Love Handles (Oakland Hills #1)(60)

Before he could sit down and get some work done, he heard activity in the empty office on the other side of him. “Damn it, Bev,” he muttered, and went out to see Rachel rolling a cart stacked high with binders into the room. She looked up at him and grinned fearlessly.

“She’s going to be our boss in a couple years,” Bev said behind him.

Liam swung around. “You’re taking both my offices?”

“Your offices? They were empty.”

“For a reason.”

She rolled her eyes. “For a jock, you’re not much of a team player.”

“For a couch potato, you’re quite a busybody.”

Laughing, she touched his arm. “Why, Liam—I think you’re finally beginning to understand me.”

He gave her his hardest glare, but she just smiled and walked away. With a limp. “You’re injured.”

“Now maybe you’ll believe I’m not like designed like the rest of you. One little walk and I’m broken.”

“Cut that out.” He got ahead of her and grabbed her shoulders, making her face him. “You just dove in too fast.”

She tensed under his grip and looked down at his hand on her shoulder. Suddenly it was like they were in the dressing room again and her body was pressing up against his. He softened his grip on her shoulders, feeling the heat of her body through her dress.

She wriggled free. “I went one block.”

“It was the sprinting to interrupt a homicide that did it,” he said, his voice rough. “If your sister hadn’t assaulted me you would have been fine. Don’t give up. It’s great. Really.”

“I knew you would gloat.”

“This is gloating?” He drew back. “You want gloating, I’ll give you gloating. I knew you couldn’t do it. I knew all your bravado about hating exercise was just a lie. You’re just too conceited.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Conceited?”

“Can’t be the best, won’t do it.” He shrugged and went over to carry Rachel’s computer monitor for her. “You like to be on top of things. That power-thing again.”

“That is not true.”

“Put it off to the left,” Rachel said, coming in and caressing the vast expanse of oak desktop with her palms. “This thing’s bigger than my bed. I have room for two computers.”

Liam looked at the desk with new eyes. Bed, he thought then frowned at Bev. There was no reason she should be wearing dresses again. The only people charmed by perfect, oversized breasts were straight men like him, and he was tired of the distraction. “What did you bake today?”

“No time for that. I bought BurnBars.” She strode out. “Maybe that will shut you up.”

The fantasy of her napping on the desk vanished. He hurried after her into her new office. “Who told you?”

She frowned. “Told me what?”

Her confusion stopped him. Smoothing his hand down the front of his shirt, he took a step back. “Never mind—my mother must have told you.”

“Liam, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She gestured at a pile of small boxes on her desk. “If you don’t like BurnBars, don’t eat them. I had a coupon.”

It was just a coincidence. For a moment he had thought Darrin was making trouble, knowing how much he hated any reminders of his father. His overreaction embarrassed him. “Sorry. My dad invented the BurnBar. Back in the early eighties.”

“Your father?”

“Sold it all to Kraft.” So he could devote all his waking and sleeping hours to getting his son to the Olympics. “That’s how we ended up living in a fancy house in the Berkeley Hills next to Ed. Before that we had a duplex in the flats near the freeway.”

Bev glanced over at her new desk, where the cases of BurnBars formed a small pyramid in one corner. “I kind of like them.”

“So does everyone else.” He went over and picked up a box. “I’ll take some to Engineering for you. They’ll love you even more.”

She met his eyes, and they looked at each other for a moment. Then she smiled. “Wait until they see what else I have planned.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“Yes, you do. Follow me.”

He didn’t have time. The red light on his phone was blinking, the cell in his pocket vibrated every five minutes with a phone mail reminder, he had a meeting ten minutes ago, and three days of email was still in unopened bold font in his in-box.

And Bev was wearing a dress. “What did you do now?” He sighed, following her into the hall, watching her hips sway, hearing the blood rush in his ears.

“Don’t worry. You’ll like it.”

That’s what I’m afraid of.



Bev tightened the sash around her waist and tried to reach the elevator without limping. She felt his eyes on her back like radiation.

“Did you ice it?” Liam asked.

“I spent most of yesterday with my foot in a bucket.”

“Good,” he said. “But what about today? You should stay off of it.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you control freak.” He took her arm. “Lean on me. If you act macho you’ll just take longer to heal.”