Until There Was You (14 page)

Now, intellectually, Liam knew that there weren’t exactly roaming gangs of burglars wandering the streets of Bellsford, and he also knew that the Tates tended to kick the old stress level into the red zone, which tended to bring on flares of OCD, and he knew that just because the door wasn’t locked didn’t mean that some knife-wielding maniac was about to burst in, but the fucking door wasn’t locked. And as much as he really, really would love to not obsess over that, he wasn’t succeeding. Might as well get it over with and lock the damn door, because all he could think about, other than Nicole dying in a fiery Air France crash, was the fact that the door was unlocked, and Cordelia Osterhagen was staring at him warily, and he might as well just lock the damn thing and turn to nicer thoughts. Like Cordelia in the shower.

He reached behind her, and she jumped back a step, as if afraid he was going to hit her. Or grab her. “I’m just locking the door,” he said, the words a little sharp.

“Oh.”

He turned the lock, listening for the satisfying thunk of the dead bolt in the hasp. Then he unlocked it. Locked it again. Unlocked it. Locked it. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a second, then glanced at Cordelia, who was looking at him steadily. Once more couldn’t hurt. Unlock. Lock. Done.

“Problem?” she asked.

“No,” he said. He folded his arms over his chest, vaguely aware that he was being a prick and had barely spoken to her. “Thank you for bringing this over. Whatever it is.”

“Do you want to see it? It’s—”

“No, that’s fine. Just…her bedroom’s down the hall on the right.” He went to pick up the box, but she grabbed it at the same time.

“It’s fragile,” she said.

“I thought you said it was heavy.”

“It is. Heavy and fragile.” She scowled at him, looking like a little kid. Fine. She wanted to carry it, no big deal.

Liam led her down the hall and stopped in front of Nicole’s door. He knocked. “Nic? Cordelia’s here with your thing.”

Nicole’s door opened. “Hi!” she said. “Thank you so much for bringing this! But I thought your name was Posey.”

“My real name is Cordelia, but everyone calls me Posey. Except lunkhead here.”

Nicole laughed, the sound making Liam’s heart squeeze. “Come on in. I can’t wait to see what it is!”

Cordelia put the package on the bed, then reached into her pocket and withdrew a Leatherman, a very helpful tool that Liam had never before seen on a woman. She sliced the tape, then stood back to let Nicole open the box. Nic pulled back the cardboard flaps, pushed aside some tissue paper. “Oh, cool!” she exclaimed.

“Here, let me get it out for you,” Cordelia said.

She pulled the rather large object out of the packaging. Liam recognized it immediately, the memory slamming him in the chest like a fist.

It was a large white clock encircled with a ring of pink neon. Painted on the wooden backing were the words
Time for Ice Cream!

“I love it! It’s so retro,” Nicole exclaimed.

Cordelia glanced at Liam, who was staring at the clock. “It’s from Sweetie Sue’s,” she said.

He didn’t answer. Memories of Emma, grinning up at him in her pink uniform as she packed a scoop of ice cream into a cone, the chill of the white metal chairs where he’d sit, waiting for her shift to end.

“What’s Sweetie Sue’s?” Nicole asked.

Liam swallowed.

“It was an ice cream parlor here in town,” Cordelia said after a beat. “Your mom worked there in high school.”

“Really?” Nicole asked.

Liam distantly heard Cordelia’s voice as she explained where Sweetie Sue’s had been, the other things she’d salvaged from the store before it was torn down. An old freezer. The milkshake machine.

“I’m gonna put it right over my bed,” Nicole announced. “It’s so neat that Mommy saw this clock every day, too.” She touched it gently, almost reverently. “Dad? Can we put it up?”

Liam cleared his throat. “Sure. I’ll go get some tools. We can do it right now.”

Nicole hopped over and threw her arms around him for a brief hug. “It’s a great present,” she said. “I love it, Daddy.”

“Thank Cordelia. She picked it out.”

Cordelia was looking at him, chewing on her bottom lip, hands in her pockets, her eyebrows drawn together.

“Well, thanks, both of you,” Nicole said, going back to gaze at the clock.

“I’ll get my tools. Be right back.”

Leaving the two females in the bedroom, Liam headed to the kitchen closet, where he kept his toolbox. But he just stood there for a moment, the memories of Emma pulling at him like quicksand. God, he had loved her back then. The idea that a girl like that would choose a guy like him…it was staggering.

