Fair Game: A Football Romance (106 page)

When I look up to protest, Kit sashays past us all with a bobble head and a sassy snap wave behind Liam’s back. He’s insinuating that Liam has spoken, and that’s that. Chachi. Ahh, now I get it. I roll my eyes, and Kit says a quick goodbye.

Liam hands Toby to me and walks into the kitchen and starts rummaging around in the cupboards.

“What are you doing?”

“Cleaning up this mess,” he says, popping up with a container of Clorox wipes.

“I can get it later. We’re going to be late,” I say.

“It’s a barbeque. We don’t have to be on time. It’s no biggie.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing,” he says, pulling about twenty wipes out of the top of the container. He slaps them down on the table and begins scooping up crackers and smearing peanut butter.

“You don’t have to stay here, Liam. I’ll be fine. This won’t happen again. I’m going to stay busy—no more naps.”

Toby squirms in my arms, so I let him down and he runs into his bedroom.

“There’s nothing wrong with naps, Lourdes. You need the extra rest. When you were pregnant with Toby, you didn’t have another kid to take care of. It’s different this time. I’m staying—end of discussion.”

I’m not sure I like the way he just spoke to me. Part of me likes his authoritative tone—it’s hot—and the other part resents being told what to do. I watch the muscles of his shoulders flex through his black t-shirt as he cleans my kitchen. How is it possible that I have found a man who loves my son, cleans, takes charge, protects and compliments me, and has serious feelings for me?

Liam’s phone dings, notifying him of a text.

“Can you grab that? My hands are a mess.” he says. I slip his phone from his back pocket and glance at it briefly before I turn it so he can read it. It’s from Amira. There’s the fly in the ointment. That’s more like my luck. No matter what Liam and I are building, he’s still married to her, and nothing will change until that is over.

He sighs and motions for me to put it back in his pocket. He looks up at me from where he’s squatting down to clean the chair. One corner of his mouth raises in an apologetic smile.

“She’s still worried about that damn will. She texts me at least four times a day about it. If she only knew how much I don’t care.”

“Have you told her?” I ask.

“That I don’t care?” he says, puzzled, because of course he has.

“No, I mean does she know I’m pregnant?”

“Yes. We spoke earlier today.”

“Was she happy or excited or anything?” I don’t know why I’m asking. I don’t really want to know.

“She was surprised. She asked when you are due and she was rude. Typical Amira.”

“What was she surprised about?”

“She thought it would take longer, I guess. She should be glad it happened so fast. The sooner her father and his legal team thinks our marriage is stable, the better. She needs to be in that will so she can chill the fuck out.”

Toby chooses this exact moment to run into the room.

“Fuck out, fuck out,” he yells, and I clamp my hand over his mouth, but he keeps saying it.

Liam dumps the dirty wipes into the trash and looks at Toby and then me.

“How do we fix this?”

“Stop cursing?” I say and shrug my shoulders.

“All right then, no more swearing. Boy Scout’s Honor.” He holds up three fingers.

“You were a Boy Scout?”

“Nope, it just sounded good. Let’s get going. You ready to have some fun, Toby?”

“Yeah!” Toby yells.

I smile and set him down, and he runs to the door.

“Thanks for being so good to him.”

“It’s easy. He’s part of you,” he says, tracing my jaw with his finger. When he reaches my chin, he gently grasps it between his thumb and pointer finger. “I want to kiss you.”

I bite my lip. I know he won’t do it, but knowing he wants to is almost as good.

“We should go,” he whispers.

I nod and he takes my hand, leading me to the door, where Toby is messing with the knob, trying to let himself out.

“See why I need to be here? He’s a smart kid. He’ll have that figured out in no time. I’d rather take you both home with me where the neighborhood is less rough, but I’m being told that people have seen us together and are starting to talk.”

“Talk? What kind of talk?” I ask.

“Just that I’ve been spotted with a hot chick who’s not my wife,” he says and winks.

“That’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Not for me, but I don’t want you to have to deal with the press and paparazzi hanging around.”

“But what about your marriage? Aren’t you worried there will be talk of infidelity?”

“There’s always talk of infidelity. As long as they don’t get carried away, it’s okay. If they don’t have a photo of us holding hands or kissing, they have nothing to back up their lies with.”

“What if someone sees us together tonight or at the clinic? What about the club? I was in the DJ booth with you. Oh God, Liam, someone must have gotten a picture of that.” I feel hot. I’m starting to panic. The air feels like it’s being sucked out of the room, and I can’t breathe.

