Tell Them Lies (Three Little Words Book 3) (8 page)

"Liz isn't big on PDA. Makes her all twitchy."

Lifting one eyebrow in concession, Rachel kept staring at them.

"But," Kieran continued, "I think it's good for her to stretch her boundaries."

And then he used the arm around her shoulders to dip her backwards, wrapped his free arm around her waist and took her mouth in an inappropriately deep kiss. Since gravity demanded that Liz grip his arms so as to not fall completely over, she did just that. The squeak that popped out of her mouth, which was still pressed tight against his, made his lips curve in a smile, effectively breaking the seal of the kiss.

When he started pulling her back up, he used the hand that had been anchored at her waist and slipped it just underneath the hem of her shirt, dragging his fingers against her skin as she stood. Then he winked before he released her and turned back towards Rachel, who was straight out gawking at Liz.

Rachel’s lips spread in a slow smile, then she shook her head. "I knew you had it in you, you little hussy."

Liz cleared her throat, casting a side-eyed glare at Kieran, who was grinning in a ridiculous self-satisfied way. "Yes, well, that’s... lovely." Then she turned to Kieran. "Wait, what are you doing here? I wasn't expecting you."

He shrugged, looking around her family room, smiling a bit at the overloaded bookshelf that took up the biggest wall. Like it was the first time he’d seen it, which of course, it was. Only Rachel didn’t know that it was the first time he’d seen it. "You forgot something at my house the other night, that recipe that my mom wrote down for you."

Rachel had plopped back into the chair, watching them with unconcealed fascination, and it made Liz feel itchy. Like she was on the world's largest, most revealing stage. Kieran's mom had been different, she didn't know Liz, but Rachel? Rachel
knew
Liz. And knew that Liz's face had always been a perfectly clear reflection of everything she felt. And it took every shred of control to try and keep the nerves and guilt from blanketing her expression. At least she
thought
she was.

Given that Rachel was studying Kieran like he was on exhibit, Liz must've been doing just fine. When Liz saw the way Rachel's eyes lingered on the swirling black tattoos that wrapped around his bicep and down his forearm, it heated the back of her neck. Like she wanted to wrap her hands around his skin so that nobody could see it except
her
.

Which was completely and utterly ridiculous, wasn't it? He wasn't hers, and she'd never felt possessive in her entire life. Over anything except her first edition books. And Rachel was married, blissfully married.

But still, Liz cleared her throat again, and both of their eyes moved back to her.

"So, the recipe?"

"Oh." He dug into the back pocket of his pants and handed her a crumpled piece of paper, which did actually hold a recipe for lemon bars that Maggie had told Liz about. She smoothed it out and smiled at him. He smiled back. And a thick silence fell around the three of them.

Rachel cleared her throat from her seat. "Why is this awkward right now? Because I cannot be the only one who's feeling a wee bit uncomfortable."

Kieran leaned a hip against the back of Liz's couch and stared across at Rachel. "Yup. You're exactly like she described. I like it."

"What?"

"You don't bullshit. You're my kinda people," he answered.

"So you don't deny that the awkward in this room is like Chernobyl level," Rachel shot back, crossing her arms over her torso.

"I feel fine," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Hmm." That was Rachel's response.
Hmm
. Liz's heart went
thud
. Just one really big thud, and it felt like a bomb going off in her chest. Then she focused the entirety of her suddenly cold eyes straight on Kieran. "What are your intentions towards my friend?"

He laughed, then moved around to sit on the couch. His hands hung in between his legs when he rested his elbows on his knees. Very male thing to do. And very disconcerting in how comfortable he looked on her furniture.

"I'm not trying to be funny," Rachel said when Kieran didn't answer. She raised both eyebrows and held them there. "What are your intentions?"

Kieran leaned back, looked back over at Liz where she was wringing her hands in front of her. Confrontation made her want to just run. Anywhere. Anywhere that wasn't where the argument was. But Kieran winked at her again, and then turned the full force of a smile on Rachel.

"My intentions?" He rubbed a hand along the underside of his jaw. "I guess they're what any man's are when trying to get to know a beautiful and intriguing woman. I'm interested. Is there something wrong with that?"

"Nope." Rachel popped the 'p' when she said it. "Interested is a far cry from committed. And what I love about Liz is she's not the kind to just screw around."

Something in Rachel’s well-intentioned statement pricked at Liz. Because it was almost precisely what she’d worried about earlier. What that kiss had meant to her was probably galaxies away from what it meant to Kieran, who was just trying to do something nice for his mother.

"And you think I am? You haven't known me long enough to make that kind of judgment." And he smiled again.

"Your smile probably gets you pretty far with women, doesn't it?"

"Rachel," Liz interjected, feeling distinctly uncomfortable at the direction the conversation was taking.

"Just hang on, Blondie. I'm not gonna run him off. If he has nothing to hide, he should be fine with me asking some questions, right?"

Kieran leaned forward again. "Don't you think Liz is smart enough to figure out what kind of man I am without your help? Are you her mother?"

"Kieran," Liz said on a sigh. And it was like she wasn't even speaking.

Rachel's lips curved into a dangerous smile when she shook her head. "Not her mother. Not even close. Liz's mother is a wonderful, kind woman."

"That's good to know."

"I," Rachel pressed a hand to her chest, "on the other hand, am not wonderful and kind. And I will jack you up if you hurt her in any way. Capisce?"

