Sunday evening, I park behind Liam’s SUV in the driveway after our shift. I’m already thinking about the leftover chili in the fridge. I’m sure Liam is way too tired to cook tonight and that’s absolutely fine.
He’s already inside the house by the time I enter. I tug off my jacket, hang it up in the hall closet, and go to find Liam in the kitchen. I expect to see him rummaging in the fridge, trying to decide what to do for dinner, instead he’s sitting at the kitchen table.
“You want me to reheat some chili for you too?” I ask, heading toward the refrigerator.
“What if I told you we don’t have to worry about making dinner tonight?” Liam asks casually.
I frown. “Are you not hungry?”
“No, I’m starving.” He laughs. “But Mom invited us over for a spaghetti dinner. You in?”
I blink at him. “She invited me to a family dinner?” That probably means my favorite person Kara will be there. I’m not sure I have the energy to face her tonight.
He must see something in my expression because he stands and approaches. “Before you say no, Kara won’t be there.”
“Really?” I frown. “Why would your mom invite me and not Kara?”
“Kara has a work thing down in Silver Creek tonight.” He shrugs. “Besides, Mom likes you. I told you that before. Figures you wouldn’t believe me.”
Something about the suddenness of this invite makes me suspicious. “When did your mom invite us?”
“A few days ago.” He avoids my gaze, suddenly fascinated by his fingernails. “On Thanksgiving, actually.”
I huff. “And you’re only now telling me?”
He finally meets my gaze, looking sheepish. “I was waiting for the right moment.”
I narrow my eyes. “I’m not buying it. You thought dropping it on me last minute wouldn’t give me time to come up with an excuse about why I couldn’t go.”
“That too.” He gives a crooked smile. “Come on. It’s just my parents. No crowd, no party. Just delicious spaghetti and good conversation.”
“I’m fine with leftovers.”
He sighs. “Oh, come on, Jude. Why the hell would you turn down a home-cooked spaghetti dinner at my parents’ house for leftovers?”
“Because I’m tired and I don’t feel like socializing.” While that’s true, a small part of me would like to go. The warmth and hospitality of his family on Thanksgiving is still fresh in my mind.
He looks skeptical and I expect him to try and badger me into going. But instead, he leans closer and softly says, “Can’t you just taste it? The tangy sauce? The fresh garlic bread? The homemade pasta?” He kisses his fingertips. “I guarantee itwould be the best spaghetti dinner you’ll ever have, Jude. And that’s not even counting the fantastic company.”
I give a grudging smile, although I take a step back because when he gets too close, his scent makes my heart race. Since Thanksgiving, I’ve tried really hard not to get too physically close to Liam. I said way too much out on that damn porch, and I embarrassed myself.
“I assume you think you’re the fantastic company?” I ask.
“Well, yeah.” He grins. “Come on, say yes. I mean, I’m going either way. I’m not turning down a spaghetti dinner I don’t have to cook. But Mom will be sad if you don’t come too.”
I sigh. “I really am tired.”
“I know, so am I. But we need to eat.” His voice is coaxing.
I bite my lip, studying his hopeful face. “Is she going to ask me a bunch of personal questions? Is that why she invited me?”
He grimaces. “She might. She wants to know more about you.”
“God, Liam,” I whine. “I’m not good at talking about myself.”
“You did great on Thanksgiving.”
I wince. “I was drinking on Thanksgiving. Heavily.”
