting formoney.
He walked through the living room and went around the island in the kitchen. “Wine?”
“Sure,” shesaid.
“White orred?”
“Red,” she said without hesitation, “but you’re asking the wrongquestions.”
“Right,” he said, pouring wine into two glasses. “What would the lady like for dinner? Sushi? Peruvian? Thai?Ethiopian?”
“The lady would like pizza,” shesaid.
He clutched his chest like she’d wounded him. “I give you a veritable smorgasbord of options and you choosepizza?”
“What can I say? I’m a red-blooded American woman. Plus, melted cheese. Andbread.”
He came toward her and handed her one of the half-full glasses of wine. “I can’t argue with melted cheese and bread. I have the perfect place. We can pick a movie while wewait.”
She followed him to the sofa, sat down next to him, and looked around the apartment. She’d forgotten how much she loved the space. It had been a factory once, the original floor-to-ceiling windows still lining one wall, the living room and kitchen one big room. She didn’t even mind the ubiquitous Brooklyn brick wall. Here it was original, worn and faded with decades ofwear.
The furnishings were all Liam — the overstuffed couch perfect for napping, the tumbled concrete floor lined with overlapping rugs, candles on every surface, their burnt wicks evidence that they weren’t for show. Photographs lined every wall, windows to the outsideworld.
“What do you want on your pizza?” Liam askedher.
“Lots of meat.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “What are you having on yourpizza?”
He tipped his head back and laughed, then shook his head as he looked at her. “Jesus, I’ve missedyou.”
She smiled. “I’ve missed youtoo.”
And she had. She’d missed their easy banter, the jokes that could just as easily turn into a philosophical conversation as have them both crying with laughter. She’d missed the comfort of his presence, the feeling that she didn’t have to be anything other than herself and the way they fit together like a lock andkey.