“Liam?”

Cordelia again. “Hey,” he said, reaching for the toolbox.

“I’m sorry.”

He glanced at her. Her hands were jammed in the front pockets of her jeans. “What for?”

“The clock. It… I should’ve given you some warning. I just… I didn’t…”

“Well, you asked me if I wanted to see it, and I said no.” He paused. “It’s great, Cordelia. It’s perfect.”

Her eyes widened a little. “It is?”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He yanked the toolbox from where it was wedged on the bottom shelf. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing. It’s a gift.”

“Yes. A gift for my daughter, which I’ll pay for. How much, Cordelia?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Nothing.”

“I can afford to pay for a gift for my own child, Cordelia.”

“Well, too bad, biker boy,” she snapped. “Your wife was always nice to me, and I was sorry—I was always sorry she and I didn’t stay in touch,” she finished, and he suspected she was about to say something else. “The clock’s not worth a heck of a lot, anyway.” Her gaze wandered to the refrigerator, which was covered with photos. Nicole had taken a picture of their fridge in San Diego, then recreated the exact order when they moved in here. Mostly photos of Nic herself…dressed as a pumpkin for Halloween when she was four, riding her bike, missing her front teeth. But a few of him and Emma, too.

“Anyway. Sorry if it brought stuff up,” Cordelia said in a gentler voice.

“It’s okay. It really is perfect.” He looked at her for a long minute. Her blush began underneath the flannel and crept up her neck, into her jaw and cheeks. She looked away, and Liam’s mood suddenly lightened. Cordelia was a woman, a straight woman (he thought, anyway), and it was nice to see she wasn’t immune to him. Made things feel more even somehow.

“Dad! Can you hang up my clock or what?” Nic called from down the hall.

“Coming, Master,” he said. He grinned at Cordelia. “Stay here a sec. I want to ask you something. But duty calls.”

A
LONE IN
L
IAM
M
URPHY’S
kitchen.

Posey supposed she’d have to stop thinking of him as Liam Murphy, just trim it down to Liam, but still. He had that celebrity feel. Too hot for regular life.

As if on cue, Posey’s phone buzzed. She pulled it out—a text from Jon.
Holy Justin Bieber, did I hear u say ur going 2 Nicole Murphy’s? The father is totally hot. 2 young 4 me?

I’m standing in his kitchen,
Posey texted back.
Will try to steal you something.

How about a lock of hair?

Posey grinned.
I was thinking of a sock. Gotta go. xox

From down the hall came the sound of a drill.
Drill me, Liam.
Posey rolled her eyes at herself. Some hammering.
Nail me, pal.
“Okay, down, you ho,” she muttered, wandering to the fridge for a better look at the photos there. Nicole had been a wicked cute baby. No surprise there, not with her DNA. There was a nice shot of Emma and Nicole, when Nicole was about ten. Posey’s throat tightened again. So hard to believe the gorgeous woman with the bright smile was just gone.

Well. Here was another picture—Liam in scrubs, holding a tiny pink package. Now that was the money shot, wasn’t it? Dopey dad-love shone in his face as he gazed at his red-faced daughter. He looked so
young.
So happy, too, and so sure. How was it that Liam Murphy had found the way to make a family at age…what? Twenty, twenty-one? Posey had grown up in the stable, unwavering embrace of Max and Stacia and had never even come close to marriage, let alone a family. Liam and Emma had met as teenagers and made something special. Those pictures didn’t lie. Posey was scanning websites for a spouse as if ordering a coat from L.L. Bean. Liam and Emma had made a family before they were old enough to buy a six-pack.

“Hey, Posey, come see it!” Nicole called, and obediently Posey trotted down the hall.

“It looks great,” she said.

“I love it.” Nicole gave her a look. “So, Posey, if you knew my mom, did you also know my father back then?”

Posey glanced at Liam, who narrowed his eyes slightly in warning. “I sure did,” she said, feeling the start of a smile warm her chest.

“What was he like?” Nicole asked.

“What was he like? Or what did he
think
he was like?” Posey asked, her grin spreading.

“Watch it,” Liam muttered.

“Both! Why? Was he a jerk?” Nicole asked, clapping her hands in delight.

“It was like having Heath Ledger wander the halls of our little high school, Nicole,” Posey said. “Leather jacket, ripped jeans, crappy grades, the whole cliché.”

“Not all my grades were bad,” he countered.

