Liam: Branded Brothers (13 page)

“It’s a little crowded in here. You want to head upstairs?”
Liam asked, sliding onto the stool next to her. She raised her eyebrows at him and
took a bite of her fried pickle.

“I take it that you like the food since you’ve been inhaling
it since I set it down.” He laughed and stood up, nodding his head toward the
back door. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“I don’t know…” she started as she picked up her plate and
wine glass. “After that conversation, you sound more dangerous than I thought.
Drug smugglers?”

“That’s nothing,” he said over his shoulder as he led his
way through the crowd. He nodded and said hi to at least a dozen people by the
time they got to the back door. Charla smiled politely at the bitchy stares
from other women. She was waiting for the plate of food to be flipped into her chest
or to catch a nasty remark from one of them, but they made it safely to the
back unscathed. Liam dug in his pocket and pulled out a key.

“What the hell was that all about?” Charla asked.

“What?” Liam asked innocently.

“The women,” she replied. “I thought I’d get my eyes scratched
out for a second.”

He laughed as he held the door open for her. “It’s all your
imagination. Welcome to my lovely home. After you.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” she replied as she ducked under his
arm and made her way up the stairs. The women in the bar were
jealous
of
her. A small ounce of satisfaction crept onto her face, and then she did
something she didn’t intend to do. She let her hips shake a little more than
they usually would. With each step forward, she wondered if Liam’s eyes were
ogling her from behind.

He let out a low whistle, letting her know he approved.

Chapter 7

“So this is it?” Charla said as they
walked into the open space of Liam’s loft apartment. He flicked on the lights,
illuminating high ceilings and arched doorways. The whole space was neatly
organized and tidy without a single item out of place. The living room
furniture was a clean and modern grey herringbone pattern with colorful artwork
displayed above it. “Not bad for a bachelor pad above a bar.”

“I’m glad I could meet your low stamp of approval,” he
replied, pointing through the living room. “Table’s through here.”

“I’m kidding, please don’t tell me you did it yourself,” she
said, turning to him. “I’m leaving if you do.”

“I didn’t.” He laughed, holding up his hand. She tilted her
head and narrowed her eyes. “Honest. I didn’t do it. It was Gina downstairs.
She’s going to school to be an interior decorator. She was disgusted with my
leather couches. She held a design intervention with me.”

“Thank God.” She followed him to the table in the kitchen.
She set down her plate and glass and sat down in the chair Liam pulled out of
her. “I don’t know how much more I could handle.”

“You’re not used to people doing things for you, are you?”
he asked, sitting down next to her. He pulled the envelope from the back of his
pants and threw it on the table.

“Not at all,” she replied, taking a bite into the wrap. She
closed her eyes and chewed slowly. She wasn’t sure if it was the best wrap
she’d ever had because Liam had made it or because she was so hungry. Either
way, she wanted to savor the taste. She finally swallowed and opened her eyes.
“You going to open that envelope?”

He stared at her with curled lips. “You like the wrap?”

“Amazing,” she replied, taking another drink of wine. She
set down the glass and realized it was almost empty.
How did that happen?
She was taking only sips. Liam popped up and opened the cupboard, looking
through bottles of wine. “No, I’m good. I still have to drive home tonight.”

He ignored her and took down a bottle of wine and another
glass. He was already turning the corkscrew before she could protest again. Her
eyes caught the yellow envelope on the table in front of her.

“No, I’m not going to open that envelope tonight,” Liam
answered her question before she could ask. He pulled the cork out of the
bottle. “No work tonight, just play.”

“Play?”

“You know what I mean,” he said as he walked over with the
bottle.

She shook her head.

“Just another drink. I don’t know if I want you driving home
alone tonight anyway. The thought of you staying at the cottage by yourself…”
he started.

“It’s fine,” she replied, waving her hand. “I’m comfortable
there, plus I’ve stayed there by myself since Jack died.”

“It has to be lonely out in the middle of nowhere like
that,” he replied, studying her with a burn in his eyes. She put her hand over
her glass so he couldn’t fill it. He paused, holding the bottle upright. “It’s
a bottle from my parent’s restaurant, aged to perfection. We have to drink it.”