“Hey, calm down. It’s fine. Let’s get you some fresh air outside. Come on,” he says, leading me to the door where he scoops up Toby in one arm and holds mine with the other.

It works. When I’m outside, I hold onto the wrought iron railing and take deep breaths. I’ve never had a panic attack before, but that sure felt like one.

Liam is rubbing circles on the small of my back. I love it, but I step away, just out of his reach.

“You shouldn’t touch me,” I say.

“Lourdes, stop it. If anyone got pictures in the club, they couldn’t be damaging because we didn’t do anything we weren’t supposed to do. I can have a friend in the booth if I want to. It’s my fuc—darn club.” He stops himself from cursing in front of Toby just in time.

“You’re sure this is ok, going to your friends’ for dinner? I don’t want to mess things up.”

“It’s fine. People are going to find out that Amira and I are using a surrogate anyway. It wouldn’t be so unusual for me to take you to a barbeque to meet my friends. Surrogate mothers are considered part of the family in a lot of cases. Nobody needs to know how we feel about each other yet.”

How do we feel about each other? I want to ask but I don’t. I think I’m falling in love with him, but I can’t bear to hear him say he doesn’t feel the same.

“Ok, are we all good now? Can we go?” he asks.

“Yes, I’m fine now—and starving.”

“That’s good, because Steve and Felicia know how to barbeque. You’ll be in a meat coma by ten o’clock. You do eat meat, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

Ten o’clock. My God, there’s no way I’ll make it until ten. I’m tired already.

“Oh, no reason. Your kitchen is just jam packed with organic food, fruits and vegetables.”

“I eat healthy, but we aren’t vegetarians. We had burgers one time, remember?”

“Those were fake hamburgers.”

“No way.”

“Yes way, and I’m happy you eat so healthy. It’s good for our baby.”

I’m in the front seat and he’s buckling Toby in his seat when he says this, and I’m glad he can’t see my face. He said
our baby
, not
his baby
or
their baby
. I drop my head back and stare at the roof of the car and place my hand on my tummy. The chances of this all going as Liam believes it will are slim. We’re going to need a miracle to end up being a cute little family of four, and that scares the shit out of me. I don’t want to get hurt, but I can feel it coming already.

Liam slides in next to me. “You ok?” he asks, resting his hand on my knee. “Hey,” he says, placing a finger on my chin to turn my face to his. “Why the tears, LK?”

My eyes are brimming with unshed tears that I try to blink away, but one escapes and slips down the side of my face.

“Stupid hormones. You called me LK,” I say, smiling. I’m on such a seesaw of emotions lately.

“Those are your initials, right?”

“Yeah, nobody’s called me that since high school. It takes me back.”

“Well, until I can call you something sexier, you’re LK to me.”

I chuckle, and he puts the car into gear and pulls out of my parking lot.

“What’s your middle name?” he asks, and I cringe. I hate telling people my middle name. It’s even weirder than my first.

“Unity.” I roll my eyes, and a mile-wide smile spreads across his face. “What? Don’t make fun. I can’t help it that my mother was going through a phase when she had me.”

“I love it. LUK—sort of like
lucky
, huh?”

“Yeah, or Luke from Star Wars. Unfortunately, I got that one a lot.”

“Hmm nope, I don’t see that one happening. Lucky is better,” he says.

“No sexy nickname?” I stick out my bottom lip and pout shamelessly.

“Oh, yes. I’ll have one for you someday. Just you wait.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Liam

Kevin and Felicia loved her. I knew they would. What’s not to love? I think Felicia has found herself a new best friend, which is cool because she hates Amira. The double dating possibilities are endless, and the family outings would be great. The girls had a blast with Toby. The three of them played so hard, Toby passed out in Steve’s hammock in the yard while we all sat around the fire pit.

After a quick stop at my house for my things, we’re on our way home. Lourdes is sleeping in the seat next to me with her head propped against the glass. I hate taking them back to her apartment in that neighborhood, but at least I’ll be there on the couch tonight to make sure little man doesn’t take a walk on the wild side while she’s sleeping. I’d much rather be sleeping in her bed with my arms wrapped around her warm, soft body. Being in the same tiny apartment with her all night is going to be torture enough. I wouldn’t be much good to Toby in his mother’s bed, and that’s what I’m there for, right?

Wrong.

