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She smiled as she sipped her tea.That’s what you think.
Chapter
Five
“Come on, pal. Just awee bite,” Arran said in a singsong voice, as Jayce eyed the broccoli speared on the fork with suspicion.
“No. I don’t like broccy, Daddy,” Jayce said with a tone of disparagement.
Not one to give up that easily, Arran continued to cajole his son into taking a bite of something nutritious. Inevitably his mind wandered to Liv’s pending arrival in a couple of hours, his thirst to lay eyes on her intensifying. His mind drifted to remember when she’d jokingly mentioned strippers the other day over at Sam’s house, and an image of her as the naked dancing lady had crashed into his mind’s eye like the meteor that had allegedly killed off the dinosaurs. It’d made him inhale his drink and nearly choke to death at Sam and Maya’s kitchen table.
Death by champagne. What a middle-class way to go.
The doorbell sounded, bringing him out of his thoughts, and he eyed his watch. “Who’s that?”
Wondering why pretty much every human in existence asked that question when an unexpected visitor called, despite the factthat no answer would be provided until the door was, in fact, answered, he left Jayce at the table for a second to jog down the hallway and open the door.
His heart nearly stopped when he found Liv standing there, wearing a cute fitted T-shirt that read “Teacher, Because Superhero Is Not an Official Title” with her faded jeans, biker jacket, and white Converse.
“Hey,” she said, pushing her purple-framed glasses up her nose and brushing a wave of dark chestnut hair from her forehead.
For a moment, he was thrown. “You’re early.”
She smiled. “Yeah. I got changed at the dojo and came straight over. Thought I’d give you a head start on the painting.”
The view of the green hills peeked out in the distance behind her, bringing out the green of her eyes. And the early afternoon sun caught her hair, creating a russet glow around the top of her head.Like a halo.Arran pictured exactly which paints in his studio he would mix to create the warm waves of her hair. His autumnal shades. And the hue of her eyes would come from the collection he thought of as his sea tones.
Liv raised an eyebrow. “So, am I allowed in, or is there a special password now?”
Clearing his throat, he shifted to allow her past him. Her scent filled his lungs as she moved, like sweet berries mixed with vanilla. He felt like one of those old-style cartoon characters, set adrift through the air as their nose followed the trail of a delicious smell. “That’s so awesome of you,” he finally managed to get out. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” she said, giving him a side five before moving down the hallway to the open-plan kitchen at the end. He squeezed his hand into a fist to dispel his awareness of the touch of her skin. The blind date had brought with it a sense of clarity, leading to therealization that his instigation of that greeting had been driven by an unconscious but powerful need to make physical contact with her.
Jayce spied her enter the kitchen and his face lit up. “Hiya, Lib!”
“Hey there, buddy,” she said, heading over and kissing his chubby cheek. “How you doing? Broccoli! My favorite. How about we eat some of this scrummy stuff while Daddy goes painting?” She lifted the fork, sitting next to Jayce. “Here comes the choo-choo…” She made “chugga-chugga” noises and swooped the fork down, Jayce automatically opening his mouth and taking a bite while Liv whooped as his own personal cheerleader.
Smiling at their antics, Arran left for the studio, the sound of Liv and Jayce giggling following him down the hallway.
He opened the door that led from the hallway into his studio, which he had converted from the garage the year before. Closing it behind him, he leaned against it for a moment.
His escalating feelings for Liv were getting out of hand. She was his best friend’s sister. They’d been in the same class at school. When they were ten, he’d pretended to the entire year group that she had nits and earned himself an uppercut to the gut from her, for God’s sake.
There was also the fact that a romantic relationship withanyonewas not what he needed right now. This time the previous year, he’d been in full-on wedding-planning mode, and when his ex had broken things off, he’d been blindsided. How on earth hadn’t he realized that she no longer loved him? Was he that dense? He couldn’t trust his own feelings, that was for sure. In fact—that must be it. His emotions were such a fucking mess that it was making him irrational over Liv.
Moving over to his latest canvas, he began preparing what he needed to continue. The act of mixing the paints was therapeutic, though this time it didn’t fully banish the turmoil of his thoughts.
He’d been determined to concentrate on Jayce and his new business, and he’d been pleased with how he’d managed both those things. That was how it needed to stay. Jayce and painting were his top priorities, and there was no room for anything else. Not since Jess had left him anyway. She used to occupy the top spot too, alongside their little dude.
Anyway, Liv helped everyone, and she would have offered her assistance to any of her other friends who needed her. That was one of the things he loved about her. Well, one of the things he really liked about her anyway. Love was a bit extreme. He didn’tloveher. Just because she was his best friend who totally got him, and she was his favorite person in the world to spend time with apart from his son,plushe was off-the-charts attracted to her didn’t mean he loved her.
He hadn’t been able to resist clearing the air about their blind date because he couldn’t leave her thinking he’d been disappointed to see her. Nor could he resist telling her how gorgeous she’d looked—he wanted her to hear what a smoke show she was. But he’d noticed the way she’d blushed hard, those pretty cheeks turning bright red, and so he’d changed the subject to spare her further embarrassment. Though up until that point he’d wondered whether there had been some interest flickering in her green eyes…
Making a decent start with his painting, he resolved to stop torturing himself with the unattainable what-ifs regarding his relationship with Liv.
—
“Perfect,” Arran murmured to himselfas he finished the final brushstroke and took a step back, wiping his hands on a cloth. The portrait work was turning out to be very lucrative, with customers keen to commission them for loved ones’ birthdays and special occasions. Maybe one day soon, he’d be able to get shot of the office work he’d had to take up after his redundancy money had rundry. At least he’d gotten the studio well off the ground by the time that had occurred.
