Read Can't Take My Eyes Off of You Page 13


  "He never kissed me like that," she told him. "He barely even touched me."

  Liam wanted so badly to believe her. But how could he when he knew firsthand that she was utterly irresistible? "That's impossible. How could he have been with you and not touched you?" He shouldn't have reached out for her again, shouldn't have let a strand of her hair thread through his fingers, but he had no self-control anymore. "How could any sane man possibly keep his hands off you?"

  "I swear," she said in a raw whisper. "We barely even kissed in all the months we were together."

  He should have been ecstatic to hear it--and he was--but in some crazy way, he was angry too, on Christie's behalf. "How could you have accepted that? Didn't you think you deserved to be with a man who wanted you? How long did you think you were going to be able to keep your desires buried?"

  "Wesley was kind. I knew he loved me. Maybe not as a woman, but as a person. It was more than anyone else had ever given me. I thought that dating a married guy was my biggest mistake, but I managed to top that by almost marrying a gay man." She slapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh no! I promised him I wouldn't say anything. He told me he needed time." She looked horrifically guilty about the secret she'd let loose. "It was his secret to tell, not mine."

  "Why didn't he tell me?" Liam was reeling from her revelation. "Why didn't he tell any of us, only you?"

  "He said it would break your parents if he told them, though he wouldn't tell me why. As for why he didn't tell you--" She looked away, as if she didn't think he could handle hearing the truth.

  "Christie." He put his finger on her chin to tip her face back up to his. "Be honest with me. You're the only one who always is."

  He could hear, could feel her breath catch, before she finally said, "Maybe he didn't tell you because you make sure everyone is afraid of you. That they don't get close to you. Like how you barely say a word to your mother, even though she's so hurt every time you push her away. Your father too."

  They were hard truths. Each and every one of them.

  Because for all that he wanted to tell himself he hadn't known about Wesley, was that really true? Wasn't it more that Liam had been so caught up in his own life and career and doing anything he could to stay away from his parents? Hadn't he been so damn busy telling himself it was better for everyone if he stayed out of their business, that he hadn't had even a minute to spare for his brother? And even after returning to Summer Lake this week, hadn't he made sure not to get too close to anyone? He hadn't looked up any old friends. His mother had to beg him to come to dinner. His father was desperate to take an hour and go for a hike.

  And all he'd done was work like hell to shut them out.

  "I care about you, Liam." Christie's words were filled with the sweetness he craved, warmth that seeped deeper into his cells with every moment they spent together. "All week I've been trying to tell myself to stay away from you. But you're a good man."

  "How could you think that when you're right about everything you just said?"

  "Because you didn't have to help me today--you did it because it was the right thing to do. You didn't have to stay to pitch in at the inn. That wasn't your agreement with Wesley. But even though you don't really want to be at Summer Lake, you've stayed to help. And--" She paused, then swallowed hard before saying, "I want you. I can't seem to stop wanting you."

  Just the way he couldn't stop wanting her. "If I were a good man," he said in a raw voice, "I would walk away from you so that you could find someone better."

  She blinked up at him. "You're not going to walk away right now?"

  He answered her by sliding his arms around her and kissing her in a way he'd never kissed another woman. There was heat there, of course, but emotion trumped everything else. Emotion that stunned him in a way very few things ever had.

  Liam had believed he would always be able to compartmentalize the physical from the emotional. He'd been so sure that no woman would ever change the core of who he was or what he believed to be true.

  But with a handful of kisses, Christie was already breaking in. Breaking through. Breaking down. Everything he'd been so certain about. Everything he'd held on to for so long as the only way to move forward.

  From the first moment at the inn, he hadn't been able to take his eyes off of her. And now that he knew just how sweet she tasted, now that he'd heard her sounds of pleasure, now that he'd felt the shiver of arousal move from her body to his--there was no way he could keep denying that he was in deep. Far deeper than he'd ever thought to be with anyone.

