Liam studied me for a moment, and time seemed to slow and stretch when our gazes locked.
What the fuck was happening to me?
Awkwardly, he cleared his throat and said, “Maybe one day, I’ll tell you about them. Now”—he gestured toward the exit, and I gratefully led the way into the warmer showroom—“what do you say to dinner at Granny’s? We need to get you warmed up.”
“Oh, you really don’t have to—” I began to protest, but he cut me off.
“I want to,” he assured me. “Plus, I want to give that driver of yours a piece of my mind.”
I chuckled, not bothering to tell him no. Though he didn’t intimidate me, Liam was…imposing. Maybe he’d scare the dweeb enough to never leave me high and dry again.
“On one condition,” I said.
“What’s that?”
“I’m buying.”
“No.”
“Liam,” I warned.
“Ladies don’t pay. I can’t accept that.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like this is a date. Consider it payback for helping me tonight.”
“I’d do that for free.”
I gaped at him. Fuck, he had to stop saying things like that to me. It was giving me all kinds of ideas, taking my mind down paths I wasn’t allowed to walk where this man was concerned.
“Liam.”
Sensing he was on the receiving end of that signature Delatou stubbornness—and rightly so—he deflated slightly. “Fine.”
I grinned widely, pleased I’d gotten my way. Then I stepped into the office to grab my coat and keys. With the cooler sealed tightly, I made quick work of my closing routine: powering down the POS system, flipping all the lights off and lowering the blinds on the bay windows out front, then ushering Liam onto the street before I set the alarm and locked up behind me.
There wasn’t much crime to speak of in Apple Blossom Bay, but I’d just received a delivery of thousands of dollars worth of flowers, and I wasn’t taking any chances.
I stuffed my hands deep in my pockets as he walked up to Granny’s, the silence between me and Liam companionable. We knew that quiet would evaporate the second we pushed into the old tavern. The residents of Apple Blossom Bay happily and raucously enjoyed their Thursday night dinner, and I swore every set of eyes in the room was on us as Tanya, the owner, brought us to a booth in the back corner.
I couldn’t decide if it was because Liam was notoriously reclusive, or because we’d shown up together.
Likely both.
“Drinks?” she asked, glancing curiously between us.
“I’ll have the ale on tap,” Liam said.
Tanya nodded, having been at her job so long she no longer needed to even write it down. “And for you, El?”
“Can I have hot chocolate with a shot of Rumchata?” I asked, rubbing my hands up and down my arms. “I’m still freezing.”
“Coming right up,” she said, leaving us with menus as she sped away toward the bar.
I’d been here enough times over the years that I no longer needed to look to know what I’d order, but I liked to peruse anyway, simply to see if Tanya had changed anything up since I’d last been in. She rarely did, operating on the if-it-ain’t-broke-don’t-fix-it mentality, but I liked to check.
Then it occurred to me that Liam may not be nearly as familiar with the place as I was.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table as I whispered, “Have you ever been here?”
