Hit & Run Bride (Hit & Run Bride Contemporary Romance Series) (12 page)

Becca blew a stray tendril of hair out of her face. “I wish you’d told me. It would have saved me all this turmoil.”

“If I’d told you, you would have fought it. You needed your pro-con list. I assume you made one?”

Becca nodded. She wasn’t sure if she loved or hated that Van knew her so well. “Holden came up lacking. You know, I don’t even think he loves me.”

Van rolled her eyes. “Honey, he likes you a lot, but he only loves himself.” She adjusted her shoulders. “Can we stop talking about your loser ex-fiancé and talk about hottie Liam?”

Becca flushed. “Uh...what makes you think I want to talk about Liam?”

Van raised a delicately arched eyebrow.

“Okay fine. He kissed me again last night.” Merely thinking about his hands on her made her body flush with heat.

Van raised her other eyebrow. “Did you just say
again
?”

Oh shit. She might have neglected to mention their first kiss. “Uh, yeah.”

“You’ve been withholding! I need deets. First and foremost, how do you feel when you’re with him?”

Becca said the first thing that came to mind. “Alive.”

Van grinned. “Good answer. Remember when I asked you that with Holden? You said, and I quote, ‘Fine, good. I’m still feeling him out.’”

Becca groaned. She
had
said that. She probably should have stopped dating him then. “The first kiss happened at my second lesson. It was an accident really. I’d just put on flippers, and he showed me how to kick across the pool with a kickboard. It was exhilarating. I haven’t been that happy in a really long time. I totally meant to kiss him on the cheek, but then he turned his head and…” She let her voice trail off.

Van studied her. “Did you kiss him back?”

There was no point in lying. “Yes,” she squeaked.

Van frowned. “And that still wasn’t enough to make you realize that you shouldn’t marry Holden? That was over a week ago.”

Becca paced along the grass. “I know! That makes me a horrible person, right?”

Van sighed and dropped into the grass. “You know I don’t judge. Well, unless you’re a Tribot. Besides, I know how hard you try to make things work out for the best, and I know you wanted to believe Holden was Mr. Everything.”

“I honestly thought it was a fluke. I didn’t think it would happen again. Then last night it did, and I was so confused and—”

“How do you feel when he touches you?” Van asked.

“Like I’m on fire.” It was true. All it took was an errant thought about him, and her body was on slow simmer.

Van grinned. “I like him already. When are you seeing him again?”

Becca couldn’t help the grin that spread over her face. “He asked me out last night for Friday.”

Van’s eyes bugged. “I can’t believe we spent all that time discussing Holden when we could have been talking outfit choices.”

Becca laughed. “So you think I’m doing the right thing?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think. It’s all about what
you
think. Do you want to be with this new guy? Does he make you happy?”

Becca nodded. “Yes, he does.”

“Good enough for me. We also need to do the appropriate social media crawl on him.”

“I don’t even know if he uses Facebook.”

Van shook her head. “If only there was a device that allowed us to stalk our love interests from afar.” She smacked her forehead. “Oh wait, I seem to have one in my pocket.”

“What would I do without you?”

“Hopefully not marry Holden.”

“Definitely not.”

“Good girl. Now let’s look up Mr. Man. What’s his last name?”

“Caldwell.”

Van quickly entered his name into the search engine. After a few seconds, she whistled low. “Is he the same Liam Caldwell that almost made it to the Olympics?”

Becca frowned. He’d made it seem like that was merely a dream. Not like he was actually close to having it realized. “I think so.”

“Then may I extend my congratulations. ’Cause that man is fine. And apparently filthy rich.”

What? That didn’t sound like the Liam she knew. “Let me see that.”

Van handed her the phone.

The face was, in fact, her Liam. He looked so much younger in the photos, but that body. Yeah, it was him all right. She read snippets of information to Van. His father was the premier Olympic swim trainer. He’d trained many of the greats. Liam had grown up wealthy and privileged. His mother had also come from old money, so he stood to inherit one day from her.
Wow
. She really didn’t know him at all.

Van smirked. “You need to give me some of your dating mojo because you hit the jackpot.” Van nudged her shoulder. “Why don’t you look happy?”

“I guess I am. But I’m a little worried that I don’t really know him. All I know is he teaches me to swim and runs a training program at an inner city pool.”

Her friend sat up and dusted the grass off of her jeans. “Then maybe it’s time we found out more.”

Chapter Ten

Liam handed Alex a beer. The Lakers game was on, and Alex sent up a whoop when Kobe Bryant scored. “That’s twenty bucks you owe me, Caldwell.”

“Game isn’t over yet.” Liam plopped onto the couch, taking a swig of his beer. He checked his phone for texts and was disappointed there were none from Addison. He respected that Becca wanted to land Addie on her own, but what could it hurt to give Addison a heads-up? He’d simply reached out as an old friend and mentioned he knew Dive was introducing a brand new watersports clothing line and could use someone like Addie to endorse it. Addie would love Becca, he was sure of it. He would just give the two of them a little push in the right direction.

Alex brought Liam’s attention back to the game. “Twenty seconds left. You’re never going to score in that amount of time. Speaking of scoring, I tossed a box of condoms in your bathroom drawer.”

Liam lifted a brow. “Do I want to know why you’re keeping condoms at my place?”

“Not for me. For you. It’s been, what? Six months since you got laid? Time for a fresh box. The old one was long expired.”

“So now you’re the condom police?”

“You should never waste a good box of condoms, man. Get that girl over here you’ve been teaching to swim and give her”—Alex waggled his eyebrows—“a bonus lesson.”

Kobe got the ball again and it looked like all was lost. Five seconds before the clock went off, Miami Heat stole it, and
bam!
, a Hail Mary shot from half court.

