Authors: Mimi Barbour
"Liam," said Bea, pointing at the giantess beside her. “This is Sadie's sister Maggie, our brilliant financier who manages the family business."
Sadie saw him look somewhat bemused by the three strikingly attractive, full-bodied women who surrounded his side of the tub. She knew what a force her family was and how overwhelmed they made one feel by their dramatic presence. Heck, when the Bertolli females actively worked at being overpowering, awesome didn't even come close to describing their compelling attraction.
Liam, looking a bit stunned, whispered to her in a voice everyone heard. "I think I need to get in touch with my feminine side."
The boisterous laughter fueled by his remark made Sadie flinch. Too loud, too rough, too happy…just too much. Secretly, her family had mortified Sadie for as long as she could remember, and hiding her feelings from them had become a daily Oscar-winning performance.
Her friend Greta, after one wine-drinking, soul-sharing night of confessions, came to a conclusion that made the most sense. As much as Sadie loved them, they embarrassed her. To compensate, she gave in to them every time—except for once. She’d moved out and saved her soul.
Maggie's smile faded first, and then she leveled him with the old gimlet-eye Maggie-stare that had most people, men even more so, slinking for cover.
Sadie watched as Liam not only returned the look but had the audacity to wink. Oh-oh! Sadie thought. My friend—you're a goner.
Except that Maggie surprised her by winking back and saying. "Wanna join us for a barbecue, Gorgeous? I can promise such good food, you'll think you'd died and gone to Iron Chef Heaven."
Sadie secretly appreciated that Liam first glanced her way, eyebrow raised, silently asking for permission before accepting. Pretty classy for such a speed demon.
Not wanting to seem too eager for his company, because she wasn't—really—she shrugged her best “who cares,” turned away, then listened while holding her breath.
"Might not be a good idea, honey. Sadie is pretty annoyed with me, and with good cause. I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome.” With the water sluicing his muscular frame as he rose, he sloshed over to her and knelt closer. "I'm a hungry guy and the smells coming from the house have been driving me nuts, but say the word and I'll leave."
Dora and Maggie's audible unison sighs let her know where their preferences lay. And the fact that Bea hadn't yet overridden her even having a choice was perplexing. Given authority in a group who usually never acknowledged that she had a vote, made her feel stunned. This power could be addictive.
She looked from one to the other and old habits kicked in. "Sure. Stay if you want to." Then she topped off her capitulation with a big fat lie. "Makes no difference to me."
Bea overrode Sadie. “You need to take Liam up on his offer and stop being so bullheaded. Do you have someone else you can hire to walk the dogs at such short notice?”
Dora cut in. “Sadie, you know those folks expect to get their money’s worth when they pay top dollar for a service. You’ve taken on the responsibility of looking after their animals, and they’ll assume that either you’ll do the job or you’ll have help. I work with them every day, and I know how they think.”
Liam looked around the food-laden table. The wonderful smell of barbecued ribs was only exceeded by the taste. Corn on the cob, baked potatoes, sweet-and-sour meatballs, salads, and homemade buns had been piled on his plate with never a thought of asking him his preference—which, by the way, wasn’t a problem. Best meal he’d had in ages.
Listening to the women conversing, he relaxed and decided he didn’t need to be his own advocate when he had Sadie’s family. Whether or not he should have offered, he didn’t really know, especially since he’d clearly heard the shouted
“Hang on!”
in his head. All he did know was that her dilemma was his fault and, truth to tell, the longer he could put off dealing with his own shit the happier he’d be.
Once he zoomed back into the heated argument surrounding him, he could see that Sadie had lost the battle. Poor little doll looked whipped, and his conscience kicked in big time.
“If Sadie would rather work with someone else, that’s not a problem.” He smiled at her to let her see his sincerity. And he liked that she smiled back, a small tug at her pretty lips with their curled-up edges, but nevertheless a smile.
Bea spoke before the others could. “She has no one else. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but our family own a business called ‘Angels’ and we do home care for the infirm, the elderly, and the rich who can afford to have someone come to their homes and look after them. We employ a number of women who like to look after folks—retired nurses, caregivers, and so on. But early in the program we realized that many of these people had animals they cared about, especially dogs that needed to be exercised every day.
“Sadie thought up a program where she was in charge of this part of the business. And it’s worked out very well. We’re all happy with her role both as the dogwalker and the fitness trainer. She also does yoga with many of the clients. But this keeps her very busy, and we’ve been telling her for some time to slow down. Except as you might have noticed, she’s as stubborn as her jackass mule-headed father, God bless his soul and keep him smiling.”
Mama Bertolli tickled his funny bone. He smiled, and then a mushy feeling exploded when she returned it so sweetly. The thought he’d had returned, and he said, “Couldn’t the dogs miss a couple of days? It
is
an emergency. It’s not like she’s at fault for the accident.”
“It’s a business, Liam. They would expect us to be prepared. I’ve been after Sadie for some time to take on a partner to train with the animals. We’re talking spoilt canines that many of these people treat like precious babies. They have idiosyncrasies that need to be understood.”
“The dogs or the owners?” Liam grinned at the thought.
Bea’s face stayed serious even if her eyes twinkled. “Both. And Sadie has their number.”
“The dogs or the owners?” He couldn’t help himself.
“Both.” This time she did laugh.
Dora piped in as if she’d stayed quiet long enough. “Sadie, take Liam up on his offer. He’s a big guy and those mutts won’t scare him. You know you need someone who can take control.”
