Page 6 of Lesson In Honesty
In just a couple days, the emptiness would be gone, forgotten. People would crowd around the bar, ordering drinks after their scenes, ogling her Liam as though taking him for a ride wasn’t out of the question. Music would play through the speakers, loud enough to enjoy but at a level conducive to conversation at the same time. The bar would be full of life, smelling of perfume and aftershave, sex and sweat, instead of brass polish and lemon-scented cleaner.
When they stepped out into the chilly air, she shivered and huddled into Liam. She wasn’t a fan of the cold; it got into her bones and she usually needed to put on her special bed socks to warm up again.
His arm came around her shoulders. “Come on, minx. It’s dropped a few degrees since we walked over. Why don’t I light the fire when we get home?”
Home, she thought wistfully. She missed home. Not their apartment—the cabin here was much nicer than the apartment they couldn’t bear to leave because of the memories Wyatt left behind—but the family who’d made her feel so welcome when they didn’t have to, not at all.
She did love the fire, though.
The warmth spreading through the cabin, the crackle of burning wood. Even the flicker of light and shadow against the walls, although their first night here, when the wind was howling and rain pelted the windows, it hadn’t been comforting so much as a little terrifying.
New house, new place, new state.
Thanks to Evander’s generosity, the cabin was fully furnished to Liam—and she supposed her own—tastes, and that included curtains. She didn’t know how she’d cope if she could see winter knocking on the glass—her imagination already conjured too many monsters in the dark.
“Where’s your jacket, minx?”
Oh boy, here came the lecture. She’d had a few already and they’d been here less than a week; the Avalon Masters and their respective partners had flown in to Denver not only to bring Tabitha home and support Grit in a terrible time, but to say a tearful goodbye.
“In the cabin,” she muttered, almost tacking on a sulkyDaddyto the end.
“Did I not tell you to bring it with you?”
“It was sunny,” she protested.
“That was then, this is now.” Chuckling, Liam guided her along the gravel pathways. It crunched under her sneakers, his boots, as they walked at a hurried pace toward the residential cabins near the woods.
Their home was a single-story abode, nothing fancy or ostentatious. A spacious living room with the stone hearth and open fire; a big kitchen with all the mod-cons. The bedroom was huge, with a bed large enough for six and a gorgeous bathroom attached.
She’d taken over the living room with her stuffies. Luckily, Liam didn’t mind the invasion; he understood her work grounded her when she felt overwhelmed or stressed.Shewas so very lucky to have found a man who knew that, and supported her.
“This isn’t Phoenix, Sierra. Winter here can be brutal, which means taking your jacket even when it’s sunny. This is a big resort, and I don’t want you getting caught out if it starts raining or snowing, or some other force of nature comes down on us.”Ever the gentleman, he led her up the path to their porch steps, grasping her elbow as they ascended onto the deck, then opened the front door. “Jacket and phone at all times, understand? We’ll add everyone’s number to your cell, and put Evander and a couple others to the speed dial in case of an emergency.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“In you go.”
She trudged inside, chin on her chest, tempted to scuff her sneakers on the brief gap of varnished floorboards before the hallway runner covered the rest. It was warmer inside, the gentle heat wrapping around her like the absent jacket.
Despite the fact she burned candles at night, the cabin still held thatnewscent. Paint, wood varnish, the chemical tang that stung her nose.
Sierra bent to untie her laces, setting her sewing pouch by her feet. She had one undone and the other partially free when Liam grasped her hips from behind. Not suggestively, just a physical connection between them.
Slowly, she finished untying the lace, then straightened and toed off her sneakers. One, then the other. The movement made her butt rub against the soft bulge in his jeans, quickly rousing it to hardness.
His arm curled around her waist. “Are you happy here, Sierra?”
She rested her head against his chest. “I can’t complain. Everything’s strange,willbe strange for a while, I guess. This cabin is lovely, the scenery is prettier. The club’s going to be a huge hit. As far as fresh starts go, this has to be one of the best.”
Liam sighed, resting his chin on top of her hair. “That doesn’t answer my question. We’ve been stuck for so long in the rut Wyatt left behind, we’ve forgotten what happiness is.” When she stiffened at the mention of Wyatt’s name, he tsked softly. “We don’t talk about him anymore.”
There wasn’t much left to say after all this time.
She’d loved him first until Liam showed her what actual love was, and the dwindling emotion died inside her once her heart opened itself to her Viking. She’d tolerated Wyatt touching her because Liam thought there was some good in him, relegating him from Dom to sub. Teaching Wyatt how to be an empathic, sympathetic man instead of an asshole.
Sierra had forgiven him on some level, enough to forge a life together. A threesome, tentatively building a future on a broken past, uncertain promises, and love that didn’t quite stretch around the triangle. She thought they’d been happy, or some variant of it.
Enough to hold them together until Wyatt earned his forgiveness fully, posthumously, when he uncharacteristically gave his life to save Zeke’s.