Liam's Bride: BBW Werebear Romance (Clan Conroy Brides Book 1) (5 page)

She couldn’t have pulled away after the first brush of satiny skin. His mouth tasted of wine, breath an elusive aroma of male, forest and herbs. And despite the softness, she felt steel underneath, a determination to prove she was becoming as hopelessly entangled as he. Because if his Bear really was urging him towards her, Meredith knew he had no real choice in the matter. He could fight fate and be miserable, or make the best of it.

His tongue invaded her mouth, the touch of him sending a pulse of fire straight to her clit, tightening her belly and sending tingles down her spine. And then she couldn’t think, couldn’t analyze anymore. Could only feel, could only yearn for him to step into her body so she could rub herself against him. Her hands rose, clenching air, seeking flesh. In that moment he stepped back, eyes hot with satisfaction, skin drawn taunt over the slashing bones of his face.

"Think about it, but not for long," he repeated. "I'll be waiting for you."

CHAPTER

5

Sundays she slept in, went over garden plans for the following week and covered shifts at the diner. In the evenings she subbed for teachers taking a last minute break.

This morning she woke early to pounding on her front door. The apartment wasn't enclosed; anyone could walk up to her front door similar to a motel.

Meredith scrambled, halting a fall from bed just as her mind awoke. Who would knock on her door on a Sunday morning? Most of her college friends lived out of town. Meredith was the last hold over from their small town upbringing. Except Tamar- but then she had moved away, too, and only come back to raise her baby somewhere quiet.

She pulled sweats on underneath her oversized sleep shirt, tugging her hair into a quick sloppy-neat pony tail. Thank God the just woke up look was a recognized style. Peering through the peephole, her heart stopped.

"I know you're there, Mere," her father Harvey said in a scratchy voice. Paused and cleared his throat. "I heard the footsteps."

She leaned her forehead against the door, heart thumping. How the hell could she have forgotten? Her father. Knees feeling weak, Meredith’s mind raced. How could she open the door? How couldn't she?

"Let's just talk, sweetheart, and then I'll go away if you want."

Her father calling her 'sweetheart' jarred Meredith, twisting the muscles of her stomach. Her mind recalled the image of the man whose use of the same endearment sparked a completely different response in her. A warm response, where with her father she only felt dread.

Meredith looked through the peephole again, this time studying the man she hadn't seen in years. He looked thin, graying brown hair shaggy, a stubble on his cheeks and chin. Faded jeans and a plain t-shirt added to the hitchhiker look he sported with the army green satchel slung over his shoulders. His hunched, slumped posture shrunk his size. This wasn’t the big, stressed and mostly angry man she remembered.

With a small shock, she realized she’d been much shorter the last time she’d seen him. He must never have been a big man in fact- she’d just seen him through the eyes of a child.

"Can I at least use the bathroom and get a glass of water?" He shifted on his feet, shifting the pack from one shoulder to another, then setting it down. Though she didn't feel sorry for him- how could she- she still couldn’t quite turn him away.

Opening the door, she stepped back and made room for him to enter, resigned. "Hi, Dad."

"Hi, Meredith.” He stared at her, cleared his throat again, tried to smile. “Well. I did call, you know."

She turned away. "Don’t call me sweetheart. Bathroom is down the hall."

"Thanks."

He took the satchel with him, closing the door quietly. She sat on her couch, closing her eyes while she waited for a good twenty minutes. When was the last time they’d spoken? Months ago. Water ran, the usual sounds of morning grooming. When he emerged, freshly shaved and in a new t-shirt, he looked neater if not less haggard.

"I hitchhiked here," he said. "The rest stops in this state aren't great. They used to be nicer."

"That was twenty years ago." Were they really going to do the small talk thing?

"Yeah. Do you mind if I sit down?"

"What do you want, Dad?"

Sighing, he crouched down in front of her. "I know you’re mad at me, Mere-"

"Are you insane? Mad?" She shook her head. "I’m not mad. I just don’t really want you here."

“You’ve become a beautiful woman, Meredith. Prettier than your mother.”

Tears pricked her eyes, an echo of his sudden rapid blinking. She surged to her feet, hurrying to her bedroom. He didn’t follow- if he had she probably would have kicked him out of her place then and there. Meredith took her time dressing and cleaning up. She felt better after the ritual soothed frazzled nerves. When she emerged from the bathroom, Harvey was sitting cross legged where she'd left him. He glanced up at her.

"Katherine called me when you graduated," he said. His eyes lowered, following the slump of his shoulders. "A teacher, huh? I missed all of that."

"I hope you don’t want me to feel sorry for you."

His lips thinned, an expression she frequently saw in her own mirror. "No, I don't. What I did was inexcusable. I regret it every day of my life."

"You
shot
a man."

"It was an accident." He held up a hand. "An accident I caused. But I didn’t go there intending on hurting that man. Roughing him up a little- but not hurting him."

"Killing him, you mean. Leaving his family without a husband and father." Her voice cracked. Leaving Liam without a father.

"I can’t take that back. But I've paid my price. I lost my family, the best years of my life."

She shook her head. "I can’t deal with this right now." A blanket of calm layered settled over confusion and the grim echoes of her childhood, of her automatic… wariness of him. Of his stress induced temper and dislike of anything
Bear.
Meredith glanced around for her purse, grabbing it off the hook where she'd hung it last night. "I’m going out. When I get back we can talk and figure out what you're going to do." After all, that’s what she did. Help people straighten up their lives.

