Page 35 of Izzy and Her Off-Limits Love

As adorable as he looks in his pajamas and as much as I like the sound of a gift—and coffee—I kind of want to throw Liam into the ocean right now.

Nevertheless, I meet him downstairs a few minutes later with freshly brushed teeth and a somewhat better attitude. I did not bother brushing my hair but stuck it in a messy bun with a sprig of fake holly that I pulled off a tabletop decoration on the way to the sun porch.

They’ve upgraded, adding fancy baseboard heating along the wall, and Liam clearly prepared because the room is toasty. When he sees me, he jumps up from the loveseat, looking a little flustered. Maybe nervous?

“Hey,” he says, giving me a hug and a kiss like he didn’t just see me ten minutes ago. Or basically all day every day for the last week. “Coffee or gift first?”

“Definitely gift.”

Liam falters a little, like he didn’t expect this answer. He really is nervous.

What kind of gift did he get me? Especially when we’ve barely had any time apart and our relationship is so new that anything he ordered would hardly have time to ship.

“Do you want to sit?” he asks, sounding a little stiff and formal.

I feel a little bad because he seems more nervous by the second. I sit down on the loveseat and put a hand on his knee when he joins me. “Hey—you know you didn’t need to get me anything, right? I mean, we barely had any time apart this week. My gift for you is really stupid. I’ll love whatever this is. It’s the thought that counts, as cheesy as that sounds.”

“Thanks,” he says, but his smile isn’t full strength. “I just … yeah. Maybe just open it.”

Liam pulls a small box from the table behind him. It’s lumpy and wrapped like someone used an entire roll of tape. I laugh. “Did Mandy help you wrap this?”

“How could you tell?” He smiles, but his hand goes to his glasses again, so I make short work of ripping it open. No sense in prolonging his nervousness.

Now, I’m nervous as I finally get the paper off to find a white box about half the size of a shoebox. Liam is silent as I pull off the lid.

But as I see what’s inside, I’m the one who can’t speak. I just stare down into the box, trying to process.

Because I don’t understand.

I glance up at Liam, and he’s biting his lip. His gaze darts over my face, trying to gauge my reaction. But I’m not sure what kind of reaction he expects.

“‘I quit’?” I say, picking up the piece of paper at the bottom of the box. Those two words are written in Liam’s handwriting. I hold it up. “My gift is that … you’re quitting? Quitting what?”

It doesn’t make sense that he’d be quitting us, quitting our relationship, but I cannot fathom what else it might mean.

“No, Iz.” Liam’s arms land on my shoulders, gently squeezing until I look up again and meet his warm gaze. “It’s for you to give to your job. I mean, if you want to quit.”

“You’re telling me to quit my job for Christmas—as a present?” Maybe I should have chosen coffee first because none of this computes.

Liam gives up on just squeezing my shoulders and pulls me into his lap, hugging me tight. “I’m doing this all wrong. I had this plan, and it made sense in my head, but it’s not translating and?—”

“Please, Liam. Just tell me what the gift actually is.”

He sighs, his breath stirring my hair. “I’m trying to offer you a job.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to take it,” he says quickly. “But you were so amazing working with me this week, and I know you hate your job, so I talked to Ben about what it would take to shift the budget around to bring on another full-time person. I’d like you to be the face of Make Change. You picked up on everything so quickly, and the way you were able to explain it to your people—well. I can’t do that. You’re better with people than I am, and I could really use your help.”

I don’t know what to say. I can’t say anything because the thoughtfulness of this shakes me. Liam spent a week observing me at work, saw how much I hate my regular job at Whitmire, and now wants to bring me on to work with him full-time?

“Maybe you wouldn’t want to work with me all the time,” he says quickly. “Or workforme, I guess, if we’re also dating, but you’d be so good and?—”

“I accept.”

Liam pulls back to look at me, his eyes lit with hope. “Really?”

“Are you kidding right now? My job isn’t at all what I thought it would be, and I love what your software can do for nonprofits, and I love working alongside you, and I love?—”

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