Page 48 of Landing Liam

“Oh, so that’s how we’re playing this?” I counter. “Because if we’re being honest, I’m not sure you’ve earned the right to call dibs just yet.”

She narrows her eyes at me, a spark of amusement lighting them. “Excuse me? Who was the one risking life and limb just to find chocolate?”

I cross my arms and lean casually against the wall. “You mean the chocolate you insisted on, despite knowing the snowstorm was borderline apocalyptic? Yeah, you’re welcome for saving your snack stash.”

She shakes her head, fighting a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re lucky I have a soft spot for stubborn journalists who can’t handle the cold,” I fire back, grabbing a blanket from the foot of the bed and draping it around my shoulders like a superhero cape.

She laughs, and the sound fills the room. But then her expression shifts, turning playfully serious as she eyes me with mock suspicion. “Speaking of soft spots… where exactly are you planning to sleep tonight?”

I raise a brow. “Why? You worried I’ll steal all the blankets?”

“More like I’m worried you’ll think the bed is big enough for two,” she retorts, though her cheeks flush slightly, giving her away.

I smirk. “It’s a king. Pretty sure it’s designed for at least two.”

Maggie huffs, standing and crossing her arms. “Fine. Then I guess you can sleep on the couch.”

I glance over at the plush couch by the fireplace. It’s comfortable-looking, sure, but nowhere near big enough for my six-foot-four frame. “Really? You’re relegating me to the couch? After everything I’ve done for you tonight?”

She tilts her head, lips twitching. “You mean like stealing snacks and making me run through a blizzard?”

“Exactly.” I gesture dramatically. “I’m practically a hero.”

“A hero who can sleep on the couch,” she deadpans, though her eyes gleam with humor.

I step closer, closing the distance between us. Her breath catches slightly, and I swear the temperature in the room shifts. “Tell you what,” I say, lowering my voice just enough to make her shiver. “I’ll take the couch—on one condition.”

“Oh, this should be good,” she says, lifting her chin defiantly.

“I get to eat the sour gummy worms.”

She laughs again, shaking her head. “No.”

“Then,” I add, stepping even closer, “You have to give me your phone number.”

Maggie rolls her eyes but doesn’t move away. “You really think highly of yourself, don’t you?”

I grin, leaning in just a fraction. “Only when I’m around you.”

Her cheeks deepen to a richer shade of pink, and I have no idea how I’m supposed to survive being locked in a room with her tonight without kissing her again.

Chapter Twenty-One

Maggie

There’s something deeply primal about watching a man tend to a fire, even if it’s a gas one. The way Liam crouches down, adjusting the flame’s intensity with steady hands, is captivating. His broad shoulders move with precision, his back flexing beneath his shirt, and I catch myself staring, my heart pounding in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with the warm glow of the flames.

I sink deeper into the plush couch, curling my legs beneath me, but it does very little to quell the heat building between my thighs. Every movement Liam makes only stokes it further. It’s maddening. How can one person be so effortlessly magnetic? His tousled hair, his strong hands, the way he carries himself—it’s like he was designed to mess with my head.

He finally stands, brushing his hands on his jeans, and turns to me with a satisfied grin. “There. Perfect.”

I nod, my throat dry. “Thanks. I didn’t realize watching someone adjust a thermostat could be so… enthralling.”

His lips quirk, and he crosses his arms, leaning against the wall like he knows exactly what effect he has on me. “Enthralling, huh? I’ll take that as a compliment.”

I roll my eyes, trying to play it cool, but the way his gaze lingers on me makes my pulse race even faster. “Don’t let it go to your head.”