I glanced down. My shirt was going to have to be washed since it already had fish on it where she had been clutching it. Shrugging, I pulled it off and threw it over my shoulder. Might as well get rid of it now.
She finished and grabbed a towel as I waited patiently. When she turned, I held out my hand, smiling at her, hoping she could see how much I wanted this, wanted her, right now. Fish or no fish.
Her eyes widened as she looked at me, and I waggled my eyebrows at her rakishly.
She stomped over and stood in front of me. Then she said the last thing I expected. “Go put on a shirt, Liam.”
“Sorry. Did you want to take it off? Maybe you can do that next time.”
She threw her hands up in the air. “No. There’s not going to be a next time. There isn’t going to be a this time. Stop it right now, Liam. You’re not in love with me. You just panicked.”
“Panicked? You think I panicked? Over what?”
“You were afraid I would leave you. Don’t worry. I won’t be seeing Douglas again.”
“I know.”
“You know? How do you know?”
“I went to see him this morning.”
“Why?”
“To tell him to stay away from you.”
When she crossed her arms over her chest, and that “V” appeared on her forehead, I should have shut up. But I didn’t.
“I told him I was in love with you, and he thinks you love me as well. He said we were too close for that not to be the case. He agreed to back off.”
Her foot started tapping. I ignored another crucial hint.
“I see. Anyone else have any wisdom to impart to you?”
I nodded with a wide grin on my face. “Everett told me I make you silly. He said we were good together and I make you happy. I got his blessing this morning as well.”
“Let me get this straight. You have some sort of drunken epiphany about being in love with me, and the first thing you do is go tell your cousin and my brother?”
For the first time, I felt a small ripple of uncertainty. When she said it like that, it didn’t sound very good.
“I, ah, figured out I loved you before I got drunk, Shelby. I got drunk because I realized I loved you.”
Wait.
Dammit. That didn’t sound as good as it did in my head.
I rushed ahead.
“You weren’t here this morning. I had to go see Douglas and stake my claim.”
Her eyebrows shot up.
Shit.
That sounded even worse. What the hell was wrong with me?
Her voice was deceptively quiet. “And Everett?”
“I wanted to make sure he wasn’t gonna hurt me for fucking around with his sister.”
Oh, bloody hell.
Maybe I was still drunk.
Shelby laughed, but she didn’t really sound amused. The sound frightened me a little, and I backed up.
“Well, don’t worry about that, Liam. Not only did you waste your time ‘staking your claim,’ there isn’t a chance in hell you’re going to be ‘fucking around’ with me.”
I grimaced. “No?”
She inched toward me. Close enough I could smell her light fragrance. Feel the heat of her breath on my skin.
“Not unless hell freezes over.”
She stepped back.
“Enjoy your sushi.”
I was sure she muttered “wanker” on her way out of the room. There might have been a “fucking” in front of it as well. But I couldn’t be sure. Sounded about right, though. My own stupid word-vomit was echoing in my ears. Maybe I needed to write my own rule book—one that contained nothing but do-not-do’s.
I sat on the chair heavily. As my first time declaring my love, I’d say that wasn’t how it should have gone.
As Everett would say, I cocked it up.
Badly.By midweek, I was certain I was going to explode.
To anyone who saw or interacted with me, everything seemed normal. I attended various meetings, talked and planned with Everett. When he arrived on Monday morning, I only looked at him with a subtle shake of my head, and he knew. He didn’t say a word to either of us an acted as if nothing was wrong. He muttered one word to me before he left that night—patience. And bloody hell, I was trying.
I studied my upcoming script daily, and even went to the gym voluntarily. Everything seemed normal.
But it wasn’t. Shelby wasn’t normal.
When she reappeared on Sunday afternoon, Beaker was gone, and she was, for the first time ever, my housekeeper.
A bloody perfect, distant housekeeper.
She cooked for me, even ate with me, filling the silence with horrendous idle chatter. She talked about redecorating the space over the garage that Marie used to have, constantly showing me samples I had no interest in. But I pointed and nodded obediently at the options she obviously wanted me to choose anyway, hoping she would stop and become Shelby again. She was like a person possessed by her swatches, clutching them like a talisman against me. I missed the comfortable silences we used to share.