Liam raised his eyebrow at Sadie, wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into. This time her grin evoked pure mischief.
Liam drove through his familiar childhood neighborhood where he’d ridden his first bike—his father running behind him holding on to the seat. He’d forgotten that memory until his phantom friend all of a sudden appeared as his passenger and mentioned it.
“How did you know?”
Liam was shocked. He pulled over to the curb a few houses before his own and parked the convertible.
Johnny, Liam’s nickname for the ghost dude, gave him the “what-are-you-stupid?” look, and he felt his bile rising. Man, he wished a guy could punch out an angel.
Ignoring his celestial stalker, he turned away to watch as his old man, hunched over a little more with age, raked the leaves, and another vision blasted from his memory banks. Him and his dad making a big pile, and then him running and leaping, leaves flying in every direction, his father doubled over with laughter.
Unfortunately, his thoughts didn’t stop there. He remembered his mother at the window flaying them both, especially her husband—cutting him down, the words vitriolic and hurtful—the old man taking it, saying nothing. Sorrowfully reaching to help him out of the mess, his dad would get back to work, head lowered and peace restored.
Anger seized and tightened his gut to where he had difficulty breathing. He remembered that it had always been that way; his mom berating her husband, and the man allowing her to cut him up in little pieces. Liam had hated it, and as he’d gotten older, he’d begun to hate his father for allowing his wife such wicked control. Sick inside from remembering, he started the car and peeled away, tires squealing.
Once past the old place, he checked the rearview mirror and watched his father stop what he was doing and examine the passing vehicle. In seconds, Liam saw his shoulders stoop worse than ever, a riveting visual of misery and despondency.
“You couldn’t cut him some slack, hey? Had to make sure he saw you, dig the knife in a little deeper?”
The angel sounded sad.
“What’s it to you?”
Liam had to grate his teeth to stop the sob that almost escaped. He crunched his lips together so they wouldn’t wobble; he was that close to losing it. What the hell was wrong with him? Ever since that last patrol, he’d felt vulnerable and weak. As a man who’d never let himself be anything but strong and cocky, he didn’t have a clue how to handle this bullshit.
After the last horrific battle, he’d gone through intense debriefing, but it hadn’t worked for him, not this time. Maybe if he’d stayed longer, he’d have dealt with the psychological stress, but his time had run out. He’d been sent home with a Distinguished Service Cross in one hand and his broken spirit in the other.
Now he had two choices for his future. Take on a new career. Or sign up again. With his unique capabilities as an elite member of Special Forces, he had his choice of missions both here and overseas.
“Aye there, you don’t have to make up your mind just yet, you know. You have time.”
The British accent soothed, stroking his anxiety to where it magically disappeared. It felt great.
“Thanks, dude. I don’t know what you did, but you can do it anytime.”
“You’re welcome. Where are we off to now?”
Johnny settled in, seatbelt tightly in place.
“Well, I don’t know where you’re going. Off to a cloud to catch some shuteye, maybe? But me, I’m going to check on a little boy.”
Liam headed in the direction where the Ruiz family lived. He turned on the radio and let the music soothe. As he pulled up to a corner, he looked in a grocery store’s large window and, with the sun at the perfect angle, saw his car and himself, but the passenger seat was unsurprisingly empty. Gave him goose bumps, since the pirate sprawled in full sight.
Once he arrived, he slowed down perceptibly, having learnt his lesson. The street was clear, and there was a place to park in front of the house with the rundown façade. He stooped to get out of the car, since he’d put up the convertible top, and hesitated, then turned in the direction of the fellow who rested in the passenger seat. Liam’s one arm held open the door while the other leaned against the frame.
“You coming?”
“For the time being, I’m comfy here. Don’t hurry.”
“You’re going to trust me alone?”
“You’ll do splendidly, I have no doubt.”
Liam slammed the door and walked away muttering. “Sure! I can’t get rid of him when he isn’t wanted, and now when I could use some backup, he’s too comfy to move. Bast…!” He cut himself off before finishing the word. “Guess I can’t even call him names.”
As he approached the stairs, he heard crying, and the sound of it made him take the steps two at a time. He knocked and then noticed the door hadn’t been closed all the way. He stepped into the room.
Pedro, the child, was sobbing heartbrokenly as he knelt beside his mother, who lay on the floor in a pool of water. Liam ran towards them to check the woman and soothe the boy. “What happened, Pedro?” His rough voice seemed to shock the boy out of his hysterics, and with a glad cry he flung himself at Liam. “Mi mamá is dying. Help her, señor, please.”
A soft pleading came from the pregnant woman who had arched her body, contorting it this way and that. “Sir, the baby is coming. You must call my midwife.”
The pain seemed to intensify, as if it intended to break up her insides. She writhed in agony, biting her lips bloody to stop the screams. Once the contraction had passed, she whispered to Liam, “Take him away from this. He mustn’t see.”
“What is going on here?” A very angry dude dressed in working-man’s clothes and big boots stood in the doorway, rooted to the spot. “Isobella!” Once he’d taken in the details, he dropped his lunchbox and rushed to kneel next to Liam. “Papá,” Pedro reached for his father, leaving Liam’s arms without a moment’s hesitation. “Help mamá. She is sick.”
“I’m calling an ambulance.” Liam whipped out his cell phone and would have dialed 911 if the other fellow hadn’t ripped it from his hands and flung it across the room.