Love Handles (Oakland Hills #1)(75)

“No reason to be shy,” Trixie told Mark in a stage whisper. “You have a lovely body.”

Mark turned his anguished eyes on Liam, who felt a little guilty for laughing. “Go ahead,” Liam said. “Lose the pants too. You’re lovely.”

“Trixie?” Bev called from the hallway. “Who made these monoprints? They’re amazing!”

“Do you really think so?” Trixie left her sons and joined Bev in the hallway. “I made those ages ago at the art cent—”

Liam strode over and pulled the door shut, slipped the lock he’d installed in high school, laughing. “You can count on Bev.”

Mark was staring at him. “You’ve got a thing for her.” He found an indistinguishable replacement t-shirt in the suitcase and pulled it over his head. “Don’t you?”

Liam laughter trailed off. “Yes.”

“Does she—forget it. Of course she does.”

“I slept with her. I’m trying to repeat the experience.”

Mark crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you love her?”

Liam laughed. “Jesus, Mark. I only met her a few weeks ago.”

“That’s long enough. I would know.”

Unfortunately Mark fell in love as often as Liam fell in bed. “You need to protect yourself better.”

“I don’t understand you,” Mark said. “The one thing I want and don’t have a clue how to get, and you—you have to fight it off with a stick. Like it’s a disease you don’t want to catch.”

“Not a disease. More like exposure to a virus that once you’ve got the antibodies, you test positive for the rest of your life. I’m just—delaying that particular inoculation.”

“It’s not fair,” Mark said. He walked over to the mirror on the back of the closet door and scowled at himself, turning this way and that, licking his palm and smoothing down his hair. “I’m such a catch.”

Liam walked over and tucked the label of his brother’s t-shirt out of sight. Smiling, he rested his hands on his shoulders and squeezed. “Especially when you don’t do your laundry for months. And spend all your time online. Chicks really dig that.”

Mark jerked his elbow back to jab him in the ribs, then walked over to the door. “You said the sister’s nice?”

“That’s what I said.” Liam followed him out into the hall, which his mother had already emptied to regroup for her next attack, and walked down the stairs thinking about viruses.



Liam’s mouth was at her ear. “Want another drink to deaden the pain?”

The feel of his breath made her jump. Beer, wine, Liam. She looked up into his warm brown eyes and held up her empty wine glass. “Just water this time, please.” She glanced at her mother at the other end of the table next to Mark. “Your poor brother.”

Liam frowned. “Don’t worry about him.”

“You do.”

“I’m his brother. You can put him out of your mind.”

She heard the jealous edge in his voice and laughed.

Kate walked in with an elfin dog in her hand and a huge grin on her face. “He likes me!”

Trixie smiled and looked over. “He’s a she, sweetheart.” She pointed a serving spoon at the little dog's underside. “No boy parts, see? All right, the chow’s all here. Thank you so much for joining us tonight. I hope you don’t mind if I’ve lit a little memorial candle for your father. We’re not religious, but I did so appreciate what he did for Liam when my husband died. He was a difficult man—my husband I mean, though your father was no saint himself, as you know—and sadly for my kids, a much better husband than a father. So I was very grateful to Ed.” She dug into the casserole, scooped up a mound of steaming tomato sauce and pasta, smiling at Gail. “Lasagna?”

Hiding her amusement at the sight of Gail's strained smile, Bev turned her head to see Mark return with a block of Parmesan. He was trying to get a good look at Kate, who had sat next to Bev and was still devoting every scrap of attention to the dog. “Hi,” he said to her, then cleared his throat. “I'm Mark. Liam's brother.”

Kate flicked her eyes over him once. “Sucks to be you,” she said, returning her attention to the dog. Mark frowned and looked at Liam, who was up to something because he shrugged but looked amused in a bad way.

Gail reached forward and took a teaspoonful of lasagna, studying it in the deliberate way she did all her food so she could record the portions in her online calorie counter. “Thank you. It's funny we should meet so quickly. Ironically, I was just talking about your son—” she tilted her head at Liam but didn't look at him, “—with my sister. Have you met my sister Ellen?”

With both hands outstretched for the salad bowl, Bev froze. “You've been talking to Ellen about Liam?” Her voice came out too loud for the table.

“Really, Bev,” Gail said, took a nibble of the lasagna, and smiled politely at Gail. “This is fabulous. Thank you. I knew it was too much to hope that Bev would prepare a decent meal. The only thing I've eaten all day is a BurnBar and Diet Coke.”

Trixie opened her mouth, then glanced at Liam and snapped it shut.

Liam passed her the Parmesan. “How’s Ellen? Her departure was so . . . sudden.”