I'm Not Charlotte Lucas(60)

“It’s getting late,” I said, smiling.

“No, it isn’t.” He closed the distance, kissing me again, and I let him for a minute before sliding my hands down to his chest and gently pushing him away.

I scrunched up my nose in apology. “I have to work in the morning.”

“I don’t like that excuse. Quit your job, and you won’t have to use it again.”

“Because that is what a reasonable, responsible adult would do . . .” after being in a relationship for four days.

Liam started for my lips again, and I squealed softly, swatting at his arms as his hold on me tightened. He nuzzled my neck. “I don’t care about reasonable, responsible adults. I just want to see you more.”

Laughing, I disentangled myself and got up, looking around for my shoes. He bent down and lifted a sandal, and I took it from him before finding the other one under the sofa.

“I’ve seen you every day this week.” Not that I was complaining. Like winning the lottery, remember?

He stood, stretching his arms high above his head. “Yeah, but never outside of this house. And always with the threat of Vera looming over us.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You think her leg is suddenly going to heal, and she’ll come downstairs and catch us making out? Then what, she’ll be mad?” She was more likely to celebrate.

He chuckled. “I just mean that I want to take you out for a real date. Maybe this weekend? I can make Spike come grandma-sit.”

“Don’t let her catch you saying that, or she’ll be furious.”

He didn’t skip a beat. “What do you say?”

Why was I hesitating? The man had been amazing for all four days of our courtship so far. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

Grabbing my phone and keys from the kitchen table, I turned to go.

“Can I walk you home?” he asked, sidling up beside me and taking my hand.

“What if someone sees us?”

He drew back. “Is it a problem if they do?”

“No. Yes . . . not really?”

“That was not a definitive answer.” Liam did not sound pleased. His mouth was set in a firm line.

I cleared my throat. “I just don’t usually tell my family about a guy in the beginning,” I said, as though starting relationships was something I did often. “I don’t want them asking all sorts of questions when I don’t really have the answers yet.”

“What kind of questions?” he asked. “Like what your boyfriend’s name is, or what he does for work? I feel like those aren’t really hard to answer.”

I paused. He’d said boyfriend. Had he realized that?

This was moving really fast, and my heart sped accordingly. But this was nothing like anything I’d felt before. Liam was like no other guy I’d dated before. Being around him was like pulling on an old, oversized sweatshirt: cozy, warm, and safe.

“Boyfriend?”

His mouth hitched up in a half-smile, his eyes searching mine. “I hope so.”

I couldn’t help but grin. Reaching up on tiptoe, I kissed him again. “Okay, boyfriend, you can take me out this weekend, and you can meet the family then.”

“Deal.”

***

Todd and Marissa avoided each other at work the next day like it was a professional sport. I tried to avoid both of them, because the last thing I wanted right now was to get caught up in their improper, inner-office romance drama. I had a schedule I needed to finish for the next fortnight—sorry, I meant two weeks. I really had to cut back on my period-piece viewing, or I might slip a word like that into a conversation with a customer and earn a funny look. Rightfully so, I’d agree.

My phone buzzed in the top drawer of my desk, and I took it out to find a text from Fernando. I glanced over my shoulder toward his desk, and he lifted his thick, dark eyebrows at me.

Fernando: Todd is on one today, am I right?

There was no right way to answer that question. Yeah, Todd was on one today, and Marissa just looked mad. But trash-talking my boss would lead nowhere good.

Me: At least you’re off work soon.

Fernando: True. Hey, do you know if I’m closing next Friday?

I checked the schedule and confirmed that I had Fernando opening that day before replying.

Me: Nope. You open.

Fernando: What about you?

I double-checked before typing a reply. I wanted to ask why he wasn’t using the inner-office chat or—even simpler—crossing the room to ask me this in person, but I just texted him back.

Me: I close next Friday.

It was only fair, since I got to open the bank this weekend. This Friday I got to leave work at four in the afternoon and prep myself for a date with Liam Connell. Swoon.

Fernando: It’s not ideal, but I guess it’s not the end of the world either. Want to go out that night?

Me: Like as friends?

Fernando: No.

Well, this was awkward.

I broke out in a sweat. At least I could blame the stuffy office, the heat pumping so hard to combat the cold front that had rolled into town over the last few days.

Didn’t he realize inner-office relationships were taboo? Corporate would not condone it. Not that it mattered what corporate would approve of, now that I had a boyfriend.

Me: I actually just started seeing someone.