“Well, if that’s not a guilt trip…” She moved her hand and
let him pour a glass. He moved to his glass, grinning the entire time. “I guess
you do always get what you want.”

“I do.” Liam took a bite of his wrap and chewed between
smiles. She couldn’t believe she was wrapping herself around his finger.
Don’t
fall for him,
she reminded herself.
You’re not ready for this
.

“And I didn’t mean for the bottle of wine to be a guilt
trip,” he added. “I’ve just been waiting for the right moment to open it.”

“And this is it? Me, shoving my mouth full of this delicious
food?” Charla replied, putting her napkin in her lap. She hardly considered
this a “right moment” by any stretch.

“I think our first dinner together is cause for
celebration,” he replied, chewing thoughtfully. “Plus, we found Ronan, and it’s
only a matter of time before we find Brody. The last twenty-four hours have
been mind-blowing. I never guessed a beautiful woman sitting at my bar with an
envelope could change my life like you have. But you did.”

“Like a hot bed of trouble,” Charla replied, taking another
drink. The wine was going down easy, and she could feel herself beginning to
lose the wall she was trying to keep up all day. She slid her empty plate into
the middle of the table and placed her napkin on it. “That’s what I am.
Trouble.”

“I like trouble if you haven’t noticed. I’ve got a case full
of guns in my bedroom if you need more proof.”

Charla’s head fogged and her cheeks flushed at the mention
of his bedroom. All she could think about was his soft lips and his hand on her
ass. She wanted him to do much more than that. She wanted him to explore every
inch of her body.

Damn it.

They’d only known each other for twenty-four hours. She was
the last person to be hopping into bed with a new man. It had taken her six
months to sleep with Rex. One-night stands weren’t in the Charla Taylor
vocabulary, especially ones with Irish gunslingers. She could hear Jill’s voice
in her head,
it’s not a one-night stand if you do it again, Charla.

He took a drink of wine and then swirled his glass around
before setting it down. “Mom was right. This was worth waiting for.” He cleared
his throat and continued, “So, tell me about your family. We’ve spent all day
looking for and talking about mine. What’s your family like?”

“Well,” she stuttered. She hated talking about her family,
if she could call it that. She never really considered Dotti to be a mom. She
was her biological mother, but Charla couldn’t find it in her heart to think of
her as
mom.
Real moms didn’t abandon their kids. Real moms didn’t put
their kids into a situation like Charla had to endure with her stepfather. “I
wish I would have been adopted like you.”

“That bad?” He stopped chewing and looked up.

“That bad. Alcoholic mother. Never knew my father. Abusive
step-father died when I was fifteen, thank God for that small victory.” She put
her hand on her wine glass but didn’t pick it up. She felt a strange sudden
urge to divulge her secret to Liam. She hadn’t felt this sudden need to purge
in years. Every time she did, no matter if there was a foot of snow on the
ground, she’d go hiking at Lake Woods and scream into the empty forest “I LET
HIM DIE.” The scream would disappear into the woods, just like her urge to
release her secret.

Liam stared at her with sympathetic eyes as he reached his
hand toward hers. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” she replied, clearing her throat and choking back
the wave of emotion threatening to spill over.
Keep it together.
The
last thing she wanted to do was turn into a weeping mess in front of this
gorgeous man who, for some strange reason, was incredibly interested in her.

“Your mom still drink?”

“Yeah, she’s been in and out of rehab, but nothing seems to
help. She can’t seem to get her act together,” she replied. “I was more
responsible at the age of ten than she’s been her entire life.”

“You still talk to her?”

“I try not to,” she said.

“Well, I might just know the person she could talk to,” he
said. “My friend is amazing. She works at a free center downtown. You want her
card?”

“I don’t know if anything will help her at this point.”

“I’ll give you her card, in case,” he said. “If you ever
find the right moment.”

She nodded her head and replied softly. “Sure.”

“I know you’ve been through a lot in the last few days,” he
said in a soothing voice. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy watching Jack die.”

She closed her eyes, trying to push the nightmare out of her
head. “Yeah, it was harder than I thought it would be.” She opened her eyes to
see Liam moving toward her. “But he warned me the day I met him that I’d have
to watch him die. I guess I signed up for it.”

