TAKE TWO_ Who says you can't ma - Heather M. Orgeron Page 0,5
it’d probably be smart to get it over with before I start moving my things inside. That could get awkward.” He glances to his wrist at the watch he isn’t wearing and snaps his fingers twice. “Chop-chop, wife. Time’s a tickin’.”
A string of Spanish curses flies from my mouth, only making the smug look on his face more pronounced. He always loved to see me lose my shit, and it still pisses me off that he finds my anger so amusing.
“I’m just going to…umm…go up to my room and get a shower…and get ready for school,” Ellie offers, twirling a lock of hair around her finger as she backs away slowly. She, on the other hand, is not as amused when my Latina comes out to play. “Good luck with your boyfriend, Mom!” she shouts, rushing for the door.
“Want me to come in and help you break the news?”
Well, isn’t he quite the Boy Scout? “Don’t you dare.”
“Just trying to help.” He shrugs, crossing his arms on his chest and leaning against the side of the big, orange moving truck.
“Liam, I really care about him.”
At that he snorts.
“Would it kill you to be serious for once?”
Liam tugs at his lower lip, eyes growing dark as he pushes off of the truck, closing the space between us in two strides. He’s close, so close the tips of his dusty work boots are brushing my bare toes. It would be so easy to lift a knee and relieve a little of this pent-up aggression on his manhood. A chill ripples through me. Great, now I’m thinking about his dick. “If you cared about him at all,” he challenges, “you wouldn’t have ended up here with me.” He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my face up so our eyes meet. “How’s that for serious talk?”
I grab his wrist, pushing his hand away. My blood is boiling. His words infuriate me, mostly because I know he isn’t entirely wrong. Wanting and even loving this man has never been the issue. But not everything you want is good for you. And Liam Watts is a threat to my heart…and my sanity. “I was drunk and…and estupida.”
“I’m not gonna touch on the stupid remark, but let’s not pretend you were anything more than tipsy at best,” he counters. “At least not before we made it to Vegas, anyway.”
The look in his eyes dares me to argue. I can’t. I might not remember much after leaving the house, but everything leading up to that point is crystal clear.
“Look, you’re afraid to admit that this is what you want. I don’t like it, but I get it. So, I’ll play your game. We’ll do this your way. Because I’m the one who fucked up all those years ago, darlin’, and I damn sure know it. I don’t deserve your trust, but you can bet your hot little ass I’m gonna use the time I’ve been granted to earn it back.”
I can’t even find my own voice, which is not a common occurrence for a loudmouth such as myself. With my jaw slack and my heart lodged deep in my throat, I stare at the man who—if I’m honest with myself—I’ve never gotten over. He knows it, and I know it. But he taught me the hard way that, unfortunate as it may be, love just isn’t enough. It doesn’t always equate to happiness. Love doesn’t warm your bed at night. Doesn’t shield you from pain. No, it rips you wide open, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. And when that same love begins to make you miserable, you are left with no other choice but to let it go. I had to let him go.
“What’s going on out here?” Ryder asks, suddenly appearing behind me. I jump back, away from Liam, to take my place by his side. His blonde hair that was combed down so neatly before is now in complete disarray, a tell he’s been worrying his hands through it. “What’s with the truck, Liam?”
There’s not a hint of accusation in his tone. Just mild confusion. The poor guy has no reason to suspect my ex-husband would be moving back in with me, or that he’s no longer my ex-husband, for that matter. He probably thinks he just stopped by on his way to wherever it is he’s moving to.
“Baby,” Liam croons, with a grin that stretches from ear to freaking ear. “Do you want to tell him? Or should I?”