Page 85
Story: Free to Fall
“You’re ...” I flick my fingers toward his holster.
Uncle Keene runs a hand up and down my arm. “Don’t worry about it, kid. It’s a precaution.” Still, his eyes roam above my head as if searching for something.
Or . . . someone?
I wait for them to gather what they’re looking for and make their calls before I press on with the question I need an answer to. “What aren’t you telling me?”
They exchange long glances and my father’s gaze meets my eyes, barely, before skipping away. “Laura, if there was something to tell you, I would.”
I remain silent even as I shift my weight slightly. My every sense is telling me my father just lied to me. He knows more than he’s telling me.
The question is, why isn’t he sharing?
Chapter
Forty-Six
It’s the night of the Greenwich Hospital Annual Fundraiser. Liam is due at my house at any moment. Kalie and Grace have already gone ahead in a car sent by Amaryllis Events. Despite my offer to arrange transportation, Liam flatly refused, telling me he’d take care of it.
I’m standing downstairs in our living room waiting for Liam to arrive, my anxiety beginning to swirl. What am I thinking trying to attend an event like this with the threats against me? Especially with Liam Payne? He has a child! A wave of nausea hits me just as I hear the doorbell ring. I catch sight of my image in the beveled glass mirror above. Despite the deep blue of my gown, my skin is almost waxy.
No. Not now. I can’t have a panic attack when Liam’s about to come up the steps at any moment.
I try a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart.
Inhale. Exhale.
Inhale. Ex—
Ding. Dong.
Shit. The doorbell. Hand shaking, I reach for the handle and step back. Then my breath leaves my body for an entirely separate reason.
I’ve seen Liam in jeans and T-shirts. I’ve watched as he’s sauntered out the door in a thousand-dollar suit. Nothing could have prepared me for him in a custom-made tuxedo holding a small bouquet of flowers I recognize from long days slaving in the Amaryllis Florist workshop as a kid. In fact, the bouquet is wrapped in the distinctive paper Uncle Phil uses for his custom orders. Liam steps forward and holds it out to me. “Laura, I’d say you look magnificent, but that doesn’t even come close.”
My lips tremble when I gently touch a finger to the stem of each bloom. “You brought me roses, lavender, and jasmine wrapped in eucalyptus.”
A flag of color sweeps his cheeks. “I didn’t want to presume anything, but I thought it might help ease any last-minute tension you might feel about attending an event some of your colleagues will be at.”
Clutching the bouquet in one arm, I wrap my hand around his upper arm and press my lips to the underside of his jaw. Letting them linger for just a moment, I murmur, “I’m not certain how you knew what I’d be feeling.”
His fingers dance delicately over my cheek. “Probably because I’m feeling the same way, and I don’t have half the reason for it you do?”
Remaining close enough so my body absorbs the warmth of his, I ask, “Why could you possibly be nervous?”
The pupils of his eyes expand, eclipsing the green for just a moment as they roam me from the tip of my upswept hairdo to the hem of my dress. His fingers curl in slightly, setting off a whole different set of butterflies in my stomach. No, his response isn’t verbal, but it settles something inside me I didn’t realize was wound up so tightly.
Liam gestures at the flowers. “If you want to put them in some water, we have time.”
I clutch them tightly, not willing to leave them behind. “I actually want to take them in the limo.”
A slow smile spreads across his face. “Then do you need to get anything? We really should get going.”
“Let me grab my clutch.” Turning my back to him, I hear his hissed breath when he gets a load of the dramatic plunge to my dress.
Happy my back is to him to hide my smile, I’m fervently grateful to Emily for convincing me to go with such a striking design for this year’s gown that was in the making long before I met Liam Payne.
After I pick up my gold clutch, I whirl around. His green gaze is no less fiery when I saunter toward him. “I’m ready.”
Uncle Keene runs a hand up and down my arm. “Don’t worry about it, kid. It’s a precaution.” Still, his eyes roam above my head as if searching for something.
Or . . . someone?
I wait for them to gather what they’re looking for and make their calls before I press on with the question I need an answer to. “What aren’t you telling me?”
They exchange long glances and my father’s gaze meets my eyes, barely, before skipping away. “Laura, if there was something to tell you, I would.”
I remain silent even as I shift my weight slightly. My every sense is telling me my father just lied to me. He knows more than he’s telling me.
The question is, why isn’t he sharing?
Chapter
Forty-Six
It’s the night of the Greenwich Hospital Annual Fundraiser. Liam is due at my house at any moment. Kalie and Grace have already gone ahead in a car sent by Amaryllis Events. Despite my offer to arrange transportation, Liam flatly refused, telling me he’d take care of it.
I’m standing downstairs in our living room waiting for Liam to arrive, my anxiety beginning to swirl. What am I thinking trying to attend an event like this with the threats against me? Especially with Liam Payne? He has a child! A wave of nausea hits me just as I hear the doorbell ring. I catch sight of my image in the beveled glass mirror above. Despite the deep blue of my gown, my skin is almost waxy.
No. Not now. I can’t have a panic attack when Liam’s about to come up the steps at any moment.
I try a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart.
Inhale. Exhale.
Inhale. Ex—
Ding. Dong.
Shit. The doorbell. Hand shaking, I reach for the handle and step back. Then my breath leaves my body for an entirely separate reason.
I’ve seen Liam in jeans and T-shirts. I’ve watched as he’s sauntered out the door in a thousand-dollar suit. Nothing could have prepared me for him in a custom-made tuxedo holding a small bouquet of flowers I recognize from long days slaving in the Amaryllis Florist workshop as a kid. In fact, the bouquet is wrapped in the distinctive paper Uncle Phil uses for his custom orders. Liam steps forward and holds it out to me. “Laura, I’d say you look magnificent, but that doesn’t even come close.”
My lips tremble when I gently touch a finger to the stem of each bloom. “You brought me roses, lavender, and jasmine wrapped in eucalyptus.”
A flag of color sweeps his cheeks. “I didn’t want to presume anything, but I thought it might help ease any last-minute tension you might feel about attending an event some of your colleagues will be at.”
Clutching the bouquet in one arm, I wrap my hand around his upper arm and press my lips to the underside of his jaw. Letting them linger for just a moment, I murmur, “I’m not certain how you knew what I’d be feeling.”
His fingers dance delicately over my cheek. “Probably because I’m feeling the same way, and I don’t have half the reason for it you do?”
Remaining close enough so my body absorbs the warmth of his, I ask, “Why could you possibly be nervous?”
The pupils of his eyes expand, eclipsing the green for just a moment as they roam me from the tip of my upswept hairdo to the hem of my dress. His fingers curl in slightly, setting off a whole different set of butterflies in my stomach. No, his response isn’t verbal, but it settles something inside me I didn’t realize was wound up so tightly.
Liam gestures at the flowers. “If you want to put them in some water, we have time.”
I clutch them tightly, not willing to leave them behind. “I actually want to take them in the limo.”
A slow smile spreads across his face. “Then do you need to get anything? We really should get going.”
“Let me grab my clutch.” Turning my back to him, I hear his hissed breath when he gets a load of the dramatic plunge to my dress.
Happy my back is to him to hide my smile, I’m fervently grateful to Emily for convincing me to go with such a striking design for this year’s gown that was in the making long before I met Liam Payne.
After I pick up my gold clutch, I whirl around. His green gaze is no less fiery when I saunter toward him. “I’m ready.”
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