against the foyer wall, leaning on his cane. “Go ahead.”
“I need some help with some heavy lifting for Mercy’s party on Sunday. You know about the party, right?”
“Yes,” Liza said, relieved. This wasn’t about Tom, then. “What do you need lifted?”
Rafe opened his mouth, then closed it. Then sighed. “I don’t need you to lift anything. I called Tom. He’s coming over to help me load some tables into Amos’s truck.”
Liza closed her eyes. “Of course he is.”
“Your car’s not outside, so Tom won’t know you’re here. I didn’t want you blindsided.”
“Thank you. I can duck upstairs while he’s here.” But then Rafe winced again. “What?”
“I might have invited him to eat pizza with us.”
Liza’s temper popped. “Dammit, Rafe.”
“I’m sorry! It sounded like a good idea at the time. He doesn’t know you’re here. I promise.”
“When will he get here?” A knock at the front door was her answer. “Fucking hell, Rafe.”
Rafe sighed. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. But I do need help with the tables. I didn’t make that up. You can go upstairs if you need to and I’ll take him out for pizza.”
A dog barked and Liza’s resolve crumbled. “He brought Pebbles. Just . . . open the door.”
Rafe did and Tom stepped in, his expression going slack in surprise. So at least Rafe hadn’t lied about not telling him that she was here. Pebbles took advantage of Tom’s distraction to tug her leash from Tom’s hand and lunge at Liza.
“Whoa,” Liza soothed, gently shoving Pebbles’s massive paws from her chest. She crouched when the dog dropped to all fours, wrapping her arms around Pebbles’s neck and burying her face in the dog’s fur. “Missed you,” she whispered, laughing when Pebbles licked her face.
“I’ll . . .” Rafe hesitated. “Those tables are in the garage, Tom.”
But Tom wasn’t listening, his gaze frozen on Liza’s face. “Can I talk to you?”
“Me?” Rafe asked.
Liza sighed. “No, he’s not talking to you. He’s talking to me. Like you didn’t know.”
Rafe looked uncomfortable. “You should go back with the girls, Liza. Tom, let’s get busy.”
Tom took a step forward, his gaze still locked with Liza’s. “Please.”
Liza opened the garage door. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
Tom crossed the space in two long strides. He closed the door in Rafe’s face before descending the single step into the garage, where Liza had retreated to the far wall, leaning against the hood of Sasha’s hot pink car.
“I didn’t see your car outside,” Tom said.
“I got a ride.”
“Oh.” Tom’s throat worked as he swallowed. He approached warily, his eyes on hers.
She took a few steps back, stopping when she hit the wall. “Is there an issue with Sunny—” She cut herself off, not knowing who could overhear. “With my job application? I already told Raeburn about my interview. Have you heard anything?”
“No, this isn’t about that place. Liza, are you afraid of me?”
Liza frowned. “No. Why would you ask me that?”
“Because you’re standing as far away from me as you can. I can’t . . . I couldn’t handle it if you were afraid of me.”
Liza hated seeing the apprehension on his handsome face. “I’m not afraid of you, Tom. It’s just best if I keep my distance.”
“Why?” he asked, the single syllable sounding tortured.
“Because I . . .” She stared at her feet, then looked up to see he’d come closer. Close enough to touch her now. Close enough for her to catch the scent of his aftershave. “Because it hurts, okay? Being close to you, smelling you, feeling how warm you are? It hurts, because I want more. I know that makes me stupid, but—”
He pressed his fingers to her lips. “Stop it. You are never stupid.” He dropped his arm to his side and she missed his touch immediately. “I’m stupid, but not you.”
“Why did you think I could be afraid of you?”
“Because I yelled.” His blue eyes were filled with turmoil. “I lost my temper and I yelled.”
“You’ve done that before. You’ll—” She stopped herself before she could say that he’d do it again. Because she wouldn’t be giving him that opportunity. Because she’d walked away.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should never yell at you. My father yelled. I don’t mean to.”
“Oh.” Liza’s eyes stung. She knew all about Tom’s father. Knew how the man had beaten Tom’s mother until she’d nearly died. Knew that he’d tortured Tom as a child, burning his skin with cigarettes because Tom had tried to protect his mother when his