“It was.” His grin was slow and wicked. “But you have no idea all the things I want you to say yes to.”
My nipples beaded under my top and my core clenched. Whatever he asked, I had no doubt he’d make it pleasurable.
He leaned back in the booth, watching me with a hungry gaze. “My first request is that you’re not allowed to wear underwear for the rest of the day.”
I nearly choked on my orange juice. “Liam—” Thank God there were no diners at the tables around us.
“Yes Day,” he reminded me, his eyes dancing with amusement.
I glanced around the diner. It was mostly empty—a few people at the counter and an elderly couple sharing a stack of pancakes in a booth next to the main window. No one was paying attention to us. But still.
My gaze met his, and I couldn’t deny the thrill that shot through me at the ravenous look in his eyes which had nothing to do with food.
“Okay, but I’m going to the bathroom to take them off. I’m not doing it here.”
“Wouldn’t dream of asking you to.” But his smile said he absolutely would have if he thought he could get away with it.
I slid out of the booth and walked to the restroom on slightly unsteady legs. My face was warm, my pulse already picking up speed. This was insane. We hadn’t even finished breakfast and I was already worked up.
When I returned to the table, Liam’s eyes tracked my movement with an intensity that made my thighs press together.
“Done?” he asked.
I nodded, sliding back into the booth, now hyperaware of every shift, every movement.
“Good girl.” The words were low enough that only I could hear them, and they sent a jolt of need straight through me.
We finished breakfast with his knee still pressed against mine, the contact innocent enough if anyone glanced our way but loaded with promise. Every time I shifted, the fabric of my dress brushed against bare skin, reminding me of his request.
Of what I wasn’t wearing.
Of the fact that only he knew.
When the waitress brought the check, Liam reached for it before I could.
“I’ve got it,” he said. Then, quieter, “Request number two. You let me take care of you today. No arguing.”
I opened my mouth to protest—I hated feeling like I couldn’t pull my own weight—but his eyebrow lifted in challenge.
Right. Yes Day.
“Fine,” I said. “But I’m keeping track.”
“You can try.” He tossed cash on the table and slid out of the booth, offering me his hand to help me up. It was a friendly gesture he’d done a thousand times—nothing anyone would look twice at—but when his fingers wrapped around mine, his thumb brushed across my palm in a way that made my breath catch.
We spent the morning wandering through town—browsing Riverside Books, grabbing coffees at The Meadowbrook Mug, stopping to pet a dog outside the hardware store. To anyone watching, we were just two friends killing time on a summer Saturday. Liam held the bookstore door open for me the same way he’d done a hundred times whenDrew was with us—but this time, his hand found the small of my back, and his thumb traced a slow circle lower until he was just at the top of my butt, a touch that was far too intimate for only friends if anyone caught it.
I shot him a look and he returned it with the most innocent smile I’d ever seen on a man who was absolutelynotinnocent.
At the coffee shop, he handed me my latte and let his fingers drag across mine, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. Like he wasn’t setting my body on fire with every touch filled with the promise of more to come.
“Request number three,” he murmured as we walked past the old movie theater. “Tell me what you’re thinking right now. And be honest.”
I shot him a look. “That’s your request? Conversation?”
“Honest conversation,” he corrected. “No telling me what you think I want to hear.”
That was harder than it sounded. I’d spent my whole life editing myself, trimming down my thoughts and feelings to make them more palatable. More manageable. Lesstoo much.
