Page 30 of All the Gossip from Paris (Royal Fashion #2)
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
He’d meant his words to sound casual so as not to put pressure on either of them. They’d clearly backfired. The look of disappointment on Sophie’s face was unmistakable. His ham-fisted mention of them ‘being casual’ had stung her. She’d flinched liked she’d been slapped.
I am such an asshole. I shouldn’t have said that. Not to Sophie.
Liam had become so use to no strings attached hook ups. The subtle nuances that real relationships required had been lost to him. And yet there hadn’t been anyone since that night with Sophie.
“I. I didn’t mean it that way … oh shit,” he muttered.
Sophie was in the cool room pulling boxes and containers down from a high shelf when Liam joined her a few minutes later. The walk in refrigerator was already chilly, but he couldn’t help feeling that it wasn’t just the low set thermostat at work.
“Here let me help you,” he said.
She kept her focus on the shelf. “No, it’s ok. I can do it. Thanks.”
Oh yes it was cold in here. Icy.
“Sophie. I didn’t mean what I said to come out the way it did.”
He was handed one large plastic container, and then a second one on top.
“It’s ok, Liam. You said what you said. At least I know where I stand. I’m very good at managing my expectations.”
Stepping past him, Sophie made her way back into the kitchen. A pensive Liam followed. She pointed to a nearby work bench, and he set the containers down on it.
One careless remark and he’d blown up their whole afternoon. Hands stuffed into his jeans pockets, Liam considered his next move.
Did he call off their midafternoon snack fest? Go back upstairs and hide out in his room? Or had he made such a mess of things that taking the train back into Paris was the only sensible option?
“If you’re having second thoughts about me staying here, I’ll understand,” he offered.
She lifted the lid of one of the containers.
It was a divided storage box, with different types of cold meats in each section.
Liam remembered the food at the wedding.
This stuff wasn’t the sort of deli selection they offered for sale in his local supermarket.
His belly gave a rumble of expectation at the sight.
Sophie picked up a piece of finely sliced meat. Rolled it up. Then handed it to him.
Liam took it. “Thanks.” He popped the food into his mouth and stood chewing.
“Can I ask you something?” she said.
He nodded.
“Have you been in a proper relationship since your engagement ended?”
Liam kept slowly chewing. If he didn’t, he might choke on it as it went down. Taking his time gave him a moment to ponder his reply. To come up with something that wasn’t as stupid or insensitive as his last remark had been.
* * *
She wasn’t offering him therapy or a shoulder to cry on—Sophie just wanted to know how Liam viewed relationships. Had he been so badly burned by his broken engagement that he’d sworn off romance forever?
There’d been times during the numerous breakups and breaks with Patrice that she’d promised herself she wouldn’t get back with him. That she was done with love. But she’d broken every one of those promises until the last one. She’d been the one to finally call things off.
Waiting patiently while Liam took his time finishing that one mouthful of food, Sophie could only hope his hesitation was a good sign. Perhaps he was forming a carefully curated answer.
It could also mean he was going to give her bad news—that he wasn’t ready for any sort of relationship. But she’d had plenty of experience with being let down by men. None of that would be new.
“No. I haven’t been in any real sort of relationship since Brooke. We broke up over two years ago. Everything else since then has been a physical encounter based on mutual satisfaction followed by a quick goodbye. I suppose I should include New York in that list.”
He didn’t sound proud of himself. Just sad.
“I haven’t even considered the possibility of moving on from Patrice. I mean in a real way, not just a hook up,” she said. There had been a couple of those, but they hadn’t lasted past day break.
I sound as wretched as he does.
If Liam was still too bruised and burned to consider being with someone two years after his relationship had failed, then what hope did she have? She’d called time on her and Patrice’s messy entanglement less than a year ago.
“I don’t see Brooke all that often, but when I do it still stings. Not the loss of love mind you. Not long after we broke up, I realized that we had always been doomed to fail. The humiliation of knowing that she went behind my back is what I still struggle with.”
“Yeah, betrayal is a bitch,” replied Sophie.
He moved closer, and she sensed a shift in the mood between them. It was obvious Liam regretted what he’d said earlier, and he wanted them to move past it.
“I don’t know how you work with Patrice every day, and not go mad.”
Sophie gave a dry laugh. “Who says I haven’t gone mad?”
He took her hand in his, and raised it to his lips. The warm kiss Liam placed on her knuckles had Sophie drawing in a long breath.
“You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, Sophie. There is nothing mad about you. Don’t let the wounds of what he did to you define how you see yourself.”
She liked the way Liam said he —the utter disdain that dripped from that one word did more for her than a hundred pep talks ever could. Liam had seen past the smooth veneer that was Patrice. Seen the cruel male that lay beneath.
His arms were around her and he was holding her close without either of them having said a word. Sophie rested her head against Liam’s chest. She could get used to this with him—this closeness.
“How about we do what the newlyweds are doing and forget about cooking for today. We can take some supplies back to your room, along with a bottle of wine. What do you think?” he said.
“I think that’s a great idea. But we still have to come back here tomorrow morning. I need to make a B?che de Noel for Christmas Eve tomorrow night.”
“Hmm. So what exactly is that?”
“It’s a chocolate sponge cake made to look like a yule log. We have all the ingredients, but it will take a bit of time for us to make it,” replied Sophie.
She closed her eyes as Liam dropped a kiss on her forehead. “That sounds like fun. And being back in the kitchen might help me rediscover my love for good food. I kinda miss it.”
They stood for a long time, just holding one another, neither saying a word. Sophie wondered what Liam was thinking, but was too afraid to ask. Only a fool would go stirring things up again. This evening it would be just the two of them. Sharing food and wine.
Maybe I should take a leaf out of Liam’s book and try to move on from my past.
She could use this time with him to rethink her life. To reset expectations. And when January came and Liam eventually left Paris, she would take comfort in knowing that there was a life beyond the one she’d had with her ex.
That her hope of finding love wasn’t just an impossible dream.
With a sigh, Sophie pulled out of Liam’s embrace. “We had better get some of these goodies and make our escape. If I know my sister, she’ll send Ryan on a scavenger hunt as soon as they’ve finished the food they already have.”
“Ok, where do the kitchen staff keep the big serving platters?” asked Liam.
Smart man. If they took as much of the delicious loot as they could carry, they wouldn’t need to come back. Sophie pointed to the shelves at the rear of the kitchen. “Over there. The large ones they had for the wedding reception should be on one of the lower shelves.”
They set to work creating a feast on a plate. Cold meats. Smoked salmon. Pate. When Liam discovered a box of stuffed mushrooms in the back of the cool room, they both let out a cheer. Camille and Ryan wouldn’t be getting their hands on these little beauties.
Gastronomic masterpiece complete, Sophie picked up two glasses. She went to grab a bottle of champagne from the wine fridge, but was beaten to it by Liam. He had a bottle of champagne in either hand.
“I think we should plan on not coming back to the kitchen today. In fact, I think we should forget about leaving your room entirely,” said Liam.
He moved closer, and when their gazes met, she could have sworn she saw flames dancing in his eyes. Closing the distance between them, Liam bent and whispered seductively in Sophie’s ear. “We could play a game of ‘the floor is lava’. So we’d have to stay in bed just to be safe.”
An all too familiar pulse began to beat steadily between Sophie’s legs. Her nipples hardened. Liam wanted to spend the rest of the day in her bed. Fingers-crossed, that could mean only one thing. They were going to repeat the mistake of New York in all its naked and orgasmic glory.
Oh yes please.