“I love you,” he says against my neck, and I feel it in his body. He’s close.
“I love you too,” I repeat. The words come straight from the heart, forged from deep within my soul. I dig my heels into his ass, encouraging him to break me in half. He finds his secondwind before sucking in a deep breath and unravels inside me. I lift and kiss his jaw, and we both let out a satisfied sigh.
After we take a shower together, washing each other’s bodies from head to toe, Liam and I crawl into bed. My heart has finally slowed to a steady pace, and I drift off to sleep.
The next morning, I wake to the smell of eggs. The little cabin was stocked with food for the weekend, but I didn’t think Liam would make me breakfast. I should’ve, though, because it’s one of our things at home. Hurrying, I slip on one of his T-shirts and walk into the kitchen where he’s cooking with a cup of coffee in one hand and a spatula in the other.
“Sleeping Beauty is awake.” he grins.
“I feel sex drunk.” I laugh, trying to smooth down my hair. I do the best I can, then decide to just go with it. Liam’s seen the good, the bad, and the ugly when it comes to me, and somehow, he hasn’t run away yet. It’s official. He’s a keeper.
I sit at the small bar, and he hands me a cup of English Breakfast tea. “Fancy,” I murmur before taking a sip.
The cracking sounds of the fireplace pop in the background, and I look at the huge window. Snow covers everything now, and it’s no longer a light dusting. A smile touches my lips because this was Sophie’s wedding wish.
“So…” I glance at Liam. “Got the wedding bug yet?”
He grins, pointing the utensil at me before going back to the stove. “The real question is, do you?”
“I’ve been planning my wedding since I was five years old,” I admit, but back then, it was more of a Disney dream with me being the princess and finding my Prince Charming. “But I don’t want to get married until I graduate. Just one more year.”
Liam plates the eggs and toast and sets them in front of us. “Is that a hint?”
Shrugging, I inhale my food.
“Marriage is a big deal,” he says. “I’ve already been divorced once. You sure you want that baggage?”
His phone buzzes on the bar, and I see his dad’s contact.
“Are you gonna answer that?” I ask, knowing his dad doesn’t call him very often but has more now since Victoria came into the picture. Liam broke the news to him about the divorce but left out all the dirty details.
Liam silences it. “I’ll call him back later. I’m having breakfast with my girl.”
I take a sip of tea and look at him. Studying his face, I take in the scruff on his chin, the way his bottom lip has an indent, and the way the corners of his mouth naturally turn up. “That divorce wasn’t your fault. That was a business arrangement.”
“So you’re saying I still have a chance for a happily ever after?” He’s joking with me, the mood staying light and playful.
“Maybe a ten percent chance,” I throw out.
“Ten? That’s insanity. I think it’s more at ninety.”
I giggle. “You’re quite confident, aren’t you? What about kids?”
Liam stills, and it feels as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. He looks at me, then back at his plate. After a minute, I interrupt his thoughts.
“You don’t have to answer that. Forget I asked.” I grab his hand.
“Kids are a big step. I always thought a family wasn’t something I wanted or deserved. After what my mother did to my father and me, I vowed I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to bring a child into this fucked-up world to have their heart broken like mine was. But when I look at you, for the first time, I see a future. I imagine the wedding, the house, the dog, the kids. All of it.”
I swallow hard at his confession. It warms my heart to hear him say those things. The room suddenly feels hot, and my skin prickles with goose bumps.
“I don’t want to lose you. There’s a future for us, which scares the shit out of me. I’ve never, ever felt this way about anyone in my life. Only you, Maddie.”
Tears swell in my eyes, and when I blink, they trail down my cheeks. “Liam…”
“But that’s not the answer you were looking for.” He clears his throat. “Yes, I’d have kids with you, Mads. They’d be smart-asses like you and hardheaded like me, and they’d learn how to dance or play football.”
I move onto his lap, nearly straddling him in the barstool.