Page 66 of Push

“Yes?” He sighed. “Gwen, I sense you’re unhappy with me.”

Seriously? “Yes.”

“Would you have preferred me to reserve the invitation to spend time with Eli…for…you?”

“What?” My cheeks heated. “Absolutelynot.”

“I’m not entirely comfortable with the idea of my sister fornicating—”

I flapped my hand at him topleasestop as I wheezed in more breaths.

Liam tried one of his false smiles, but they didn’t work on me. “I think only of you, clever Gwen. It’s for the best you don’t get mixed up with him unless you plan to add to your brood. The clock is ticking, and Mama Serrano grows impatient for her grandbabies.” He grimaced. “I believe she’s hoping for at least two of the venomous little creatures.”

I scrubbed a hand down my face. “And not forgetting, of course, that Elias is one of my bosses?”

Liam’s head cocked. “The fact he’s your boss is the problem?”

“Yes?”

“You don’t object because he’s small?”

Now, it was my turn to smirk. “I thought you said he’s packing eight inches.”

Liam’s chuckle was light and almost believable. “Touché.” He tapped the white envelope with his index finger. “No more distractions from the artist or talks about my friend’s prowess in the bedroom.” He slid the envelope closer. “My contract, if you please.”

I flipped open the top of the envelope and pulled out the thick wad of paper. “Wait.” I glanced up at him. “How did you know Marnie was an artist?”

“Observation. The paintbrush stuck through her bun. Dried clay on her wrist. People give away more of themselves than they realize.”

“You’re as weird as ever, you know that?”

“Save your compliments.” He tapped the pile of papers in front of me on the counter. “Please.”

I scanned the first page. Then, the second. Some deal to buy a high-rise in the city. Commercial property wasn’t my forte, but it wasn’t my first rodeo, either. Two internships at commercial law firms, and I’d seen enough of these types of contracts to know I never wanted to work in a commercial firm. It was funny—or maybe sad—how life turned out.

Liam hovered impatiently as I flicked the lid off a pen and started marking corrections. Occasionally, he gave me an inch of breathing room to sidle up to the chopping board, humming as he nibbled on a piece of celery.

Twelve-year-old me was bursting with a huge smile and doing snow angels on the fadedKim Possiblequilt that had covered mybed. My older brother was standing beside me. Growing up, he’d been my only friend, the one who’d understood the quiet hell that had raged in the cramped apartment we’d called home for too long. Thirty-year-old me fluttered between“What the hell?”and“Weirdest day of my life.”

When the front door shut and baby squeals echoed down the hallway, Liam’s impatience soared to new heights. He grunted with annoyance. A piece of celery went flying.

“Gwen, you here?” Toby’s voice called out. He was probably kicking off his shoes by the front door. “I think I’m losing my mind. I could’ve sworn the guy chatting to Marnie outside was that rich guy who hangs out with—”

My gaze lifted to see Toby already standing in the doorway. Noah rode high on his daddy’s shoulders, chubby fingers tugging Toby’s hair like the reins of a pony, an enormous gummy grin lighting up his face.

Noah was the only one smiling.

“Um… Gwen?” Toby’s face scrunched up with confusion. “Why is your brother in our kitchen?”

Great question.I tapped my pen on the pile of paper. “He needs this contract checked over.”

Toby’s lips pressed together. “Andyou’rechecking the contract because…?”

I shrugged. “It’s my job.” Sort of. On weekdays. Appropriate boundaries still had to be negotiated.

“He’syour new boss?” A sharpness edged Toby’s voice.

Liam uttered a soft tsk by my ear. “You didn’t tell your husband about me either? Gwen, this time, Iamoffended.”

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