Just as the ball swished through the basket and the fans went wild, a sharp rap came from Liam’s front door. He jumped from the couch, pumping his fist in the air and yelling over Alex’s cries of distress. Doing a small victory dance on his way to answer the door, he smiled at the idea of giving Becca a
bonus
lesson as Alex called it.

The victory dance died in mid-step when he saw who was on the other side.

“Dad.” His heart lurched in his chest. “Is Mom okay?”

“Your mother’s fine.” Jonathon Caldwell pushed inside. “We need to talk.”

Conversations never went well when they included those words. “About what?”

“Hey, Mr. Caldwell,” Alex called from the couch. He threw a twenty dollar bill on the coffee table and set down his beer. “I’ll catch you tomorrow, Liam.”

Alex gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder as he left.
Traitor
. Tucking tail and running out. Liam didn’t blame him. His father was an asshole to everyone.

Liam didn’t offer his dad a beer. Didn’t even offer him a seat. “So talk.”

His father crossed his arms over his chest and puffed himself up. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out about you recruiting for Manny Alvarez?”

Liam had damn well known his dad would find out about Henry. “Manny is the best coach for Henry.”

“Says who?”

“Me.”

“I don’t give a goddamn what you think, but recruiting for my competition? That’s low.”

“It is, and I admit I took great satisfaction in it.”

His father’s cheeks reddened.

“Henry needs a coach who understands him and his situation. He wouldn’t have fit in with your clients or responded well to your training regime.”

“I demand the best from my swimmers, and even though Manny isn’t half the coach I am, he’s still demanding. If the kid couldn’t cut it with me, he won’t cut it with Manny.”

“Guess we’ll find out. Henry starts next week. Manny thinks he can have him ready for his first competition by August.” Liam opened the door. “If there isn’t anything else…”

His father narrowed his eyes. “Don’t ever go behind my back like that again.”

“Or what, Dad? You’ll disown me? Been there, done that.”

“I never disowned you, and you know it.”

“That’s exactly how it felt after I injured my shoulder.”

“I paid for the best damn therapy around.”

True. “My dream of swimming in the Olympics had gone down the tubes. I needed more than physical therapy.”

“Yeah, you needed a kick in the ass to stop wallowing in your own pity. But here you are, still wallowing.”

“I’m not wallowing, just stating the facts. I’ve discovered that I didn’t need the Olympics to validate I’m damn good swimmer. Or a good person. Teaching others to swim is better than any gold medal. Is that how it feels to you? When you’re coaching, do you feel that’s your real purpose in life, or is it the winning you crave? Seeing how many winners you can put up on your success board?”

“A good loser is still a loser, Liam.”

Loser
. The word stuck in his chest. How many times had his dad told him he was a loser? How many times had he compared Liam to his older brother, Oliver, who was a champion? All Liam had wanted was for his father to visit him in the hospital during his recovery, take him to one therapy session.

“How many gold medals do you have?” Liam asked. When his father didn’t answer, he nodded. “That’s right. None. Me neither. Doesn’t mean I have to live my dream vicariously through others.”

“That’s why you recruited this Henry kid for Manny. It’s all for Henry’s benefit, not yours?”

“Henry has the drive, talent, and ability. What he doesn’t have is money or the means to figure out how to get along in L.A. All he needs is a chance. That’s what I’m giving him. If he makes it to even one swim meet and competes, he’s won in my book.”

“What you’ve given him is false hope. You’ve set him up to fail.”

“How do you know? You’ve never even met him, much less seen him swim.”

“I don’t need to see him swim. This isn’t about Henry, this is about you getting back at me for some supposed wrong I committed after you injured yourself. Or it’s about me not being there for you or your mom or some other drama you’ve created. Grow up, Liam, and get over yourself. I was good to you, and I’m taking care of your mother, whether you believe it or not.”

His dad started for the door, stopped, and put his face close to Liam’s. “I’ll say it again, don’t ever go behind my back with Manny or anyone else. Got it?”

Liam balled his hand into a fist and didn’t respond. Once his dad left, he eased the door shut, refusing to slam it and let his father know that he’d gotten under his skin.

Throwing the rest of his beer in the trash, he grabbed his swim bag and headed for the door. He needed to clear his head, and the only way to do that was in the water.

Chapter Eleven

Becca’s phone chimed and she glanced down at it. A text from Van,
Good Luck!

As if luck was going to cut it right now. Becca knew what she needed to do, but the actual physical act of doing it was going to suck. With another deep breath, she knocked on Holden’s door. It took him so long to answer, she almost turned around and left.

He was shirtless when he yanked open the door, and a light sheen of sweat coated his chest. “Becca? What are you doing here? I thought you were working late tonight.”

She winced. That was the lie she’d told to keep him from coming straight to her place after work. But of course, like an idiot, she’d forgotten that he played soccer with her office neighbor, so she’d hidden out at her desk until he’d left. Just in case the guy might tell Holden.

He stepped aside to let her in, and the familiarity of the condo wrapped around her like a warm, fuzzy sweater. One of those wool numbers that made her itch. “Yeah, I finished up a little earlier than I thought and wanted to see you.”

He grabbed a towel, first wiping his face, then his upper arms as she followed him into the living room. “Well, I was in the middle of Vinyasa Yoga. I skipped this weekend’s session to go to the Lakers game, so it was the perfect time to catch up.”

Becca tried hard not to scrunch her face. She’d never been comfortable having a boyfriend who was infinitely stretchier than she was.

“Right. Yoga.”
Go on, Becca, pull the Band-Aid off. It’s better that way
. “Uhm, sorry to interrupt, this won’t take long. I need to talk to you about something.”

Holden frowned. “Can this wait until I’m done? I’d just gotten to the hard stuff. Maybe there’s a fashion TV show or something you can turn on in the bedroom.”