  So when he finally lifted his mouth from hers, there was only one thing left to say. "How can I walk away from you?"

  "You walked away from your family."

  No one had ever called him out on his bad behavior like the one woman he couldn't stay away from no matter how hard he tried. "You're right. I walked away from all of them."

  "Tell me why."

  "People lie." He stroked her cheek, needing to touch her constantly, wanting to be as close to her as he could possibly be. "That's why I walked away. And that's why I can't lie to you. I can't tell you that everything is going to work out, that this kiss is going to turn into a happily ever after."

  He didn't know what he expected her to do, but she didn't flinch. She didn't pull away. Instead, she simply said, "Tell me the truth, then."

  "I don't want to hurt you."

  "Good." Her mouth moved into a small smile. "I'm sick of being hurt."

  If he were smart, he would stop right there and make sure he didn't say anything else that would drive her out of his arms. But, then, how could he possibly live with himself? "Christie, I'm trying to tell you that I can't promise you anything."

  He was surprised by another one of her beautiful smiles, a bigger one this time. "Is this where I'm supposed to slap you and call you a cad for kissing me like you just did?"

  This conversation wasn't going the way he thought it would. Any other woman would have pulled away and written him off. But not Christie. She surprised him at every turn. "You said it yourself," he forced himself to remind her. "You've been trying to convince yourself to stay away from me."

  "Yup," she said, as blunt as he. "But I also can't seem to help myself where you're concerned."

  It would be so easy just to stop talking and kiss her again. But he wouldn't be able to live with himself unless everything was laid out, clearly and on the table, so that neither of them could ignore the truth of the situation. "Your reasons for wanting to stay away from me couldn't have changed. Tell me what they are."

  "Seriously? You want to hear why I should know better than to want you?"

  It was the only way to ensure he didn't hurt her. Which was exactly why he needed to make himself say, "Here are mine: You were Wesley's fiancee. You work for me." He paused before giving her the most important reason of all. "And you deserve to be with a man who can give you everything you want."

  She made a sound that was somewhere between disbelief and a laugh. "My reason is much simpler than that. You're the beast."

  Whatever he'd expected, it wasn't that. "If it's so simple, then how come I'm not following?"

  "You know, like the Beauty and the Beast fable. Not that I'm that much of a beauty--"

  "You are."

  "I'm giving a point to you for saying that," she said. "But in a nutshell, I've spent way too many years finding broken men and trying to heal them--only without the happily ever after."

  There was so much in what she'd just said, but one question stood out from the rest: "You think I'm broken?"

  She met his eyes head on in the moonlight. "Aren't you? You barely speak to your mother. Your father is desperate for a relationship with you. And your brother has been keeping a secret from all of you his whole life. Did I miss anything?"

  "Sounds like you've got it just about covered. Which means," he forced himself to add, "this is right when you should be saying good-bye to me."

  "I disagree," she countered. "You and I have ju
st been completely honest with one another. In my book, that's cause for celebration." Instead of moving away, she put her arms around his neck. "So...what do you think we should do about all of this?"

  A dozen heated visions flashed through his brain before he could make himself say, "Sleep on it, probably."

  "I'm really hoping you're going to tell me you don't mean separately."

  "You do know you're not supposed to say things like that out loud, don't you?"

  "Only because you're always telling me so."

  He shouldn't have broken out into laughter. But he'd never been able to help himself where Christie was concerned. And even though nothing had been settled between them, he couldn't help himself now either. Especially when she looked utterly delighted.

  "It's even better than I thought it would be," she said.

  No one had ever confused--or captivated him--this much. "What's better?"

  "Your laughter. I've been wanting to hear it for so long."

  His heart felt surprisingly full as he said, "Come here and give me a kiss good night before we go back to our separate rooms."

  "See, what did I tell you?" she whispered as she raised herself up on her tippy-toes and held her mouth a breath away from his.