I do worry about him, but I’m pretty sure we could install a chain on the door and solve the problem easily. I hate leaving Lourdes every night. I worry about her. I don’t sleep. I lie in my waste of a king-sized bed and think about all of the things I want to do to her, the places on her body I want to explore, the secrets her clothes hide from me. I want to press my face against her neck and breathe her in for hours. I want to explore every dip and curve of her body and find the spots that drive her crazy. I want to taste her, feast on her, make her come over and over. I think about how it would feel to be inside of her and how it will sound when she screams my name, because she’s going to scream my name. It’s just a matter of time.

Fuck, I’m going to have to carry Toby inside with a raging boner if I don’t quit thinking about his mom like this. Mom. That’s it, think of my mom. That always ruins a good vibe. Not that she was a terrible mother. She tried, but parents are supposed to protect their kids at all costs. She didn’t protect my brother, Dylan, from my father. She knew he was dangerous, and part of me will always blame her for not escaping earlier.

Boner eliminated, and just in time. I pull into the parking lot and wake Lourdes. I lift a limp, dirt- and chocolate-covered Toby from his car seat, and we make our way inside.

“Go on to bed. I’ll clean his hands and face off and put him to bed.”

She surprises me by not arguing. Instead, she drags herself into her bedroom and falls into bed fully clothed. When Toby’s all tucked in, I turn his nightlight on and pull his door halfway shut. I only have to turn around in the tiny hallway to see her sleeping in her bed.

I lean my shoulder against the frame of the door and watch her chest rise and fall with every soft breath she takes. God, she’s so damn beautiful. She’s positioned exactly the way she fell into bed, with one hand thrown above her head and the other across her belly. The night light in her room is almost as bright as a small lamp, and it casts an angelic glow on her skin.

Her shoes are still on. I can’t resist the perfectly good excuse to be closer to her. I shove off the door and toe off my shoes just inside her room. I close the small gap that separates us in three steps and stand inches from her. She’s even more fascinating up close. Her eyes drift back and forth under her lids, and I wonder what she’s dreaming about or if she’s dreaming at all. I’m almost afraid to remove her shoes. I don’t want to wake her, and I can’t be sure that I would stop with just her shoes.

Her head turns toward the light, and she mumbles something, but I can’t understand what she’s said. I have to take off her shoes. She can’t sleep like this. Clothes, maybe, but she’s sort of a germaphobe, and I know she’d freak if she knew her shoes touched her sheets.

I crouch down and carefully slide one sandal and then the other off and lay them on the floor next to the bed. I’m eye level with her entire body now, and she’s so inviting, so intoxicating that my fingers twitch. I’ve never wanted anything more than to ravish this woman right now.

And then I hear her again. This time, clear as crystal, she says my name.

“Liam.”

I take a deep breath in and blow it out. The sound of her sighing my name in her sleep nearly drives me over the edge. I drop my chin to my chest and clasp my hands together in front of me. My desire for her is physically painful, my cock is rock hard, my muscles tense, and if I don’t get out of here, I’m bound to break a tooth from clenching my jaw so tight.

I raise my head a bit and risk one last glance at her. She curls up on her side and slides her hands, palms together, under her pillow.

“I want to kiss you,” I say, and she smiles in her sleep. I stand and pull a throw blanket from the foot of her bed to cover her. I back out of her room, and just when I’m pulling the door closed, I hear her again.

“I want you to kiss me,” she says so softly that I can’t be sure she said it at all.

I grip the doorknob and close my eyes, mustering every last bit of restraint I have left. When I’m fifty percent sure that I’m not going to cave—because it’s not getting any surer than that—I let go and leave her to lie down on the couch. It smells like her here. She napped with Toby on this couch today. I take her throw pillow and stuff it under my head. The television remote is on the coffee table within my reach. I snatch it and punch the power button. Distraction. That’s what I need. I have to forget that she’s sleeping just a few steps away in the next room, sighing my name and asking me to kiss her. No television show is going to do that, but I try until I’m fed up with the stupid reruns and infomercials that are on in the middle of the night. I brought my laptop. I need to work. The only thing that consumes my mind as much as Lourdes is music, and it’s the only thing I know of that will get me through this night.

Two hours later, I have decided that this isn’t going to work long-term. She needs help, and being in such close quarters with this woman is killing me. There’s no way I can do it every night. She’s going to have to move into my house, and that’s that. I’ve wanted her out of this neighborhood from the first time I brought her home from the club six weeks ago. I have an entire level of my house that no one ever uses, four thousand square feet of living space wasted. She and Toby will be comfortable there temporarily while she’s pregnant. After she has the baby, the plan is to buy her a house in Berkeley so she can be close to school, but until then, she’s living with us. Amira will just have to understand, and if she doesn’t, tough shit.