Page 13 of Just Between Us

An uncontained smile slips across my lips at the sight before me and I reach toward the dog to allow for a hand sniff. Once I’ve earned his approval, I give several scratches between his ears.

Liam sets the dog back on the ground, and it scampers off behind the table where a man and a woman sit next to a money box.

I select several tomatoes and start to hand my card over to the lady, but Liam swipes it, tucking it into my pocket. The lady stands and swats at Liam. She’s petite, with chin length silver hair and eyes the same meadow green as his.

“Liam, are you going to introduce me to your new friend?”

Liam steps closer to me, placing one large hand on my head.

“Mom, this is Cassandra. She’s Austin James’s sister and a guest at Penny’s house.”

Liam’s mom introduces herself as Lisa, and wraps me in a motherly embrace that takes me by surprise. People are certainly friendly in this town. I’ve never been much of a hugger other than with my family, so it takes a second for my arms to catch up. She’s several inches shorter than me, and when I make eye contact with Liam over her head he winks.

Winks!My stomach does the stupidest flip flop. I can’t recall the last time a man winked at me.

When she releases me, she squeezes my hands. “You sure are a pretty thing. Liam, isn’t she a doll?”

Liam, who is now popping cherry tomatoes into his mouth, eyes me up and down.

“The prettiest I’ve seen in a while.”

Again with that stupid flip in my belly. Ridiculous. Which I think is exactly what he wants.

Lisa gives him a look, one I don’t quite understand, and she turns back to me. “Well, any friend of Penny’s is a friend of mine and Greg’s.”

The man stands, coming to shake my hand, and the three of us make small talk about my time in Singing River. It turns out, Greg is Liam’s father and also a member of the studio band. After a few more minutes of conversation, I part ways with Lisa and Greg and continue to the next booth with Liam at my side. It looks like I have a shopping partner today.

And bartender Sheila is right. Liam is a charmer with a heart of gold. He puts on his most disarming smile, wooing all the little old ladies and even carries their bags to their car for them. I’ve never seen so many grannies blush. He pets every dog we pass and stops to speak to nearly everyone here. Nothing about his behavior seems performative on my behalf. Liam is just genuinely friendly.

Meanwhile, my conversation from earlier with Penny and Austin bounce in and out of my thoughts while we move from booth to booth. The two of them are still exploring their new relationship, and I don’t know a soul in this town other than them. Until last night. Now I know three people. And so far, his company has been exactly what I’ve needed.

“Did you,” I start right as Liam says, “I’ve been thinking.”

I laugh awkwardly, and Liam gestures for me to speak. “Ladies first.”

“Did you give our Powerball money to Henry?”

Liam’s eyes light up. “Sure did. He went early. Your tickets are in my truck.”

“Thank you. Now what were you going to say?”

“I’ve been thinking about your list. What do you have going on today?”

“Why?” I eye him skeptically. “What have you been thinking?”

“There’s somewhere I’d like to take you. I think we can cross off one thing today. It’s a beautiful day”—he gestures with both hands to the sunny sky above us—“and I know the perfect way to spend it.”

This is how, an hour later, I’m eyeing a sign for a hiking trail. Liam told me I’d need a swimsuit, so I went back to the apartment, unloaded all of my goodies from the market, and changed. Right before I reached the door, I grabbed a bag of homemade granola and an apple I bought earlier and headed out.

An older model Dodge Ram sits on the shoulder of the road, not the motorcycle I expected, but when I see Liam waiting with Mutt at his side I veer off and park behind him. A laugh sputters out of me when I spot the bumper sticker on the truck, which reads:Caution: Makes frequent stops at your mom’s house.

If I hadn’t just spotted Liam, I’d still know the truck belongs to him. He’s scribbling something in a small notebook, an unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips. Sitting like that, the hem of his shorts has ridden up, revealing two black bandstattooed around his muscular thigh, one thick band and one much thinner.

He looks up as I approach, his face splitting into a lopsided smile, which I return and kneel to pet Mutt.

“Figured I’d see your bike,” I say, cocking my head to the truck.

“Mutt doesn’t like the bike. I’ve tried everything. A special little dog seat, a dog backpack, you name it. It scares him.”