“Girls wanted to, uh, date him, men wanted to be him. He was
so
intense,” Posey said, getting a laugh from Nicole.

“Dad! You always make it sound like you were perfect!”

“Oh, he was.” Posey sighed dramatically. “Perfectly dreamy.”

“Ew!” Nicole squealed.

“Okay, I’m gonna start supper,” Liam said.

“Which is my cue to go,” Posey said.

“Oh, can you stay for a minute?” Nicole asked. In the doorway, Liam paused. “I want to ask Posey about Mom,” she added.

“Sure,” he said and then was gone down the hall.

Odd, to picture Liam Murphy cooking dinner. Setting the table, making sure his kid had green veggies and stuff like that.

“Can you, like…I don’t know, just tell me a little bit about my mom?” Nicole asked, sitting on her bed. Her expression was eager.

Posey took a seat in the desk chair. “Sure,” she said. “Um, I went to Sweetie Sue’s a lot.” Nicole grinned, and Posey smiled back. “She always gave me an extra scoop for free.”

“She was great about dessert,” the girl said, her eyes getting a little wet. “Way more mellow than Dad. What else?”

“Well, we went to the same church, so I saw her there sometimes,” Posey said. “Your dad worked at my parents’ restaurant, so she’d drop by once in a while. She was always really friendly. Chatty. She was just…nice. Genuine, you know? She wanted everyone to be happy. Her nickname was Little Miss Sunshine.”

“Really? Like how? What did she do?”

Posey paused. “Well, she was always organizing food drives and recycling programs at school. Stuff like that. And she…gave me advice about clothes and stuff.”

“She had amazing clothes,” Nicole said wistfully. She looked at Posey again. “Anything else? Sorry if I’m, like, pumping you for details. I just…” The girl cleared her throat. “I love hearing about her when she was my age.”

Posey nodded. “Sure. Well, she…sort of arranged for me to go to the prom,” she said carefully.

“Really? She fixed you up?” Posey nodded. “Did you guys go with her and Daddy?”

“No. They, uh, they were with different people. You know how it is.”

“No, I don’t,” Nicole said with a huff. “I probably never will, either. Dad’s, like, psycho about my social life. Mom would’ve been much cooler. She totally would let me date by now.”

Posey had to smile at that—the bad boy now a stodgy old dad, clattering around making dinner.

“He needs to get a life so he won’t be, like, obsessed with mine,” Nicole added. “Do you know anyone he could date? Maybe that hot chick at your restaurant?”

Posey’s smile felt stiff. “Uh…maybe. I—” She winced. “I could check.”

“Hey,” Nicole said, “do you want to stay for supper? Dad! Can Posey stay for supper?”

“Stop bellowing down the hall!” Liam bellowed from down the hall. There was a pause. “Sure. If she wants.” Such a halfhearted offer that Posey rolled her eyes.

“Do you?” Nicole asked. “You can tell me more stories, okay? About Mom
and
Dad. I can’t believe Dad was such a jerk!”

“Oh, um…he wasn’t a jerk.” Crap. “He was just…you know.”

“Just what, Cordelia?”

There he was, the King of Testosterone himself. “Just a little full of himself, that’s all.”

Again with the narrowed gaze…kind of hot, really. Nicole giggled.

“But once he met your mom, it was true love and all that good stuff,” Posey added.

“Are you staying?” Liam asked—not very nicely, she thought.

“Sorry. I have plans.”
Plans with my dog, that is,
she thought, getting up from the chair.
A dog who has better manners than you.
“Maybe another time.”

“Bye, Posey! Thank you so much for the clock! I love it.” The girl bounced off her bed and hugged her.

“See you around,” Posey said, patting Nicole on the shoulder, her eyes growing wet. Emma’s daughter seemed just as sweet as her mother. “It was really nice meeting you.”

“After you,” Liam said, standing back to let Posey pass. She went down the hall, past the kitchen and grabbed her backpack from where she’d dropped it earlier.

“See you around, Liam,” she called.

“Hang on,” he said, and she jumped. He was right behind her. She turned warily.

The whole aging-rock-star-still-dead-sexy look…it worked. She wondered what he looked like with his shirt off—tattoo, maybe? She’d be happy to check…centimeter by centimeter…with her tongue…?.
Enough, Posey!
Guys like Liam—the last thing they needed was yet another ego massage from yet another swoony woman. Besides, she’d pined over him enough for several lifetimes.