Love Handles (Oakland Hills #1)(27)

Trixie reached her hand out to him. “Let me see those first.”

He frowned, looking suspicious, but handed them to her. She clutched them in her fist and addressed Bev. “Promise me you won’t go looking for a motel,” she said. “I’ve got five bedrooms here and four are empty because my children would rather live in an ugly high-rise in San Francisco rather than with their own widowed mother.”

“Uh—” Bev said, absorbing the implied loss of Liam’s father with the awkwardness of the invitation. “That’s very kind of you—”

Liam reached over to take the keys away from her, but Trixie twisted away, hopped on a chair and lifted her arms and the keys over her head. “Promise.” She towered over the room. “You wouldn’t want to be the cause of an unfortunate family altercation.”

“But—” Bev glanced at Liam.

“Mom,” he said, voice calm. “She has a house next door. All she needs are the keys that you are, for some unknown, scary reason, not giving to her.”

Bev was more smitten than scared. “Thanks for the invitation.” She tilted her head back to address her. “But I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Liam put his arms around his mother’s waist and hauled her off the chair. “Honestly, Mom, I don’t know why I don’t have you locked up.”

“Hah!” Trixie held her head high while he grunted and dropped her onto the floor. “As if California cared enough to have mental health care facilities for those in need.”

“Perhaps a vacation to Utah, then,” Liam said. “Keys.”

Any foil to Liam was a friend of hers. “I promise not to go to a motel,” she said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, hon.” Trixie smoothed down her apron and tossed the keys to Liam. “See you later.” She turned back to the stove and began to hum and stir.

“Shall we?” Liam asked, hand extended towards the door. He made no move to give her the keys but she didn’t want to argue in front of his mother. She followed him out past his sister and her unhappy boyfriend out into the night and over to her grandfather’s front door.

“I like your mom,” Bev said.

“Everyone does.” He pulled out the ring of keys, selected one swiftly and fitted it into the lock. “But you have to be careful she doesn’t take over. She adopts people.” He twisted the key, pushed his shoulder against the door, and stopped.

Bev sucked in her breath.

“Huh,” Liam said.

“You sure that was the one?”

He turned to face her. “Someone must have changed the locks.”

“But the cleaning service didn’t have any trouble getting in.”

“When was that?”

“I’m not sure. Friday? Thursday?”

“My bet would be Thursday. That would’ve given Ellen all day Friday to have a locksmith over.”

“You think Ellen—”

He was close to her, but she couldn’t see his expression in the dark. “You’ve made a promise to my mother.”

She peered at him, wishing for light. Was he laughing at her? “Why don’t you check the other keys?”

He was laughing. She’d never seen him laugh before, and the creases in the corners of her eyes and the deep chuckle in his chest took her breath away. She stared.

“Sorry,” he said, sobering. He tried the other two keys. No luck. “I don’t suppose you have the garage door opener? She probably didn’t have time to reprogram it.”

“No garage door opener.”

“Pity.” He leaned his back against the door, crossed his arms over his chest, and said in a cheerful voice, another new side to him she found alarmingly human, “Would you like me to try the side door—the real one?”

“What is so funny?”

He ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Maybe just that your aunt has caused me a lot of grief over the years.”

“So you’re happy to see someone else suffer?”

“Just someone related to her.”

Annoyed with how her heart melted like cheese to see a smile on his face, she held out her hand. “Let me try.”

He nodded, still looking amused. “Of course.” One of his hands came up under hers and held it steady while the other pressed the hard keys into her palm. Then he folded her fingers around it and squeezed. “Be my guest.”

Her heart jumped, just because of that one, quick touch of his hands. She jerked free and strode down the left side of the house, berating her body for reacting to him.

Her body was a bad listener. In college she’d learned not to trust her body’s judgment, the way it got her in one relationship after another with guys who had no interest in the rest of her. And every time, her heart had gone where her body led, got naked with the rest of her, and then, too stupid to know everything is temporary, would break.

Damn. She was going to have to get out of Trixie Johnson’s offer of hospitality gracefully. Because as she feared, none of the keys worked on the side door either, and Bev had to admit the likelihood that Ellen—through malice or misunderstanding—had changed the locks.

Liam was waiting for her up near her car when she returned. “The Claremont is the closest hotel,” he said. “No reason for the heiress to stay in a dump.”