I'm Not Charlotte Lucas(58)

“Where are the clean towels?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He stacked the plate before reaching for another. “I’m almost done. But I wouldn’t argue with a malt now.”

“Deal.”

Liam continued drying and putting away the dishes while I got out everything I needed to make malts: ice cream, Nesquik powder, milk, and malt powder. Searching the cupboards, I found the blender and pulled it onto the counter. By the time the malts were ready and scooped into glasses, Liam was finished with the dishes and leaning against the island, a drying towel slung over his shoulder and his arms crossed over his chest.

“Nesquik, huh?”

“You’ll see,” I promised and handed him a glass with a spoon.

I put everything away, filling the blender with water to make it easier to clean later and wiping the counter with a rag before taking a bite from my own glass. Yep, my malts were definitely better than Carrow’s.

“There’s no more left?”

I glanced from Liam to the sink, and then to his empty cup. Chuckling, I scooped half of my own malt into his cup. “Here you go.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to . . .” He took another bite, grinning. “Thanks.”

I emptied my cup and washed it out before reaching for Liam’s and washing it as well. He took them from me to dry, standing so close to my side I felt his body heat on my bare arm.

The sun had set during the Scrabble game, and all was dark beyond Vera’s windows. Only a dim light in the kitchen shone now, and only the faint sound of Vera’s TV upstairs penetrated the silent house. I knew I should leave, but I didn’t want to. Instead, I hopped up on the counter, hoping it would stop Liam from boxing me in again.

We needed to have a conversation, and there was no way I would be able to concentrate if he continued to stand so close to me.

“What are we doing here?” I asked. The question every man hated to hear.

“Cleaning?” he asked, his hand resting lightly on the counter.

I couldn’t help but smile. I wanted to ask him what his intentions were, but this wasn’t a period drama, and he’d probably think I had a screw loose.

His gaze flicked to the counter behind me. Was he thinking about earlier too? The moment he’d stood so close?

“I just want to know what we’re doing,” I said, gesturing between us. “The last time we really talked, I made it clear that I didn’t want a rebound.”

“I haven’t seen you in a week. Is that not long enough to get over him?”

I chuckled. How could I not? I held Liam’s dark gaze, willing him to come out and tell me how he felt without me asking. I didn’t super want to have a define-the-relationship talk, but I was too old to jump into a relationship without expectations.

He leveled me with a look and stepped closer. “I’m pretty sure I couldn’t come on stronger if I tried.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, thinking of his breath mingling with mine. I could smell him again, and that did funny things to my brain. It made me want to giggle, and I was not the sort of girl who giggled. “But what I don’t get is why.”

“Why I’d want to date you, or why I’m putting myself out there like this?”

“I guess both.”

Liam stared at me, small lines creasing between his eyebrows. “You don’t realize how great you are, do you?”

The warmth of a blush stole up my cheeks, and I leaned back on the counter, gripping the edge tightly. I wished I wasn’t so awkward, but what could I do about that now? “I’m not asking for compliments, Liam. I just . . . well, I don’t do casual really well. I’m not interested in casual. I don’t want to waste my time just having fun—I just did that with Andy, and we both know how that turned out—and I really don’t want to waste your time either.”

Liam seemed to pause. “It’s hard to lay out expectations now when I don’t really know what’s going to happen either.”

I dropped my head, shaking it. “I know. I’m coming on too strong here, but I really can’t do a just-for-fun relationship again. I don’t want that. I want a guy who’s going to be all in, and sometimes it feels like that guy doesn’t exist.”

“That guy exists,” Liam said. “And he’s standing right here.”

He took two steps to close the distance, his body coming flush against the counter and his hands slipping around my waist. He pulled me closer to him, sliding me forward on the marble countertop while his hand slid up my back, cupping my neck.

He paused a breath away from my lips, his eyes darting from my gaze to my mouth, his chest rising and falling in rapid rhythm. “I don’t know what’s going to happen with us, but I know I want to try.”

All I wanted to do was yell shut up and kiss me! My feminine power was really strong right now, evidently.

Liam’s voice dropped to a whisper as his thumb rubbed circles under my ear, his hands firm. “Want to try?”

I didn’t want to croak, and I knew if I opened my mouth, a frog sound would most definitely come out. So I nodded. This guy, this super-hot, super-built, ex-football-playing philanthropist who recently broke up with his movie-star ex-girlfriend wanted to date me. To kiss me. To be together and figure out where things would go.