Playing Pretend by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

Thirty-Nine

Eliza

I’mready to head home to my shitty apartment, where the air smells like vinegar but holds much less tension. I never thought I’d say this, but it’s a devastating tradeoff I’m willing to contend with.

First, I just need to straighten up our dinner mess, and then I’ll sneak out while Liam wallows in whatever it is that has him so moody tonight.

I still can’t believe the man stormed off and left me to see our guests out on my own. I don’t even live here. This is Liam’s house and Liam’s mess and Liam’s all-important business deal. So it’s only fair that he’d have to stand there and put on a happy face for Mr. and Mrs. Varner alongside me.

But what’s done is done.

The big, important dinner is over and we can all put it behind us.

With a heavy sigh, I snatch up everyone’s plates and utensils and head into the ridiculously large kitchen. I pile the dishes into the sink and then make one more trip to grab the glassware.

There’s a fancy stainless steel dishwashing contraption tucked under the counter by the sink, but it looks more complicated than a spaceship and has more buttons than my B-O-B. So to avoid the risk of breaking something, I decide to do things the old fashioned way.

I’m digging in the lower cupboard to find a sponge and some dish soap when I hear Liam stalk into the room.

I ignore him, expecting him to do the same. Tonight was awkward as hell, and I’m sure he’s ready to have me out of his hair and have his mansion back all to himself.

If I had to guess, I say I don’t think the billionaire bachelor enjoys having a woman’s stuff strewn all around his home. I saw the way he stink-eyed my scarf on the coat hook. Like it was about to rob his beautiful home at gunpoint.

“Leave it all. The housekeeper will do it,” he grunts at me as he heads over to the liquor cabinet.

Armed with a squishy clean sponge in hand, I flip on the water faucet. “It’s okay. I clean up my own messes.” All my messes. Including the ones that aren’t even my fault.

“The housekeeper will do it!” Liam bites, almost shaking the cabinets with his exceptionally loud volume.

Okay, that’s it.

Eyes narrowed, I spin until I’m facing him. “Growing up, the housekeeper was my mother. My. Mother. She worked her ass off, cleaning the most disgusting crap, and yet she received zero respect from the people she worked for. So now, I. Clean up. My own. Messes.” I stab a finger in the air with each word, wishing I were poking his stone-hard chest instead. “If you can’t handle that, close your judgy eyes.”

I pivot, kick off my heels and get busy washing the mountain of dirty dishes.

For a moment, everything is silent around me. I wonder if he’s left the room or if he’s just standing there, laser-beaming at the back of my head.

Then out of nowhere, I hear him growl. He stomps up to the counter beside me and tears off his expensive watch, ripping back the clasp and slamming it onto the counter.

Poor watch.

I shouldn’t be staring at his large masculine hands as he aggressively removes his cufflinks, flippantly rolls his sleeves back and joins me at the sink.

“Fine,” he spits out. “Where the hell do we start?”

We work in an uncomfortable silence, side-by-side. I carefully wash each dish before handing it off to the grumpy human being, for him to dry. He’s not even that good at his drying job, but I have to give him credit for trying. I’m guessing it’s probably the first time he’s ever had to do dishes in his adult life, so the fact that he’s standing here and helping me, it feels like he’s come down a peg or two.

My mind flitters through tonight’s super weird dinner. Doing the double-date thing with your fake husband is like a scene right out of a horrible rom-com movie. And our performance as the leading couple was absolutely cringeworthy.

Still, in a rom-com, I’m pretty sure the fake husband’s touch isn’t supposed to affect me like this. Every time I’d feel Liam’s skin brush against mine at the dinner table, the slight contact delivered a bolt of electricity. It absolutely lit me on fire. Despite knowing deep down that every single one of his touches was fake and phony and forced.

Even now, when his finger tips brush mine, it warms up the lukewarm bubbles floating between us.

My eyes flick to his handsome face during every handoff, but he stubbornly refuses to look my way, focusing only on the task before us.

Frustration bubbles up inside me until I can’t hold it down anymore. “What the heck is your problem tonight?” I find myself growling.

“My problem?”

“Yes, your problem.” I fling my hands and soapy droplets splash and darken Liam’s crisp dress shirt.

He slams down the clean utensils in his hand and turns to face me. “My problem is that one minute, you’re giving me all the signs that you want something physical between us.” His jaw flexes when he swallows harshly. “Then, you’re telling me to keep things professional. Then when I respectfully follow your wishes, you act like I’m doing something wrong.” He tosses his dish towel into the soapy water. “It drives me crazy. I don’t know where I stand with you. You’re hot, then you’re cold. You’re on, then you’re off.”

I cock my head to the side, watching the anger steam out of him. “Are those…” My lips twitch. “Are those Katy Perry lyrics?”

But Liam’s not smiling. Just the opposite, in fact. “Ha-ha! You’re so fucking funny, aren’t you…?”

A growl bursts from my throat. “What’s so wrong with wanting to protect my reputation in the work environment? I don’t want my coworkers talking about me. About us. I’m new in town. I don’t want people making negative assumptions about me.”

“Who the fuck cares what your coworkers think?!” he barks as he stalks to the other side of the room. Frustration vibrates off his skin.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” I seethe. “You expect me to throw my reputation down the drain for you and I don’t even know how you feel about me.”

His expression goes lethally serious, darker and more intense than I’ve ever seen him. “I appreciate you."

He takes a step toward me.

"I admire you."

He takes another step closer.

"I adore you."

Now he's really closing in on me.

“That is how I feel about you. You are absolutely incredible and I'm crazy about you. I crave your company. I crave your laugh, your body."

I feel an overwhelming sense. “Liam, please..."

He hooks a hand around my waist and pulls me flush against him. "I want to worship you...I just wish you'd let me."

His imposing figure looms over me.

“I’m asking you one last time, Eliza.” His deep, dangerous voice causes somersaults in my gut. “What the hell do you want from me?”

I search the depths of his granite eyes. There’s only one thing left to say. “I want you to kiss me…”

A sexy rumble sounds from his throat and his hands latch onto my hips. “Then you should have just said so.”

I don’t know what takes over me. In an instant, I leap up and wrap my legs around him. Liam swings me around, drops me on the counter and takes my lips in a passionate kiss.