Love Handles (Oakland Hills #1)(26)

“And she’ll be living next door for a little while,” Liam said roughly, putting an arm around his mother and pulling her away from the fence. “Go on back to the house. I’ll take care of this.”

“But how did she get down there?”

“It’s none of our business,” Liam said. “Ed’s gone now.”

“Just make sure none of those raccoons have snatched one of my tough guys.” She moved away. “Nice to meet you, honey. Hope we didn’t scare you.”

When she was gone, Liam leaned his hip against the fence, crossed his arms, and waited.

“The key didn’t work,” Bev said.

“How did you get down there?”

“The same way I’m going to get back.” Bev braced her hands on the fence post and threw a leg over.

“You’re lucky my mom’s got a thing for rat dogs, not Rottweilers.”

“Actually they’re kind of scarier. You don’t expect the cute little things to attack. Like a doll in a horror movie.” She ignored his stare and swung the other leg over. Unfortunately her physical prowess had waned, and she caught her toe on the rail and slumped forward, only to have Liam grab her by the arm and haul her upright on his side of the fence.

“Thanks,” she said, breathless and mortified. “I’ll be going now.”

His fingers were tight around her arm. “To where?”

“A motel, I suppose.” She pulled her arm free and began hiking back up the hill to her car.

He remained silent, back in the gloom along the fenceline, and she was grateful for it. The last thing she wanted right now was more small talk with an employee who made her feel like a child. A female child.

But then he was at her side again, effortlessly matching her determined pace. “Come with me,” he said, sounding annoyed. “We’ve got a set of keys that should work.”

“You?”

“Neighborly backup.”

She tripped. “You still live next door?” She’d assumed he was just visiting his mother.

He turned onto a brick path that led towards the large, bright house. “No. We’ve been—we were—friends with Ed since I was a kid. He was all alone, you know.” She didn’t say anything in defense, but he didn’t seem to be trying to bait her, just stating a fact.

They reached a wide front porch and went up the steps, and Bev saw Liam and his mother were not alone. Vintage R.E.M. was blasting in the living room, and a twenty-something woman in a ripped t-shirt sat in a recliner reading Organic Gardening and drinking red wine next to a guy in head-to-toe black. His face was red and angry, his gaze on the young woman.

Liam turned to Bev. “My sister April and her boyfriend . . . ” he trailed off, frowning, then shrugged. “Don’t know his name.”

The guy glanced up at them, brought a bottle of beer up to his lips, then returned to staring at April.

“Hey,” April said in greeting, barely glancing at them. She went back to her magazine as if her boyfriend weren’t there.

“The keys are in the kitchen,” Liam said. “You can come with me or wait here.”

The silent drama between April and her boyfriend made her uncomfortable, so Bev followed Liam down a hallway, looking down at her shoes, hoping she wasn’t tracking dirt over the glossy oak floors. She picked a leaf off her jacket and tucked it in a pocket.

“Bev needs Ed’s keys,” Liam said, stepping into a sunshine-hued kitchen and heading straight for a baby-blue armoire in the corner. Trixie was stirring a pot on the stove, and looked up at Bev as she entered. “Otherwise she’ll need to find a motel.”

Curious to see Liam’s mother in a well-lit kitchen, Bev noted her high cheekbones and white, pixie-cut hair. She wore a patchwork denim apron around her generous hips, hot-pink Crocs, and no makeup.

“A motel?” Trixie asked. “Why?”

“Never mind, here they are.” Liam pulled a set of keys out of the armoire’s front drawer and came back over to Bev. “But don’t try the water heater door again. These are for the actual entrances.”

She held out her hand and smiled tightly. “Thanks for the tip.”

He stared at her, not handing over the keys, while Trixie came up behind him and rested a hand on his shoulder, facing Bev. “I shouldn’t have said what I did about your poor mother. Or about you not existing. The kids come over and we open the wine and the next thing you know I’m a blathering idiot.”

“Oh, please.” Bev smiled at her. “I’m so sorry I disturbed you.”

“I’ve been disturbed for years,” Trixie said. “No need to take credit for it.”

Liam raised his eyebrows and nodded, then Trixie noticed and swatted him on his butt with a wooden spoon.

He twisted around. “Hey, you got chili on my jeans.”

Bev’s gaze slipped down to the seat of Liam’s jeans. Trixie just laughed, swatted him again, and went back to the stove. Bev dragged her attention back up to his face.

“Come back here if there’s any problem with the keys,” Trixie said. “I don’t want to hear anything about a motel.”

Bev shook her head. “No, really, it’s fine—”

“Let’s go,” Liam said.