Page 18 of Waiting For A Girl Like You (Haven House #4)

They absolutely should not have been doing this with cameras on in the middle of the day. Anyone could walk into the media room and see this mini-makeout session playing on one of the screens.

But the second his lips met her neck, her concern was gone, and she arched up on her toes for more.

“God, I need to be inside you,” he whispered, his grip coiling tight like he was afraid she’d vanish.

“But only for forty minutes?”

She felt him grin, and he pulled back to look at her. “Tell me something.” He took her left hand from behind his neck and pressed it to his chest, right over the wild thrum of his heart. “Do you like that engagement ring being back where it belongs?”

Tears rushed forth. Silly and stupid and not at all needed right now. She bit down on her trembling bottom lip and nodded.

Liam chuckled softly, mimicking her awkward nod. “That a yes?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.” She kissed him. Over and over again, she kissed him. “I am so sorry. Yes. I’m not taking it off.”

She could never stop apologizing. And he never stopped listening, letting her release the guilt every time they were alone.

Each day, they carved out time for them. A quiet hour where they shared a meal or a cup of coffee and never discussed anything except their hope for the future. A future that involved a life they still believed in. A home. A family. Happiness.

Yet somehow, by the end of every quiet moment, the apology crept in. Like a reflex, she couldn’t control. A scar that would never fully heal. Her " I love you " would inevitably always come with an " I'm sorry " attached.

“I want to keep my ring on forever.” She finally stopped kissing him, not missing the unshed tears in his eyes. “I want to be yours forever.”

He didn’t speak right away and stared down at her while he worked out what he wanted to say.

It made her nervous. “What?”

“I had a long talk with Samuel the other day.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m sure that was torture. ”

“Yeah. He’s been more of an ass than usual with the stress.” His smile returned. “But we were discussing how when Evie agreed to marry him, he didn’t give her time to second guess it. It made me realize I’ve been screwing us up since the beginning. I should have insisted we get married sooner.”

Again, something else that was her fault, yet he was taking the blame for it. She hadn’t wanted a big wedding, just something special, but every time she got close to deciding exactly what that meant, life got in the way. They kept pushing it off, over and over, until the months rolled into years.

“I’m giving you a week.”

Jamison’s lips parted, quite positive that she hadn’t heard him correctly. “I beg your pardon ?”

“One week.” Looking rather pleased with the idea, he gently pressed two fingers under her chin to close her gaping mouth. “One week from today, I want you to meet me under the Marriage Oak and become my wife.”

Goosebumps rippled across her skin, and Jamison honestly thought she might pass out. “But… but the beach. The… everything.”

“I’ll give you a beach wedding later.”

“Later?”

“A wedding isn’t a marriage. We can do the big thing another day.”

“But my dress.” She sagged a little. “I had it made just for you.”

“Then wear it just for me.” He gazed out the window at the Marriage Oak. The massive tree had watched over their story and the stories of countless others through the years. “Right there, under that tree. Wear the dress you chose to become my wife in and marry me. Can you do that?”

This man was so perfect it hurt her brain sometimes.

“I can do anything you want me to do.” Hell, she’d marry him right now if they could pull it off. “But are you okay with me adding a few touches? I know a wedding isn’t a marriage, but can I include some of my plans?”

“I don’t care if you ride down the lawn on an emu, Jamison. You can do whatever you want as long as it doesn’t give me a heart attack.” He turned back to her with a chuckle. “Just let me have you. Let me have you as my wife. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. ”

His wife.

He still wanted her to be his wife.

Buried deep within her soul, that invisible string of destiny hummed with a melody she would know in any lifetime.

It linked her to Liam and sang with such perfect happiness that it had her ears ringing.

She was going to be his wife. Jamison Fairweather was about to disappear, and while that made her a little sad, it also brought forth an eerie sense of peace.

It felt right.

Perfect.

Exactly as it was meant to be.

“You really wouldn’t care if I showed up on an emu?”

“Nah.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “Just aim the thing at me and let it loose. I’ll take it from there.”

Dressed and ready, they stepped out onto the landing. Liam secured her bedroom door behind them, double-checking the locks. His new protocol required every second-floor room—occupied or not—to be locked down tight.

“You still haven’t explained the makeup.” She had placed everything he said she would need in the black backpack, along with his gun and their spare clothes. “Or the seduction part.”

