Changing Roles - Page 18

And I was good with that.7LiamI stumbled down the stairs the next morning, yawning, and glanced at the clock in the hall. Not morning, really. It was almost noon. Shelby had let me sleep late.

I grimaced as I heard the sound of voices and merriment coming from the kitchen. That wasn’t Everett’s deep tone I could hear, but it was familiar. I entered the kitchen, surprised to find Douglas sitting at the table, talking to Shelby, who was busy at the counter. She looked up and gave me a sweet smile.

I smiled back, taking her in. Gone were the glamorous gown and makeup. She was back in her yoga pants, had on one of my too-large shirts, and her hair swept up into a ponytail again.

Yet, somehow, she’d never looked as lovely to me as she did right at that moment.

“Hey, Oscar.”

I shuffled over, grabbing the cup of coffee she was holding out for me, and kissed her cheek.

“Hey, Shelby.” I took a deep sip and turned toward to the table. “Douglas.”

“Sleep well, Liam?” he asked, amused, looking at his watch. “Rather a late start to the day.”

I scowled at him. “I was up earlier for a long run. I was reading scripts in my room,” I informed him haughtily. “I didn’t know you were here to see me, or I would have come down sooner.”

Beside me, Shelby chuckled under her breath. As she handed me a plate with a bagel on it, she leaned up on her toes, and I tilted my head to the side to better hear what she had to say. I liked her warm breath floating over my neck as she spoke.

“Being chased by a giant peanut butter cookie in your dream is not going for a long run. I did come to get you, but you were snoring so loudly, I let you sleep.”

I glared at her. I never should have told her about that dream. She’d held it over my head ever since and never let me eat a dozen peanut butter chocolate chip cookies before retiring for the night again.

And even more important, I didn’t snore.

“Shut it, woman.”

She bit her lip to stop from grinning, and I couldn’t help myself. I kissed her cheek again. “You’ll pay for that later.” I dropped my voice further, putting my lips to her ear and flexing my fingers against her ribs where I knew she was ticklish. “My wee lass.”

She giggled. She loved the fact that I sometimes imitated my Scottish mum, and I loved the fact that when I did, it made her smile. Occasionally, she teased me about my “muddled” accent—a mixed-up jumble of Scottish and English rolled into my own unique sound I liked to use to make her laugh. And when she did, I would have to tickle her as I prattled on, laying the sound on even thicker, making her laugh even harder. It was one of our things we did. Like foot rubs and movie nights.

I turned back to Douglas, noticing the strange look he was giving us. I ignored it and sat, taking a huge bite of my bagel. Luckily, Shelby had loaded it with cream cheese so I could overlook the fact that it was one of the types filled with fiber and seeds. I had no idea why she thought I needed to eat bird food. It was almost as bad as the salads she forced on me, but at least there was cream cheese.

“What’s up?” I asked, licking the cheese off my fingers. “I didn’t know you were coming over.” Shelby shoved a napkin into my hand, muttering something about being raised in a barn. I grinned at her.

“Ta, Beaker.”

She patted my shoulder. “I have things to do, so I’ll leave the two of you alone.”

Douglas stood. “Thanks for the coffee, Shelby. I’ll see you soon.”

Shelby blushed and looked at me, uncertainty reflected in her glance. I realized she appeared uncomfortable, and I sat straighter. Why was she uncomfortable? I looked at Douglas. Had he done or said something to her? I wouldn’t stand for that sort of crap. This was her home, too, and she shouldn’t be subjected to bullshit here. Well, except from me.

I turned to him as she left. “What were you talking to Shelby about that made her nervous?”

He frowned at me as he sat back down. “I wasn’t aware she was nervous.”

“She was,” I insisted. “She had that ‘V’ between her eyes. She only gets that when she’s nervous.”

He took a sip from his coffee. “You know her awfully well for a housekeeper.”

“She’s not just my housekeeper. She’s way more than that.”

“How much more?”

“She’s my friend. My best friend.”

“That’s all?”

“All? Isn’t that enough?”

“So, if she is your friend, then it won’t bother you at all that I came here today to ask her out.”

Tags: Melanie Moreland Romance
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