Swept Away for Christmas Page 5

  “You were very brave, too.” She got that he wanted a hug, and she wanted to hug him, but the idea of his hands on her—the idea of how much she wanted his hands on her—scared her. She released Mia and stood.

  “You still want to fish? Or do you want to head back in?”

  She didn’t want to head back in, not yet. “Can we just ride around? Are you going to be warm enough?”

  He smiled. “We can do that.”

  But as he eased past her, he rested his hands on her hips just a moment too long.

  ***

  That night The Pit wasn’t as busy, since it was Sunday. Once the televised football game was over, most people went home, which gave Liam too much time to think about what had happened on the boat, and what he’d wanted to happen.

  He was a guy, right, so thinking about sex was a given, even thinking about sex with his best friend’s sister. But the way she’d looked at him when he’d gotten out of the water, the way she’d gobbled him up with her eyes made him want to haul her to bed.

  How would he face Sam if he’d acted on that? Worse, she was in a bad place. Even if she’d acted on her desire, which he’d seen clearly in her eyes, he would be nothing more than a release, a rebound. He’d long since called a moratorium on casual sex. He was almost thirty-one and about ready to settle down. Harley had been settled too long. She needed time to sow some wild oats. They just weren’t in the same place.

  He thought about other women he knew in Starfish Shores, women like Brenda who made it clear they were available. But no one he knew held the appeal of Harley. And why had it taken her appearance to make him start thinking about other options?

  She set her tray on the bar and slumped over it.

  “Why don’t you head home?” he suggested.

  She lifted her head, squaring her shoulders. “Why? You still have customers.” And he’d sent Cindi home an hour ago.

  “I can handle it myself.” Best to get her home before they found themselves alone and he did something he couldn’t take back.

  A furrow appeared between her eyebrows, but she passed the tray over. “All right.” She untied her apron as she stepped back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  ***

  The following afternoon, when Harley walked into The Pit, Brenda was at the bar, deep in conversation with Liam, who braced his arms on the bar and bent his head to listen.

  The drop of Harley’s stomach couldn’t be jealousy. She had no cause to be. She had no claim on Liam, and shouldn’t anyway. She had only been away from Tony for a couple of weeks, and God knew she needed to find her own path before she hooked up with another guy, even one as hot and sexy as Liam.

  Especially one as hot and sexy as Liam.

  So let Brenda have at him. She was clearly interested.

  But as Harley tied on her apron, she couldn’t help but remember the way Liam looked at her on the boat, the heat that had rolled between them despite the chill in the air.

  The place was packed, for no reason immediately apparent to Harley, until the yelling started. Ah. Monday Night Football. She wended her way through the crowd that grew denser around the bar, trying to remember what guy in what team shirt ordered what kind of beer.

  At the end of the night, she was exhausted, her brain completely fried, and she couldn’t keep track of how many mistakes she’d made. She hadn’t noticed when Brenda had left, but Liam and Cindi were alone behind the bar, looking as frazzled as she felt. Liam slid a shot glass across the bar to her. She noticed he and Cindi each had one in front of them.

  “What’s this for?”

  “Surviving Monday Night Football.”

  She eyed the golden liquid in the glass in front of her. “Why wasn’t it this crazy yesterday?”

  “Lots of people go to friends’ houses and have parties and stuff on Sundays, but it’s tradition to come here for Monday night and Alabama games.”

  “Sam always said football was a religion in Alabama. I didn’t believe him.”

  She lifted her glass as the others lifted theirs. They clicked them together, Liam’s knuckles brushing against hers, and she slugged back the drink. She closed her eyes against the burn, and when she opened them again, he was grinning. She frowned, uncertain what he’d expected her to do, and the three of them started cleaning up.

  An hour later, he slid the rolling shade down over the bar, locked it and linked an arm through each of the girls’ arms as they walked out.

