Page 5 of Sizzle
Or me. That’s what I hear laced into his words. No, I guess I’m not. But he is the one who has been avoiding me like the plague since I’ve been back.
“Liam,” I warn because this is no place to be having this conversation.
Not only is it not appropriate for other ears, in general, but I’m still scared of the judgment I’d get. We’re so far from the time when he was my student, an actual lifetime away, really, but it’s still the mental block in my head that keeps me scared and paralyzed.
“Yeah, I know. We don’t call attention to it. Have you considered that’s why I’ve been acting like an archenemy?” He uses my words against me.
Huffing out a sigh of frustration and exhaustion because I should have just gotten a damn basket or cart for all these groceries, I finally make it to the front steps of my grandmother’s condo.
Setting down the items in my hands to take them in more reasonable loads, I turn to him. “Do you … would you come in for a drink? Let me thank you.”
Inside, I’m pleading with him to say yes. One, so we can have a conversation. But two, I just want to spend time with him. See if this ridiculously tension-filled raging inferno between us is anything or if I’ve always been imagining it.
“No.” He shakes his head tersely.
That plucks a nerve in me, sending annoyance bubbling over the edge of my calm, proper demeanor. “So we’re just going to continue to do this, circling each other and sending glares? Give each other a wide berth even though we live in the same town and have mutual friends?”
His sister-in-law, Cassandra, has become one of my closest friends in town, and she often invites me to some of the same parties or events he attends. Even his own sister, Alana, has invited me to go to a girl’s dinner with her a time or two.
“I guess so. Remember, Gabrielle, you set the rules this way, not me.” Liam shrugs defiantly.
Each time he says my name, it feels like a curse and a prayer.
It only makes me want to needle him more—I can’t help it. Poking the bear with a stick at least gets a reaction out of him, and apparently, I have a death wish when it comes to this man.
“I would have thought that in twelve years, you’d grown up and matured. I can see now that I was wrong to assume that.”
Words like that directed at anyone, much less a man I don’t know all that well and have a weird history with, are so out of character for me. I don’t speak out of line, I don’t fire comebacks or insults, and I definitely don’t ask for trouble when staring it in the face.
But something about moving back to Hope Crest and living in my grandmother’s house has stoked a fire in me. It’s brought to life this part of myself I’ve always had a leash on, and it feels damn good to express things with confidence and a little spite.
Liam’s irises are nearly black as he scowls at me. “The only thing you were wrong to assume in the first place was that you knew me at all. You decided not to, don’t rewrite history. If you had, you’d know I’ve always been the kind of man, yes, man, who knows exactly what he wants. And that I don’t play games. So, no, I won’t come in. I won’t feed into any kind of charade. I won’t sit idly by and be cordial when I’m?—”
He stops himself, and I can make out the tiniest tinge of a scarlet blush at the tops of his ears. It’s insanely attractive and adorable. But Liam doesn’t continue, and I know the walls he lifted for a millisecond to argue with me are slamming back down around his heart.
Without another word, he sets down my groceries he carried over here, turns on his heel, and leaves.
It’s not lost on me that we’re probably in a worse predicament than we were before this incident because now we’ve given life, oxygen, and words to this thing between us.
Throw in a match and the whole thing is bound to blow like a powder keg.
3
LIAM
Sunrays burn down into the fabric of my denim work shirt, a sheen of sweat coating my entire body.
As a man who works outside on a farm and typically in the fields all day, I know it’s far worse to catch a wicked sunburn than it is to wear long sleeves and pants all day. Even if I’m baking from the inside out, at least my skin isn’t frying to a crisp. My typical uniform of denim button-down in a light, breathable fabric and Carhartt pants, plus boots, might have me sweating bullets, but at least I’m protected.
My hands work nimbly and fast for being so big, but then again, I’ve had years of practice. I pull ripened tomatoes from the vine in record fashion, depositing them in wooden crates to be transported back to the main building we use for collection and small office space. In the rows around me, two of my farmhands, Todd and Jake, assist in grabbing any of the tomatoes that have ripened.
It’s our first round of harvesting, and while most of the plants are still cultivating and the fruit isn’t ready to be taken off the vine, there are a few that can be snipped with a pair of garden clippers for a clean cut. We don’t want them to overripen, or they’ll be useless to us, and I’m diligent about getting every ounce of product we can from our farm. Or else, what the hell are we doing? Wasting food or having our crop go to waste is one of my biggest pet peeves, especially when we’re the ones who put out the money to grow, harvest, sauce, and serve it.
I’ve spent all day out here with these two harvesting in batches, moving from our cabbage and greens in the morning when it’s cooler to the tomato plants in the afternoon, so they have time to dry before we get our hands on them. Pick, wipe down, into the wagon they go, and then repeat the process. It’s monotonous, hot in the sun, and my back is aching, but I crave the work. It gets my mind off the shit show that went down yesterday morning, and with Jake whistling old country songs under his breath, I can actually tune out for a while.
You know, since my interaction with Gabrielle has haunted me since it happened. It’s not good enough that the woman haunts my fantasies, daydreams, nightmares, etc.? Now real-life conversations plague me day in and day out?
What she said to me on the steps of her grandmother’s condo was so out of left field that it almost brought me to my knees. She never confronted me about anything between us, and here she was, coming out swinging. It was sexy as fuck, while also pissing me off to no end. Gabrielle is still assuming so many things about me and, just like before, never giving me a real shot.