“Thank you for taking care of Jack,” he said, squeezing her
hand and leaning in closer. His voice was low and sexy. “And thank you for
bringing me his letter. You’ve changed my life in more ways than you could
imagine.”

“It was just paper,” she whispered, feeling the last bit of resistance
she’d been clinging onto fall to her feet. Although she was dressed, she felt
completely and utterly exposed. She felt naked, right in front of him.

“It’s more than that.” He ran a finger across her lips,
making her body quiver. “I’m cashing in my rain check now because I get what I
want. And what I want is you, Charla Taylor.”

Her breath caught in her throat as he ran his finger along
her jaw and down her neck. The mere touch of his finger sent her body into a
frenzy. This was going to happen. Liam was going to get what he wanted. But she
didn’t care. She wanted it, too. She needed to feel his lips on hers. She
tilted her head, cradling to his touch. Then he leaned in and met her lips with
a sweet and fiery kiss her body craved. Their lips worked against each other,
fast, as he placed his hand on the back of her head. He held it there only for
a second and then traced his fingers lightly down her back, moving them toward
the straps of her tank top. His touch was sweet and soft, sending shivers
through her.

She let out a soft moan as she leaned in and grabbed his
arm, his bicep harder than she anticipated. She broke her lips away from his
and whispered, “I want this, Liam.”

“I know you do,” he murmured back. Then he pressed his lips
against hers, igniting another passionate kiss between them. He moved his hand
to her lower back and then gently nudged her toward him until she was at the
edge of her chair, their legs interlocked. She pulled away for a second to
crawl onto his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist and chair.

“That’s more like it,” he said, finding her lips again. They
explored each other, their kisses wet and warm against each other. Her chest
swelled as she gasped for air, her body flooding with heat. “I want all of you,
in my bedroom.”

He lifted her off of him and stood up. Then he grabbed her
hand, interlocking his fingers with hers as he guided her into his bedroom. He
stopped at the edge of the bed and pulled her onto him, falling together softly
on the bed.

She laid on top of him as he played with the straps of her
tank top again, tugging and twisting them between his fingers. Then he grabbed
the bottom of the tank top and gently tugged it. Charla obliged and sat up,
raising her arms as he lifted it over her head.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered as he sat up to plant a kiss
on the top of her lace bra. She silently thanked Jill for convincing her to
wear it. He explored her chest, running his lips along the lace, making her
nipples hard beneath her bra. Then she grabbed the bottom of his shirt and
pulled it gently over his head, exposing the patterns of ink on his chest. She
ran her fingers along the tattoos, feeling the heat of his skin beneath her
fingertips.

He paused and let her study his chest. She traced her
fingers along the interlocking lines on his heart. “It’s beautiful.”

He flexed his pectoral muscles, making her breath catch. His
lips curled into a smile. “All those hours in the gym are worth it for that.”

“I bet,” she murmured. “Does every tattoo have a story
behind it?”

“They do,” he replied. “I don’t get a tattoo unless it has
meaning.”

“Tell me about this one.” She bent down and kissed the
tilted army helmet on the other side of his chest.

“You sure you want to hear about it? It’s going to be hard
to keep my lips off you,” he said, running his fingers along her back.

“I do,” she said as she lightly kissed another tattoo. “I’ll
keep kissing, you talk.”

“Okay,” he breathed. “I’ll agree to one. That’s all I can
hold out for.”

Charla let out a small laugh before she kissed the wings
near the top of his chest.

“The helmet is for my buddy. We were on night patrol in a
shitty town in Afghanistan five years ago, just the two of us. It was like any
of the other patrol nights. We’d done it at least two dozen times before. We
were joking around like we always did when my buddy saw a movement behind this
fence. He motioned me toward him when the gunfire started. I remember seeing
the flashes light up the sky and the popping noises ring in my ears. Then I
felt a sear through my right arm.” He touched the small scar on his right
bicep. She leaned against her elbow, sitting up lightly. “It was only a graze,
but John dove and knocked me down to the ground. I called for back-up while he
got in position to fire back. He got off a few rounds before he was hit. I got
a couple more shots in before they stopped. Back-up came a few minutes later,
but the shot had hit him in the neck.”