Page 26 of Legally Yours

Later we’re sittingon his bedroom floor, folding fresh towels for the bathrooms together.

“If I knew chores could be this fun with someone, I would have come to find you so much sooner,” he says with a wicked grin. The one he makes when he knows a laugh from me is guaranteed.

I playfully hit his shoulder, and he lets out his deep, beautiful laugh. “You are such a dork!”

“Yourdork,” he corrects.

I feel my heart flutter. I stand, carrying the bunches of folded towels to his bathroom. He runs over and takes the load out of my arms.

“This reminds me of a towel warmer I used to have. Totally unnecessary, but nothing compared to having warm towels after a long bath.”

“I’ll get one for your bathroom,” Liam says.

“You really don’t have to, it’s a completely unnecessary purchase.” I laugh.

Liam grabs my elbow and turns me around to face him. “I want you to feel comfortable here. This is your home, too. Bring your things here. Make it your own,” he says. His touch is reassuring and just being with him already brings the familiarity of home.

“Oh, I don’t know, Liam,” I say a bit apprehensively, trying not to sound too eager. Like I haven’t thought of this before. “I have way too many things.”

He gets a glint of happiness in his eyes and rushes to the closet. “We can take all this off and remodel it.”

My heart swells. No one has ever been so eager to have me in their space. But I thought this was for six months. Do I want this? Does he want to continue to be with me if he is considering those changes? Is it too fast?

23

LIAM

Isit in my office, the smell of coffee overpowering and strong. I smirk at my phone when I see a text message from Cassandra come in.

Hope you have a great day : )

My stomach does a small lurch at even the sight of her name on my notifications. I run a hand through my hair and try to divert my attention back to work. My mind can’t stop wandering off to Cassandra, though.

There are several frantic knocks at my office door. I push back on my office chair.

“Come in!” I call out, already feeling a twinge of nervousness at the tone.

My secretary, Joana, somehow storms in politely. She clears her throat and straightens her pencil skirt. “Mr. Anderson.”

I motion to the chair in front of my expansive glass desk. She slides in and takes a seat. “You might want to be seated for this, sir.”

I pull on the slacks of my thighs and sit, feeling my heart quicken. Whatever it is, it can’t be good news.

Joana pushes her cat eye glasses up the bridge of her nose and takes a deep breath. “There is a new modeling agency. I’m not sure if you have heard.”

I raise a brow and lean forward, resting my elbows on the glass and enclosing my hands. “Who is this new modeling agency?”

She takes a sharp breath. “They’re called the Marolito Fashion Agency.”

“Okay, go on,” I say, and my pulse quickens.

She shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “I’m sorry, sir, but they’re recruiting a lot of models from us.”

I feel my chest puff out, and the onset of a headache starts to form. “Excuse me?”

“Yes, unfortunately their strategy and tactic are to recruit some of our best models as they offer twice the salary.” She twiddles with the pen in her fingers and moves the pen behind her ear to top her nervous tic.

I run my hands through my hair and exhale. Who is running this shit? I furrow my brows and type ferociously on my computer, pulling up contracts left and right. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. I turn over and smile at Joana. “Joana, do we know who is behind this new modeling agency?”