Page 6 of The Science of Attraction

And it ran like oxygen through my veins.

A broad smile stole over Liam’s face. “Not too shabby for a front yard.”

I snorted. “Yeah, it’s pretty all right. I just hope you don’t get bored. It’s hardly party central around here.” I unlatched the door to the cottage and let it swing open. When I turned back, Liam was wearing an amused smile.

“I can assure you that I don’t bore easily, and I’m a bit long in the tooth for partying hard. My recovery rate isn’t what it used to be.” The glint in his eye settled somewhere south of my belly.

I parried hard. “Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”

“Not at all. Thirty-nine. You?”

“Thirty-five, going on sixty-five some days.” I nodded toward the big house. “More so lately.”

Liam laughed and I liked the sound of it far too much. “If you give me a few weeks to get your dad moving more independently, things will hopefully improve.” He walked past me into the cottage, and I tried and failed not to notice the way those faded blue jeans hugged every centimetre of a nicely rounded arse.

The compact two-bedroom cottage wasn’t what you’d call luxurious, but my mother had an eye for stylish comfort at a good price, and all the station accommodation was furnished with practical cosiness in mind. I switched on the lights and set the heat pump to warm the place up.

“This is really nice.” Liam strolled around the room, his hand trailing across the back of a moss-green oversized couch and matching armchair. They faced a large open fireplace and groaned under a mountain of cream and grey cushions. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases stocked with a variety of reading matter framed the river stone hearth, while a door to one side led into the larger of the two bedrooms, which housed a king bed with red and green plaid furnishings.

The door to the second bedroom lay on the opposite side of the living space alongside a large desk. Throw mats covered the polished honey-coloured wooden floors between and a tidy, functional kitchen ran along the back wall together with a nicely renovated bathroom. A round dining table with four chairs completed the picture.

But the best part of all were the stunning views to be had from every room. The valley might unfold in spectacular fashion out front of the cottage, but the back kitchen window laid claim to its own breathtaking vista—a towering cradle of mountains looming over the station buildings like watchful sentinels.

“Damn, how am I ever going to get any cooking done?” Liam mused, staring through the kitchen window while I stared at his... well, let’s just say equally impressivepersonalscenery.

“This used to be our manager’s cottage,” I explained, dragging my attention back above the man’s waist. “But when Tennyson’s marriage broke up, he moved into the smaller of three apartments we developed in the old shearers’ quarters, freeing this two-bedroom one for guests. But there are three other cottages on the property as well. My brother, Zach, used to live in one, but he and his boyfriend now rent a property on Miller Station where he works. Let’s just say Zee’s coming out didn’t go down well.”

Liam’s brow arched. “Well, that sucks.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, it does.”

“Cute nickname though.”

I grinned. “He grumbles that he’s too old for it now, but I still find myself using it now and then. If it weren’t for Zach and Luke, my father might’ve died on the hill that day, and Dad knows it. It’s put him in a bit of a quandary and opened the door for them to start being around each other again, even if it’s awkward as hell. But getting real conversation out of my father is like getting blood from a stone.”

Liam raised a brow. “Point noted. I’ll assume I’m in for some challenging times, then.”

I winced. “Yeah, I’m just gonna apologise ahead of time.”

He smiled in that way that said he wasn’t too worried. “Well, I certainly appreciate the on-site accommodation. Bunking down in a bed and breakfast in-between travelling back and forth to Dunedin for so many weeks would’ve gotten old pretty quickly.” He pulled open a few kitchen cupboards, then moved on to the fridge, which my mother had stocked to within an inch of its life. He read the labels on a few of the jars and plastic containers and broke into a huge smile. “Wow. I wasn’t expecting all this.”

I shrugged. “My mother can’t help herself. You should have enough to cover you for the next few days until you can get to the Oakwood supermarket. But don’t buy too much. She’ll keep plying you with food, regardless. It’s a Mackenzie tradition.”

“You won’t catch me complaining.” Liam closed the fridge door and made his way across to the desk where once again he ran his hand over the smooth wood.

He clearly liked to touch things, and for a second of madness, I imagined those same fingers trailing down my back. I swallowed hard, my dick liking the idea of that far too much. “Well, everyone here is just thankful you had a cancellation and could fit us in.”

“Your mum’s call came at pretty much the perfect time.” Liam lifted a book on the Mackenzie Basin from the desk and flipped through the colour prints before putting it back. “I had a client with a back injury booked for a month of rehab, but his medical team decided to keep him longer in the spinal unit. And then there’s my doctoral thesis, which I hope to devote some solid time to with fewer distractions around.” He glanced out the window. “Or maybe not.”

His doctoral thesis?“What’s it on?”

He grimaced. “You’re gonna wish you didn’t ask. It’s dry as dust, but I’m studying the inequalities that exist for people trying to access rehabilitation services. And yes, I know, it’s kind of hypocritical, considering I mostly serve people who have zero access issues and a ton of spare money.” When I said nothing, he began to flush. “See, I warned you it was a dry topic.”

“No,” I argued. “Not at all. It’s just way out of my league. I mean, I did okay at uni, I guess, but research was never my thing. I suck at statistics.”

He huffed. “I bet you use a ton of them in one form or another on this station—lambing, breeding, pasture growth, dry-feed planning?”

I thought about what he said and smiled. “Yeah, I suppose I do. And I don’t think what you’re doing is hypocritical at all. All kinds of people need help.”

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