Page 132 of Love to Loathe Him

He shrugs. “I couldn’t have you complaining Iwas lazy.”

“Trust me, lazy is thelastthing I’m thinking about you right now.” I shake my head, a laugh bubbling up in my throat. “Seriously, I’m so incredibly proud of you.”

“It’s my job, Gemma,” he says gruffly.

“No, it’s not,” I whisper, feeling suddenly vulnerable. “You are an amazing man, Liam. Thank you for taking away my tears, on Winnie, on the charity. You have no idea how much it means to me.”

He stares down at me, clearly caught off guard. “It was nothing,” he says, then plants a kiss on my forehead so awkwardly it’s like he’s never done it before.

“Good night, Liam.” I force myself to walk toward the reception door, hyper-aware of his gaze burning into my back the whole way.

I can’t help myself. I glance back when I reach the door, and there he is, standing by the elevator bay, staring at me. Like he’s trying to understand the strange thing that’s growing between us. Join the club, mate. I’ve been trying to figure us out for weeks.

I’m falling in love with you,I say in my head before I walk back outside.

This is so bad for me. So, so bad.

Maybe I’ve always been a little in love with Liam. A tiny spark buried deep enough I could pretend it didn’t exist. Under all the anger and frustration at his arrogance, there was . . . well, more anger and frustration. But also feelings. I just never had the guts to admit it. But it’s always been there, simmering beneath the surface.

And I’m really, really scared.

CHAPTER 39

Gemma

I spend two gloriousweeks living a double life, playing the part of fisherman Liam’s carefree companion on the weekends and then transforming into the dutiful employee of banker Liam during the week.

I’m living in two worlds, each one tucked away in its own little box. Just like he wants me to.

We don’t talk about what we are. We’re keeping things casual, still pretending that our private moments together are separate from our professional lives. But the more time I spend with him, the more I feel myself slipping, tumbling headfirst into a sea of dangerous, delicious hope.

When I’m with him at the coast, he’s . . . different. Calmer. Softer. And now, there’s this shift in me too. It took me a while to pinpoint it, but I’m finally starting to understand—I feel safe with him. Like he’s got my back, and for once, I can let my guard down and just relax.

I know it’s risky. Lizzie shoots me pointed looks every time I come home with a dreamy expression on my face. But I can’t help it. I’m trying so hard not to let myself get carried away, but it’s like trying to stop the tide from coming in. I’m even starting to thinklike a fisherman’s wife, with all my cheesy sea puns and nautical metaphors.

Now I’m in business mode meeting Alastair, like I agreed to, to discuss the “potential job role” he has.

Alastair is already at the Silk Table—the same place Liam and I came to not so long ago—when I arrive, but the booths are so secluded I can’t see him. These CEO types and their love for exclusivity and privacy. Not like fisherman Liam. He’s more of a prawn taco from a beachside cart kind of guy.

The hostess guides me to Alastair’s booth, and he rises to greet me.

I plaster on my most dazzling smile. I’m here for one reason only, and it’s not the fancy food or the expensive wine or the company.

No, I’m here as an information leech, ready to extract as much intel from this slick-talker as I can. Ideally try to figure out who the mole is, since our IT department is taking their sweet time.

“Gemma, you look radiant,” Alastair says, his eyes raking over me as he takes my hand in his. His smile is warm but there’s a calculating glint in his eye that has my Spidey senses tingling.

“Alastair, it’s so wonderful to see you again,” I gush.

We take our seats as two waiters fuss around us, pouring water and offering menus.

“Have you been here before?” he asks.

“I have, actually,” I say, before realizing my mistake. Shit. I can’t exactly tell him that Liam brought me here on a date. “With Liam and some of the team,” I babble, trying to cover my tracks. “For a work dinner.”

Alastair gives a small smirk, like he sees right through my bullshit. “Ah, yes. This restaurant would be very convenient for Liam.”

I don’t know what he’s talking about. Liam doesn’t live that near here. The office isn’t nearby either. But I don’t want to ask too many questions given Liam took me here on a date.