Harvey said nothing. She left the apartment, starting up her car and driving aimlessly, roads she’d traveled her whole life. Traffic this time of day was low- most people were at church. Guilt pinged her- just a little. She probably needed to go to church. Lord knew she had sins to make up for, first of all being the catalyst of her father's horrible actions that day.

Because if it hadn't been for her, he never would have confronted Conroy that day.

The only place she ever went when she needed peace was the garden. The earth calmed her nerves, familiar tasks requiring just enough attention that she could think peacefully, or let her thoughts go and be silent.

"Hey, teach."

Meredith glanced up and smiled. Well, she wasn’t the only one who retreated to the gardens when her thoughts were troubled.

"Shouldn’t you be in Sunday school?" she asked Brick, arching an eyebrow. The teenager snorted, knowing she was teasing.

"I’ll go when you go." Brick sat on a nearby bench. Meredith noticed a wide book in the girl’s hands.

"What's that?"

"Library book. I wanted to read up on winter gardens. I thought we could try to build greenhouses this year. They aren’t expensive. Some pipe and plastic."

Meredith nodded. "You read my mind. I had plans to talk to you guys about it this week. If we decide to grow winter greens, we need to start our seeds."

Brick read, leafing through pages and making occasional comments while Meredith worked. The sun continued to rise, heating up the air past pleasant warm and back into uncomfortable hot.

"I need something to drink," Meredith said, swiping a hand across her forehead. Sweaty. Ugh.

"My timing is perfect, then."

She would have jumped, but Brick's quick glance over Meredith’s shoulder provided a few seconds warning. She rose, wiping hands on her thighs, and turned.

Liam held two tumblers of what looked like homemade lemonade. It wasn’t a commercial bright yellow, and real slices of lemon floated in the bottom.

"Bless you," she said, forgetting her nervousness, forgetting her reservations, and nearly lunging for the glass. He handed the second tumbler to Brick, who nodded her thanks. "Oh, this is good. Ginger and cayenne?"

He smiled. "Good buds. I have to kick it up a notch."

Meredith laughed. "This isn't Grandma's lemonade, that's for sure. What brings you out on a Sunday?"

Her smile faded as she remembered the reason she was out on a Sunday.

"Hey," he said, watching her. "What's wrong? You were just smiling."

She looked at the pile of tools at her feet, shaking her head. "Nothing. Just my own issues."

Liam slung an arm around her shoulders, turning her towards the bench. Brick scooted over, eyes narrowed.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked.

"No."

"Then talk to me about the class. As a matter of fact why don't we go back to my place and have lunch. You, too," he said to Brick. "I could use a student's perspective as well."

Meredith hesitated. If he'd just invited her, her answer would have been a flat out refusal. But Brick was watching, and Meredith was conscious of the importance for the girl to participate in as many positive social interactions with adults as possible.

"Okay. Let me go in my office and grab my planner and notebooks."

"So..." Liam turned to the human teenager. "Have you been with Teens and Greens long?"

The girl shrugged, eyeing him sideways. "About two years."

"Do you like it?"

She turned her head to face him fully, lip curling. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

Spare him from the scorn of children. "Seems like it. Is Meredith a good teacher?" The girl- Brick? That couldn’t be her name- frowned at him.

"Why don’t you let the garden tell you whether she's a good teacher. We make money with our produce. And it tastes good, too."

"Huh." He supposed that logic made sense. As a chef, the proof of his skill was on the plate. Standing, he wandered further into the garden, taking a closer look at various plants.

"So are you going to kick us out?" the girl asked. He turned around, studying her. She was on her feet now, arms folded nonchalantly. But her eyes were a little too serious, belying the casual pose.

“It means a lot to you, doesn’t it? Most teenagers would be somewhere fun on a weekend.”

“You’re a frou frou chef and growing real food isn’t fun to you?”

Liam laughed. “It is to
me
. But I’m a bit older than you.” He studied her, considering. “Or is it that there just isn’t anywhere fun in this small place to go?”

She shrugged, looking down. Liam dropped the subject, sensing something was wrong- but it wasn’t his business.

“So you kicking us out or what? You changed the subject.”

"No, I’m not kicking you out. Meredith and I are going to work out an arrangement."

"Cool." Her head rose. "Do you like her?"

"What?"

She tilted her head, hacked off dark hair brushing thin shoulders. "I’m not stupid. And I’m not a kid. But she doesn’t date much, so maybe you wanna leave her alone."

Really.
"I think I’d like to get to know her better. She seems... interesting."

"Yeah. Well, just make sure when you're getting to
know
her better, you're treating her decent. She doesn’t deserve to be played."

Was this how normal teenage girls talked? He couldn’t remember ever having this kind of conversation with a kid before.

"I don’t play games, and I don’t want to hurt her."

"Cool. Why don’t I give you a tour?"

They spent the next several minutes going through the various plants in the garden. Brick was knowledgeable, talking with a confidence that demanded respect. Both for her, and for her teacher.

After a while Liam looked back towards the building. "I’m going to go see what's taking Meredith so long," he said. "She may have decided to skip out on us." He didn't really know her, but his Bear already had a good feel for the woman's personality. And as a man, he recognized her reluctant attraction for what it was. She leaned to close to the skittish side of the female spectrum for his comfort. He couldn’t court a woman who didn’t want to be courted. Well, he
could
. It would just make things more difficult.