  “I’ve got my car.” Cindi broke away when they reached the parking lot. She waved good night and got in.

  Liam turned to Harley, who released his arm as well. “I’ll walk you home.”

  The late hour did give her the heebie-jeebies, but, “Starfish Shores is safe, isn’t it?”

  “Safest place I ever lived. But Sam would never forgive me if I let something happen to you.”

  She was torn between being offended he was only offering because of Sam, and being reassured that he had no other motive. She would feel better if he walked her home. She nodded and led the way.

  “So once football season is over, does business slow down until Spring Break?”

  “Little bit. Saturdays and Mondays are my busiest days in the off-season, and they keep me afloat until the tourists come back.” He looked at her. “You still going to be working for me at Spring Break?”

  “Unlikely.”

  “Have you thought about what you want to do?”

  “Something that requires less agility, less time on my feel and fewer grabby hands.”

  He stopped. “Somebody been hassling you?”

  She waved her hand. “No, it was nothing. I took care of it. I am a big girl. Unless it’s late and dark.”

  “I don’t tolerate that in my bar, Harley. If someone gives you a bad time, let me know.”

  “I. Took care of it.” She started forward.

  He was still scowling when he caught up to her. “I don’t like anyone giving any woman in my bar a bad time. It’s a place where everyone should feel comfortable. All you have to do is let them know you’re Sam’s sister and they’ll back off.”

  “I let them know I don’t take shit, and they backed off.” She pulled her keys out of her pocket as they walked up the steps to the house. She should send him home, especially since she was claiming she could take care of herself, but she’d feel better if he had a look around the house first.

  She opened the door and he let her precede him, then moved past her to check both bedrooms and the bathroom and kitchen without being asked. She was still standing at the door when he returned. Too late, she recognized the significance of waiting by the door, like they’d been on a date.

  “I need a favor,” she said, crossing the room to put distance between them. “I mean, if you can, of course. I want to get the house ready for Sam’s return, and I need to go get a Christmas tree. I don’t know where to go, and I’m not great at driving Sam’s SUV. Would you take me?”

  “Sure.” The look he gave her was unreadable. “You want to go Thursday? That’s my slowest day, so I open later.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  He hesitated, his hand on the door. “We’ll grab some lunch while we’re out, too.”

  She nodded, though her stomach fluttered. This was sounding a lot like a date. What had she done?

  ***

  Who knew Wednesday night’s episode of a singing reality show would draw a crowd at The Pit? Harley had to admit it was fun watching the different groups cheering for different contestants, berating the opponents, even drawing Harley, who knew nothing about the competition, into their arguments.

  That Liam also had a favorite contestant amused her. He wasn’t above cheering for his favorite at the risk of alienating his patrons. She enjoyed watching him argue—and Brenda enjoyed it too. But Harley’s gaze was the one he searched out again and again.

  “Who knew you were such a music critic?” she teased, placing her tray on the bar.

  “Hey, I know good sing
ing when I hear it.”

  “And the fact that she’s a cute little blonde has nothing to do with it.”

  “Not a particular fan of cute little blondes.” His eyes glinted as he loaded up her tray with her order. “My taste runs to tall brunettes.” Before she could react, he went on. “You’ve got a wedding party over there. Good-sized crowd. You up for it?”

  She turned in the direction he was pointing. A group of eight attractive people had crowded around a table near the edge of the deck. “If they don’t mind me carrying out their drinks two at a time.”

  “I can put Cindi on them.”

  She took a deep breath. “I got it.” But she grabbed a notepad from the bar to make sure.

  When she returned to the bar, Liam stepped over to take the order she’d written down. He glanced at it, picked up a pitcher and pulled the tap to fill it. “I found a place for us to get your Christmas tree.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t think there were a lot of options on the beach.”

  His grin widened. “I found a place where we could cut down our own. Ever do that?”