“Emmett Watson is a lonely man,” Liam said, taking her hand as they descended the stairs. “And there’s a certain type of woman he always pays attention to when he’s on dating apps. They usually wear heavy makeup and favor skimpy clothes.”

“Liam, did you stalk this man’s dating profiles?”

“I had Rowan do it. He and Annabeth had a good laugh going through his matches.”

Jamison halted halfway down the stairs, forcing Liam to do the same. “I have a feeling this isn’t a good cop-bad cop situation, but more like you’re using me for bait again.”

“No, not at all.” Eye to eye with her, thanks to being two steps lower, Liam flipped his baseball cap around to sneak a kiss. “Like I said, he’s local, and since you’re a Fairweather, you get to be the bad cop. ”

“Excuse me, the locals love us.”

“They do. But you have… a certain reputation.”

She looked down her nose at him, unimpressed. “Why is it that any woman with a spine and a voice automatically ends up with a reputation ?”

Smart man that he was, Liam shrugged. “Because society is ridiculous.”

“Good answer.”

“I figured you’ll either intimidate him or charm him.”

“It’s always one or the other with men,” she muttered. “Never a middle ground.”

They headed downstairs and into the parlor, finding Samuel sitting stretched out on the couch with Evie’s head in his lap, fast asleep. Theo sat on her father's shoulders, braiding his hair, while Harper knelt on the floor, painting his toenails a vivid, unapologetic shade of pink.

“Are you almost done with Holden?” Samuel asked, not even glancing up from his phone. “We’re ready to go home.”

Without missing a beat, Liam extracted his phone to snap a photo of the entire situation. Samuel embraced every opportunity to make things normal for his girls, and allowing them to give him a makeover after the stressful morning they’d had was par for the course.

“He just sent a message saying he was almost here with the boat.” Liam took two more pictures. “Hey, Harper, that’s a nice color for your dad’s toes, but you should go with blue for his fingernails.”

Harper scrunched her nose in disapproval. “Blue is a summer color, Unc.”

“Duh, everyone knows that.” Samuel finally looked up to smirk at Liam. “How about you paint Unc’s toes next, Harper? His troll-looking feet could use some color.”

Liam gasped as if offended. “I have beautiful feet.”

Hiding her laughter, Jamison looked around for Josie, who never strayed far from her granddaughters. “Did Josie already go back to your house?”

“No, she’s in the kitchen with Bernie,” Evie said, coming awake with a stretch. “They’re having some tea. Josie said it calms her nerves.”

Samuel set his phone aside and helped Evie sit up. “How are you feeling? ”

“Surprisingly good, but hungry.” After making it into a sitting position, Evie stroked her pregnant belly. “Girls, can you go check on Papa and grab me a snack?”

Theo rolled off Samuel’s shoulders and bolted immediately from the room. Harper took her time finishing. “Daddy, don’t move until I get back,” she warned, packing up her supplies and following her sister.

The moment the girls were gone, the serene smile on Evie’s lips faded, and the stress of the day showed.

“Explain to me where this dock is. I know you two want some private time while you’re out.

I get that. I’m not stupid. But I don’t want Jamison out of the house for too long and want to know that you’ll be back before dark. Got it?”

“The dock is on a small plot of land just outside Port Michaelson. It sits way back off in a swampy inlet and is pretty well hidden,” Liam told her.

“There are no property records indicating a building is onsite, but there’s definitely a structure along with the dock.

I had Izzy look into it earlier this week, and she said it was a single room dwelling about the size of a large shed.

Rowan’s been watching via satellite over the past few days.

Not much has been happening, but two cars came and went yesterday. ”

As he spoke, Liam subtly pulled Jamison to his side, lifting her hand just enough for the diamond ring to catch the light.

“And yes,” she added, grinning at her sister, “my eternal love will have me back here under lock and key before sunset.”

Samuel and Evie’s eyes narrowed on them simultaneously. “Why did you say it like that?” Evie asked.

“Like what?” Jamison replied innocently.

“Like a fucking weirdo,” Samuel said and then focused on Liam. “My eternal love? I thought we were living in a Lifetime Movie, not a Hallmark special.”

Samuel was many things, but never—in a million years—would he ever be subtle.