Page 25 of Stronger Than Love

Officially, I was a horrible bitch.

My hair was dragged up in a messy bun since my trembling fingers didn’t possess the finesse to tame it into submission as Aoife did with her regimented hairstyles of straight hair and sleek ponytails. My long, black gypsy-style skirt was paired with a gossamer purple blouse over a vest top. I spent my life in surgical scrubs, so everything I wore was loose.

Instead of waiting for Liam to come to the house to spike Niall’s attention, I wandered down the lane in my flip-flopsand stood at the side of the beach, watching the waves. A motorbike pulled up beside me, and I only realised it was Liam when he snapped his visor up.

“You’re not exactly dressed for the open road,” he commented dryly.

My eyebrows shot up. “Since when did you start riding a bike?” I queried.

A slow grin spread over his face. “I love anything that allows me to go at speed with the wind in my hair.”

“You always did, especially if it was on water,” I muttered, pulling my skirt between my legs to climb on behind him.

“Hold on, we’re only going up the road to my house,” he shouted over the roar of the engine.

The sleek, black bike suited him. If you were to design a bike that represented Liam Doherty, this would be it. It was beautiful yet deadly with a feral element.

He brought the bike to a stop outside the entrance to the house I noticed was built on our mound. The gates swung open and he addled up the driveway.

I’m going to build a house for us on this spot one day.His words from so long ago floated through my mind. I’d spent a decade running from him, yet he spent that time carving the life he promised me. The apple trees signified all the times we climbed the ones in the orchard. He parked the bike around the back of the property and my eyes widened when I realised he hadn’t demolished the small faery mound, but incorporated it into the layout of the faerytale garden he’d created.

Shimmering lights interspaced around the garden to create a magical atmosphere that brought it to life. There was a water feature off to the side that produced the gentle lapping sound of the ocean. Liam hadn’t missed one of the aspects I chatted about wanting in a garden when I was younger.

If I could feel any lower as a person right now, I would. The pressure in my chest increased until tears threatened to spill. This should have been our home. The apple trees screamed for children to play in them and he’d kept the large tree we used to hide under when it rained. It was the perfect size and shape to accommodate a treehouse.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me.

Liam shrugged, hanging his helmet on the handlebars. “I had a few ideas given to me over the years.”

The house inside oozed his personality through small touches, such as shells and rocks from his travels. Pictures of him and his brothers were mounted on the wall in the hall that led through to the kitchen.

“Callum and Declan live here with me most of the time. We all have our own places in Belfast, but when we’re down here, this is home.”

The kitchen was designed with a massive island at the centre created from black marble. Silver machines accentuated the black and gave it a sci-fi vibe.

“I’m not the chef of the family, Dec normally cooks when he’s home,” Liam chatted while pulling ingredients from the fridge.

I hunted around until I found what I needed and started to prepare the chicken and vegetables to make a stir-fry. He stood with his hip propped against the counter watching me, a faint smile dancing on his lips.

“I always wondered what you’d look like in this kitchen,” he murmured in explanation when I stared at him in question.

“I guess you no longer have to,” I replied with a wink.

The worst part of this entire scenario was that I could see myself here cooking and baking. It felt like someone kicked me in my solar plexus and I took a steadying breath. One decision had thrown my life off course and I couldn’t see how to fix it and make everything right.

“Do you have any soy sauce?”

Liam bent over to hunt through a cupboard. His ass fit those jeans to perfection and really deserved to have my hands running over it in adoration. I sucked in a breath and focused on the task in front of me, dicing the chicken with vicious blows.

The bottle appeared beside me, followed by a bottle of beer.

Instead of chatting, Liam pulled up a barstool to the island and watched me while sipping his beer.

“Plates,” I instructed, tilting my head at him in mock annoyance.

He slid from the stool to stand his full height before retrieving plates and cutlery. “Table or island?” he asked, nodding to a table in a sunroom off the kitchen.

“Wherevers comfortable,” I replied with a shrug of one shoulder.

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