  He told himself he was going to make sure this was the last kiss of the night even if it killed him to do the honorable thing. But he was so dizzy with the desire to taste her again that he could barely string words together. "What did you tell me, Christie?"

  He felt her smile against his lips without needing to see it. "You are a good man."

  And then she kissed him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  As Liam and Christie kissed in the moonlight, neither of them saw the lone figure standing in the shadows.

  Susan had never spied on her kids before. She wasn't one of those overprotective parents who hovered and asked too many questions. And she certainly hadn't dropped by the inn tonight to try to catch Liam and Christie together. She'd simply come by to see if she could make peace with her son, knowing full well that she'd done nothing but drive him even farther away since he'd returned to Summer Lake.

  While she knew that Liam and Christie weren't actually doing anything wrong--when she'd cooled down the previous night, she had to admit that Henry was right, and she should butt out of Liam's budding love life--she also knew they wouldn't appreciate her watching them. She desperately wanted to get back into her car and drive away, but if she so much as moved, she was certain they would hear her.

  And she knew how it felt to be caught.

  How, she wondered, as they finally made a move to go inside, could they not hear her heart beating when it had never sounded so loudly in her own ears? Especially now that she'd finally learned why Wesley had left: because he'd been afraid to tell them he had feelings for a man.

  She and Henry had made their fair share of mistakes, but had they really done such an awful job as parents that he felt he couldn't trust them?

  Unfortunately, Susan was afraid she already had her answer in the list Christie had given Liam of the reasons she should steer clear of dating him. A list he'd agreed was accurate: You barely speak to your mother. Your father is desperate for a relationship with you. And your brother has been keeping a secret from all of you his whole life.

  Susan could no longer deny the painful truth: She had failed both of her sons.

  When she finally deemed it safe to move without being seen, she ran to her car and quickly drove away. Henry was waiting on the porch when she got home.

  "I was wondering where you went," he said, and then, "Are you crying?"

  "I went to the inn to talk to Liam. But he and Christie--"

  Frustration flew across Henry's face. "I don't want to hear it. Whatever they're doing is their business."

  It was instinctive at this point for her ruff to go up at his tone. But where had her pride--and her mistakes--gotten her so far? So she forced herself to say, "You were right. Their relationship is their business."

  Henry's eyes widened with surprise at her admission. "Then why are you crying?"

  "Wesley is gay." Realizing what it sounded like, that she was crying over her son's sexual orientation, she quickly clarified, "I accidentally overheard Christie tell Liam why Wesley left. Our son swore Christie to secrecy because he thought the truth would break us."

  "My God." Henry sat down hard on one of the porch rockers. "How could he have thought that?"

  "I keep going back to what a wreck I was after James died." Her brother had passed away unexpectedly nearly twenty years ago from pneumonia. But the man they'd seen crying at her brother's funeral had clearly been more than a friend. He'd been her brother's partner. Only, her brother had never come out to her either. "Wesley must have mistakenly thought he had to marry Christie to make sure I didn't fall apart all over again."

  "And when he couldn't do it, he ran," Henry confirmed thoughtfully.

  "I've ruined so many things." Her legs were shaking, and she could feel them about to give way. But her husband was there before she could fall. Just like he always had been.

  "You're freezing cold. We need to go inside and sit near the fire." She was grateful for his warmth, for the way he cared for her even when she didn't deserve it. And he was right. She was cold. But it was a cold that had hardly anything to do with the temperature.

  Secrets were ripping her family apart. First, Liam had pulled away from her. And then, Wesley had run.

  She needed to come clean about everything. Now. Tonight. Before the secrets ripped her husband away too.

  But inside by the fire, as Henry held her and she reveled in his warmth and touch for the first time in far too long, the fear of actually losing him kept the truth of what she had done twenty years ago locked up tight inside her heart.

