Love Handles (Oakland Hills #1)(73)

He rolled his eyes but gave an embarrassed, boyish smile, and she felt her heart swell in her chest. “You have cute teeth too,” he said, and brushed his lips along hers. He slipped his tongue past the seam of her mouth and licked and twisted inside her, and she forgot about her heart and had dark, thoughtless thoughts that began low in her body and ended lower.

“Not here,” he said, voice deep. He tried to move into the house, but she stopped him with another embrace, savoring the sound of his pounding heartbeat, wishing he was somebody else, somebody she could keep.

She sighed and looked past his shoulder. “You better go. My mother will be here any minute.”

Liam buried his face in her hair. “Let’s both ditch our mothers,” he said. “Want to catch a movie?”

“You mean, like a date?”

He lowered his lips to her ear. “Too fast for you? We could have sex first, if you're not ready.”

She slipped her hand down the outside of his jeans until she found the patch pocket and nestled her hand inside, enjoying the curve of his butt. Her head spun and her lips felt dry, so she licked them, noticing how his gaze tracked the motion of her tongue—

Her mother's white Lexus SUV pulled into the driveway, blasting three long, impatient honks.

“Oh, my God,” Bev said, spinning out of Liam's arms. “Go. Go! Before she sees you.”

“Too late,” Liam said roughly. Chest heaving, he moved away from her another step, shoving his hands in his pockets. The driver’s side door popped open, Beyoncé blaring, then the car fell silent. He said under his breath, “So what’s our story? I came over for a cup of sugar?”

“I was kind of wondering that myself.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m your top VP. Make something up.”

Gail walked around the hood, pale hair flowing back behind her head in the wind, and scowled, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s freezing!” Then, seeing Bev wasn’t alone, she took in Liam’s good looks with a slow, head-to-toe perusal and stopped dead. Bev felt her face turn red.

“Cup of sugar,” Bev muttered. “I’ll go get it.”

“Wait. It gets worse.” He jerked his head to the side. “Here comes another one.”

She glanced over his shoulder and saw Trixie trotting over with a herd of her miniature dogs, waving both hands like windshield wipers in a downpour. “Ahoy there!”

Bev waved back and, unable to think of anything else to do, laughed.

“Really, Bev,” Gail said, coming up the stairs while she smoothed down her hair. Her eyes shifted to Liam again, and her face adopted the toothy, enthusiastic, vaguely sexy expression she used whenever the lens cap came off a nearby camera. “Hello?”

“Mom, this is Liam Johnson, from Fite. His mother lives next door,” Bev paused, covering her mouth to stifle a giggle. “Liam, this is Gail, my mother.”

“Really, Bev.” Gail studied Liam for another long moment before she held out her hand to him, fingers limp.

“Hello.” Liam managed to take her hand in his and release it without making it obvious she had made him do all the work. “Pardon me, I was just leaving. Beverly, thank you for the signature.” Then he patted his chest as though he had tucked an important contract inside.

Trixie led the dogs up onto the sidewalk and marched up the driveway, not hesitating as she maneuvered around the Lexus and trotted up the steps to the porch to join them. “How wonderful. More mouths to feed.”

Bev heard a low, pained grunt coming from Liam’s direction.

“Signature?” Gail asked. “For what? And why are we all standing out here in the cold? Is there another problem with the locks?”

Giving the dogs the pleasure of sniffing at everyone’s ankles, Trixie came up to Liam’s side and beamed at Bev’s mother. “You must be Gail Roche. Here I told your daughter you were dead. Obviously not! My goodness, you look fifteen.” She held up her hands to her neck and pinched the flap of skin under her chin. “I call this my turkey wattle. Without it I’d look twenty years younger, but still not as pretty as you. My goodness.”

Liam’s eyes were closed, and Bev saw the muscles in his jaw twitch. Gail, softened by the compliment, smiled at Trixie then grabbed the handle on the front door and pushed it open.

“Please excuse me,” Gail said. “I’ve been on the road all day and my blood sugar is low. Beverly?”

“But that’s why I came over,” Trixie said. “I didn’t know you were here, of course—that’s quite a shock, actually, since in all these years I’ve never met you. But Liam disappeared again and I didn’t want them to think I didn’t know what was going on. Not that I’m going to make a fuss, but I hate secrets. Don’t you, Gail? Such a waste of energy, and ultimately so destructive.”

Twisting around in the doorway, Gail frowned at her and Bev. “Really, Beverly,” she said, annoyed but uncomprehending. She smiled tightly and looked into the house. “Isn’t Kate here? Kate!”

“We’ll be going now.” Liam took his mother’s arm and tried to lead her down the steps.

“Not without insisting everyone comes over for dinner. Are you a vegetarian, Gail?”

“No, but—”