  Not since she was a little girl, and that had been a disaster. Her father had gotten lost in the woods of Oregon on the way to the tree farm. The tree had been too big for their minivan, and her mother had ended up with the flu for Christmas, which she blamed on being frozen to the bone on their trek. They’d never repeated the experience.

  At least in Alabama, there was no risk of freezing.

  “That doesn’t sound like a very Alabama-like tradition.”

  He leaned on the bar. “Sweetheart, Alabama tradition is lots of food and lots of football. If you want to stick with that, we can go to Walmart in Gulf Shores and get one there.”

  “I don’t want you to go to any trouble. We can just go to Walmart.” That way she wouldn’t be romanticizing him in their time together.

  He scoffed. “Sam deserves the best when he gets home. But we need to get an earlier start.”

  ***

  Being ready at nine o’clock after working until one was way too early. Harley opened the front door, bleary-eyed, when Liam rang the doorbell. Mia bounded past him into the house. Harley lunged for the dog and caught her by the collar before she did any damage.

  “Sorry about that.” Liam held up the two cups of coffee as an excuse not to help her. “I didn’t want to leave her alone.”

  She straightened, fingers looped through the collar. The day was warm, but she found it amusing that he was wearing a Crimson Tide T-shirt, shorts and flip-flops to go Christmas tree shopping. She traded her hold on the dog for a cup.

  “Tired of Brenda’s?”

  “This was more convenient.”

  He didn’t offer more, and she didn’t want to pry, but she suspected he had another reason for changing coffee shops. Instead, she sipped gratefully, then followed him down the sidewalk to the truck. Mia jumped into the cab to sit in the middle, and Harley crawled in beside her.

  “How far is this place?”

  “About eighty miles inland. You okay with that?”

  She looked around the dog at him. “Are you? I mean, you’re spending your day hunting down a Christmas tree.”

  “It’s for Sam, right?”

  “You miss him that much?”

  “It’s weird not having him around.”

  “I guess.” She buckled in and found a cup holder on the door, away from Mia. “I didn’t ask him because he sprang this trip on me last minute, but is he seeing someone? I didn’t see him with anyone at the going-away party.”

  “Nah, he hasn’t in a while.”

  “He’s not still freaked out by Theresa taking off on him, is he?”

  “That didn’t help matters any.”

  “That sucks. I liked her.”

  “I did, too, but she needed to do what she needed to do.”

  “She didn’t need to break Sam in the process.”

  “Don’t think he’s pining away for her. He’s getting plenty of action. Ex-football player/Coast Guard/bar owner plays pretty well. He just doesn’t stick long.”

  “And what is your excuse?”

  He looked over Mia’s head and winked. “Just started looking. I was having too much fun before.”

  She wanted to ask where Brenda fit into his search, but she didn’t. He had mentioned last night that his type ran to tall brunettes, not curvy redheads, and she didn’t want to give him another opening—or give herself another opening to think about that possibility. Her heart—and her pride—were just healing. Could she trust her emotions right now?

  ***

  The Christmas tree farm was fairly busy for the middle of the week, probably because there weren’t too many like it this far south. The guys working dressed like Liam, and the one who approached them even had a Crimson Tide shirt, though it didn’t mold to his shoulders as nicely as Liam’s, and it stretched a bit over his belly. Mia bounded to the end of her leash to greet the newcomer, and gave a yelp when she ran out of line.

  “Roll Tide,” the guy said, stepping around her to offer his hand to Liam. “I’m Doug. What can I help you with today?”

  “Just a simple tree, maybe four feet tall,” Harley said before Liam could take charge. “We don’t have a lot of space for it.”

  “First Christmas together?” Doug asked, looking from one to the other.

  “No! No, oh, no,” she said automatically. “I’m getting it for my brother’s place. Where I’m staying. Not with Liam.”

  Liam’s amused smirk told her she was babbling, so she slammed her lips together.

