Love Handles (Oakland Hills #1)(84)

“Add ‘hell or high water’ and you’ve got me, too.”

“We’re practically the same person.”

She smiled, feeling warm.

He grabbed the rolling rack and rearranged the samples. “Especially when you consider we agreed on almost every design question that came up today.”

Neither spoke for a minute. The sound of San Francisco traffic filtered through the walls. “For the record I wish I didn’t find exercise so boring. It probably would be good for me.”

“You might as well say you find life boring. ‘Exercise’ is a massive overgeneralization.”

“All right. All exercise I’ve ever tried is too boring to endure.”

His smile fell. “If I could swim six hours straight outside in November with a head cold, then get up and do it again every day for ten more years, you can move your body for twenty minutes every once in a while.” Then he tilted his head and let his gaze rake down over her torso, making her pulse skip.

Undecided about how to respond to the raw sexual interest in his eyes, she pushed to her feet and gathered a stack of binders to hold over her chest. “How could you have done all of that if you hated it?”

“I was a kid. I wasn’t given a choice.”

“But at some point you were old enough to rebel.”

He wasn’t looking at her anymore, and said nothing.

“What was driving you?”

Liam shoved the rack, heavy with samples, out the door. “Can you get the rest? I don’t want the others seeing it until after we know how it goes over in Minneapolis.”

Touched a nerve, did I? She grabbed more to add on to her stack of binders and sketches and hurried after him. “There must have been something about it that kept you going.” She lengthened her stride to catch up. “You could have traveled and partied without working so hard all those years.”

He kicked the door to his office wide open and rolled the rack inside. “Trying to psychoanalyze me, Bev?”

“No, I—” Pausing in the doorway, she rearranged the heavy stack of paper in her arms and waited for him to turn around and look at her. “Maybe a little. Was it something to do with your dad?”

The room fell silent. After a moment, he said flatly, “Did my mother tell you that?”

Surprised by the turn in his mood, she shook her head and continued walking into the room to set the things down on his desk. “Lucky guess. At dinner she mentioned he could be difficult.”

“Yeah. Well.” He moved over to the door. “Wait here while I go get the rest of the stuff so nobody sees it Monday and starts asking questions.”

He was gone. She sank down into a chair, aching to know more but aware it had been a very long day. When he came back in with the rolls of fabric in his arms, she got to her feet. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried. Go home and get some sleep.”

He set down the fabric behind the door and came over to where she stood at the desk, gaze sliding over her body from head to toe. Looking deep into her eyes, he brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers, the corner of his mouth in a faint smile. “It’s not that late.”

Her throat tightened. For a moment she enjoyed the feel of his large, warm hand against her skin. “You’re trying to distract me.”

He moved closer, so that the hot length of him was flush against her body. “No shit.”

“Why is it so hard to talk about your father?”

He dipped his head and breathed a kiss along her temple. “Why is it so hard for you to stop talking?”

She smiled. Melted against him. “How old were you when—”

His hand came up under her sweater and rested in the small of her back, holding her firmly and still against him. “If you kiss me I’ll tell you all about it.”

Trying to overcome the building desire low in her body, Bev tilted her head up and gave him a quick peck on the chin. “There. How old?”

Chuckling, he shook his head and shoved his knee between her legs while his hand kept her body hard against his. “Younger than I am now.”

“Stop—” Her words faltered when his other hand went down over her ass and pulled her up along his hard thigh and the ridge of his erection through his jeans. “I’m guessing you were—early twenties—and Ed hired you—Oh!”

His hand unbuttoned her jeans, slid down the zipper, and then the denim was down at her knees. She felt cold air on her thighs and his fingers between her legs stroking, searching, and penetrating. His mouth came down hard on hers and then his tongue was there, demanding and hot in her mouth, skillfully teasing her lips apart while he bent her back over the desk.

Her eyes closed, and the black pool of desire swept her down, circling deeper with his touch, and she forgot what she was saying to enjoy the shimmering fire along her skin. Someone cried out.

“Hush,” he said softly. “Don’t want security to get curious.”

She tensed. “Security?”

“Kidding,” he said, kissing her neck. He trailed his fingers down her ribs and stroked the curve of her hip, his voice falling so low she could barely hear him. “You are so damn sexy. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Liam—” She tried to sit up, but he held her.

“All day, all night, all the time. I’m losing my mind.” He nuzzled his head against hers.