  *

  Christie had never been promiscuous. She wasn't a virgin, of course, but she never slept with anyone until they'd been dating for a while. Not because she was a tease, not because she was frigid, but because she'd never been able to let herself go physically without emotion tying her to someone.

  Liam had left her at her door like the perfect gentleman. And though she knew they should let their ridiculously hot kisses settle a bit before they took the next step, it was taking every ounce of self-control she possessed not to grab her master key and unlock his door.

  To offer herself to him.

  On top of all that, her bedroom was suddenly frigid. Almost as though some unseen presence were trying to kick her out of it...or get her to invite Liam back in to see if his presence would warm it up again.

  "I don't have the energy for you tonight," she found herself saying to the room at large.

  Thump!

  She should have known better than to issue a challenge like that. Because the sounds that started coming from the walls weren't the sad wails they'd been before--this time they sounded impatient.

  Okay, say she was willing to believe that there was a ghost. Did this spirit expect her to solve its problems? More specifically, had this bedroom been waiting sixty years for true love to set it straight, after Jean's honeymoon had ended in such tragedy?

  Christie snorted at the thought. "If you're waiting for my love life to turn things around for you," she said to her bedroom walls, "you're going to be in for a much longer wait."

  Thump!

  She could have sworn the wall was talking back to her, a loud banging akin to a foot stomping in frustration.

  "Yes, I'm as frustrated about it as you are," she replied, even though this conversation was taking weird to a brand-new level. "If I were you, I'd look to one of the couples getting married at the inn. Trust me, you're bound to have better luck there. Besides, you've had decades to deal with this. Why now? Why me?"

  As soon as she could get away from the front desk tomorrow, she was going to hunt down Jean and keep pouring tea until she got the rest of the story out of her. Maybe if Christie had some clues as to what had happened after Thomas left, then she co
uld make whatever was going wrong in this bedroom stop.

  Reaching into her bedside table, she pulled out earplugs and jammed them into her ears. But sixty seconds later, she knew it was pointless. The knocking had become even louder--a thump, thump, thump that was sure to make the headache that had been forming in the back of her head come to full fruition.

  And then she realized it wasn't the walls knocking.

  It was someone at the door.

  *

  Liam had tried to do the right thing. He'd intended to say good night to Christie with one final kiss. But then he heard those sounds coming from her bedroom, and how could he possibly have stayed away?

  Now here he was, standing in front of her door again. He'd knocked once, then twice. The master keys were still on the coffee table in his room. He wouldn't barge in on her again, even if it meant catching another glimpse of her in her sexy pajamas.

  Liam knew he should not only get the hell back to his room, but also do everything he could to keep things from going from complicated to ridiculously messy. If he didn't know better, he'd think there was some outside force pushing the two of them together. But he just couldn't believe in anything he couldn't see and touch.

  Which brought him right back to where he was now. Standing in the hallway, dying to see her. Dying to kiss her again. Dying for even one more smile, if that was all he could get.

  Finally, the door opened. "Hi."

  Her beautiful smile had him smiling back. He simply couldn't help it. "Hi."

  "You heard the sounds?"

  "I did."

  "Want to hear it close up?"

  He knew what she was asking him. And it had nothing to do with the strange sounds. "More than you know."

  "Oh, trust me," she said with another gorgeous smile, "I know."

  "One day you're going to stop surprising me."

  "I hope not," she replied. "You seem like a man who likes to be surprised."

  She was wrong. He hated surprises. Or used to anyway. But there was something so incredibly engaging about the way he could never predict what she was going to say next. Or do, apparently, because a moment later, she was tugging him inside, locking the door behind him, then cupping his jaw and moving to her toes to kiss him.

  She was so soft. So sweet. And so damned sexy, made more so by the lingering innocence that surrounded her. As if she was desperate for the chance to experience more pleasure than she'd ever had before. As if she thought that he could be the man to give her that pleasure, to find her sensual limits and push past them in all the best possible ways.