Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“I’ll give you the tour,” he says, with a smirk. Waving his hand around, he says, “This is it.” I giggle.
“Charming.”
“You guys make yourselves at home. I’ll get us something to eat and call the doctor to check you out. Then we’ll sort sleeping arrangements.” Liam’s on his phone already, taking charge, and hell I love that. Ben and Bailey are already standing by the large windows, so they miss the way he pinches my ass. I feel heat creeping along my neck at the knowledge that I’ll probably share his bed tonight.
It all passes in a blur. I can’t wrap my brain around Liam in the kitchen, heating up a tray of lasagna and serving it with a salad. It looks almost domestic, and it clashes with my mental image of him, but it feels nice. Natural. Homey. And I haven’t had those feelings in quite some time. It feels domestic and comfortable, and we laugh when Ben asks if the glasses we’re drinking out of are made of diamond. Still, I make sure I’m the one loading the dishwasher, and not Ben.
Ben takes one small bedroom at the top of the stairs and Bailey the other, Liam’s doctor visits about an hour after we’ve eaten, and on Liam’s instruction, Manuel brings us all pajamas and toothbrushes and chargers for our phones. When we’re settled, he calls NYPD for an update that he promises he’ll give me later, then tells us all tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep and breakfast, we’ll get more of what we need. He’s thought of everything, it seems, and he seems happy in this role, taking care of us like this. I suppose it makes sense, as he’s a dominant, and I know I’ve talked to Beatrice and Diana about how Zack and Tobias are similar. They enjoy taking charge. They’re happiest when the people they care about are well then care of.
People they care about.
Does that mean Liam cares about us?
And finally, after a surreal whirlwind of getting things situated until Ben and Bailey go to bed… I collapse on the pretty crescent sofa. Liam’s in the kitchen, pouring us each a glass of wine, when he comes to join me.
“Been a long day for you, sweetheart.”
I rest my head on his shoulder and take a long pull from my glass. “It has. God, this wine tastes good.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“What kind is it?”
“Ah, who the hell knows. If I like it, I tell Lila the chef, and she keeps me well stocked.”
It makes sense. He doesn’t have time for such plebeian things like grocery shopping.
He’s lit a fire though it isn’t that cold outside, but it lends an ambiance to the room that I like. I watch the flames flicker on the wall and sip my wine. It isn’t until then, when I’m relaxed and alone with Liam, that I really, truly feel my exhaustion. It suffuses my limbs and my eyes are heavy. Though the past few weeks have been really amazing, I’ve been going full throttle. And it wasn’t until our safety was truly in jeopardy that I felt the weight of what I’ve been carrying.
Liam’s changed into a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, his socked feet stretched out by the fire, crossed at his ankles.
“Happy Friday,” he says. “Not what we planned, but hell if I don’t like having you here with me. This place always feels too big. But tonight, it doesn’t.”
I don’t reply at first, because I’m not really sure what I want to say to him. Instead, I excuse myself to go check on the kids. I hand him my glass and walk up the spiral staircase.
Ben’s already fast asleep, in a pair of navy blue pjs, tucked into a queen-sized bed. God, how I wish this was his reality. How I wish we didn’t have to return to that dilapidated, stinking building with that witch of a landlord. I tuck the blanket around him, and he wakes up, blinking sleepy eyes up at me. “This is like a mansion,” he says with a big yawn. “It’s nice.” Then he’s fast asleep again. A lump rises in my throat, but I swallow it down.
Am I making a mistake? In my attempts to take care of them, bringing them to his place, will I hurt them? I don’t like the idea of them getting any more attached to him than they already are.
Sighing, I make my way to the next room. Ben’s room is a guest room, but Bailey’s is simpler. It’s a small office of sorts, with a comfortable pull-out sofa for her to sleep on. She’s sitting up, reading something on her phone when I walk in.
“Hey,” she says, smiling at me. “Wow, this place is nice, huh?”
“Yeah,” I say. “It’s pretty good.”
“I’m afraid of breaking something, though.”