  “Got it. Small tree.” Doug turned and let the way to a grove of smaller trees. “So, you think the Tide can take it all the way this year?” he asked Liam.

  “They’re looking as good as I’ve ever seen them.”

  She shot him a look. The Tide had won the championship when he and Sam had been sophomores—she’d never forget the excitement of going to the game to see her brother play, to see the fervor of the fans. Liam and Sam had both made critical plays that led to the victory—but Liam didn’t mention it now. Actually, despite all the Crimson Tide paraphernalia in the bar, she didn’t hear him talk about it much at all. Now he stood back, talking Alabama football with Doug, and held Mia’s leash while Harley inspected tree after tree before selecting the prettiest, if a little bigger than she’d wanted.

  But making the decision, however small, felt good.

  ***

  “Why didn’t you tell him you played at Alabama?” Harley asked over barbecue at a drive-in on the side of the road leading back to Starfish Shores. They sat at a plank picnic table on a gravel lot and kept an eye on Mia in the truck as they ate. The day was warm enough that Harley wished she’d worn shorts, too.

  Liam licked the sauce from his fingers and set the rib bone down on the butcher paper. “Why? Lots of guys played for them.”

  “Well, clearly you’re proud of it, given the decorations in the bar.”

  “Sure. We both are.”

  “But you didn’t say anything when Doug was talking about how great the Tide were.”

  He leaned on the table and pulled his Styrofoam cup of iced tea closer. “Sometimes people want to go over the game piece by piece. It was fourteen years ago, not something I think about every day. I mean, it was great, a great experience, and I was proud to be a part of it, but sometimes I just want to keep it to myself.”

  “I guess. I just figured, you know, guys like to brag. Especially about stuff like that.”

  “Sure, we do. But there’s a time and a place.”

  “I never made any of the teams I tried out for in school. I couldn’t think fast enough in basketball, wasn’t coordinated enough for softball, and I had a bad experience in volleyball.”

  “Yeah? What happened?”

  “I kind of got tangled in the net and broke my finger.” She held up the ring finger of her left hand. “It never did heal straight.”

  “Tangled in the net? What were you doi
ng?”

  “Trying to save a bad hit and get it over the net. I told you I wasn’t coordinated.”

  “Grew out of that, though.” His smile was warm as he picked up the next rib.

  She should tell him to quit that, saying those flirty little things that made her imagination run wild. But they made her feel so good, especially coming from him. What would her life be like if she’d been with him for seven years instead of Tony? Would he have cheated on her, too? Found her boring?

  Her pride still stung over Tony’s abandonment. A good sign, maybe, that her pride was hurt more than her heart, but she needed to keep her guard up. She needed to find herself before she turned again to any man.

  ***

  Decorating the Christmas tree with the windows open was definitely not an Oregon tradition. The cool breeze blew from the south, off the water, bringing the scent of the sea to mingle with that of the pine. Harley loved the combination, as unlikely as it was. Liam set the tree in the stand, then stepped back to cut the rope. The branches burst free, taking up more than the allotted space in the corner, covering up most of one of Sam’s armchairs.

  Liam laughed at the dismay on her face. “It’s only for a couple of weeks. Nobody needs to sit in that chair anyway.”

  “Or see out the window, or get into the kitchen.”

  “It’s not that bad. You’ll just have to turn sideways.” He demonstrated, sidling into the kitchen along the wall, hands above his head. “Let’s get out the lights.”

  They’d had to stop at Walmart after all to pick up some decorations, since she doubted Sam had any, and Liam didn’t. Together they opened and straightened the strands of old-fashioned bulbs. Liam lifted his end, arms stretched out, and hooked it around the top.

  “No, they’re too close together,” she protested when he wound them in a tight spiral. “We won’t have enough lights for the bottom.”

  “Harley, we bought three boxes. The tree’s not that big. We’ll have enough.”

  “No, seriously.” She handed him her end of the strand and leaned past him to undo what he’d done.