Kieran's eyebrows popped up in surprise and Liz groaned, covering her face. And why was she even shocked? Rachel wasn't putting on an act or a show for Kieran's sake. She loved threatening people. Really and truly.

"Well, okay then," Kieran said after a few seconds of silence. Liz dropped her hands. Kieran's face was serious. And his eyes never wavered from Rachel. "You have my word."

"Excellent," Rachel said and clapped her hands once. The sharp sound echoed in the room like a hammer had dropped on the hardwood floor. She stood from the chair after looking at her phone. "I better go. Tate just sent me a text asking if I was dead in a ditch somewhere."

Liz smiled, both at the text and at how relieved Kieran looked that Rachel was leaving. Rachel squeezed Liz in a hug and then walked over to where Kieran still sat and extended her hand. And of course, instead of taking it, Kieran stood and hugged Rachel instead.

"Uhhh," Rachel said, hands hanging limply by her sides. "I don't know if we're at this stage of our relationship yet, Kieran. We've barely moved past me threatening you. Let's take baby steps, okay?"

Kieran laughed as he let her go, then ruffled Rachel's red hair, earning him a hard glare when she smoothed it down again. Liz just shook her head.

Stopping just before she reached for the doorknob, Rachel looked over her shoulder at Liz. "I reserve final judgment until I see how he cleans up for Casey's wedding. But I give him a B minus right now."

"B plus?" Kieran muttered and Liz had to hold in a laugh.

After Rachel had shut the door behind her, and the sound of her car's rumbling engine disappeared down the street, Liz finally moved her gaze to Kieran's face. He was staring right back at her.

"Well, she's scary as hell."

Liz laughed, but he looked very serious.

"So," she said, smoothing down the front of her plain cotton shirt. "You really came over here to bring me the recipe?"

He watched her for a few more seconds then turned to look at some the titles on her bookshelf. With one finger, he pulled on the spine of her The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, smiling when he tapped it back into place.

"No." And then he just kept on looking around. No further answer. The way he pored over her family room fascinated her. The whole room took on a different light, thinking about how he might view it. Did the light blue on her walls look too soft for him? Did the whitewashed wood floors seem cold? What did he think of all of her books? They probably looked haphazard and disorganized, but she had a fairly exact system of organization, one that stopped just short of the Dewey Decimal in her own home.

She'd always loved her home. It was small, slightly cottage-y in feel, favoring blues and whites in the decor. After three years there, she'd made it exactly how she wanted it. And other than being a tad too quiet sometimes, it was perfect for her.

After staring at a framed photo of Liz with her parents, the largest one on her fireplace mantle, he turned to her with a remarkably serious look on his face. She backed up a step from the sheer force of it, only to be stopped by the arm of her couch.

"So," she tested out her voice, then cleared her throat, "if you didn't really come to bring me the recipe, why did you come over?"

"Maybe I missed you."

She felt it, the blush that flooded her face, so she forced a nervous laugh and looked down at the way her hands were clasped in her lap. "Rachel isn't here, Kieran. You don't need to lie."

When he didn't answer, she dared a look at him again and this time he was grinning. It was wide and cocky and horrifyingly attractive. Then he stretched his arms up, and grasped the bottom edge of the solid wood beams that ran across her ceiling. Leaning forward so that he was stretching his body forward, he groaned. The edge of his black t-shirt lifted so that Liz could see the ridged lines of his abdomen and she snapped her eyes back up to his face.

He settled his arms back down by his side and moved to sit in the chair across from her, the curved lines of the arms and soft cushions looking ridiculously feminine with his broad frame up against them.

"Have you known me to be a person who lies?" He chuckled when she responded to that with an incredulous look. "Okay, fair enough. But to you. Do you think I'd tell you that if I didn't mean it?"

It was almost unfair, the way his face fit together so handsomely. The way his nose perfectly sat in between his eyes, those dark, dark eyes, and his immaculately shaped mouth. They weren't too big, his lips. And his eyes held this perpetual look of mischief in them. And that jaw, the way the dark hair covered it. None of it was fair. The tattoos weren't fair, the muscles weren't fair, and the way he wanted to do all of this with her just to make his mother happy
was not fair.
And when he said those types of things? To what... play into the role?

It wasn't. Fair.

"Earth to Liz," Kieran said, waving his hand in front of her face.

"No. I don't think you'd lie to me like that."

Leaning back in the chair, he studied her after the blunt response. "Good. Now, what do I need to do for this wedding?"

The bricks fell into place in her head, like a tiny little Tetris game had just been unlocked. Of course. They only had a week and a half until Casey's wedding. Holding a finger up, she walked out of the room and into the kitchen, picking up the folder Casey had given her a few days ago. Sliding out the top piece of paper when she walked back into the room, she handed it to him before she sat back down.

"This is," he said as he scrolled down the page, "like, really detailed."

Liz laughed. "Yes. Rachel is an event planner, and Casey is the most OCD person on the planet. So their forces combined have made for one airtight wedding schedule."

"So, it looks like I should pick you up at around five thirty for rehearsal dinner?"

Shaking her head, Liz leaned over and pointed to something higher up on the piece of paper. "Unless you plan on sitting through rehearsal, you might as well just meet me at the restaurant."

But Kieran wasn't looking at the paper. When she lifted her eyes up, he was staring at her again.

"What?" she asked, almost snapped actually. Because really, who needed to
stare
as much as he did.

"What are you wearing for the wedding?" And damn his eyes, because they were honed in right at her mouth. "Like, your bridesmaid dress."

"It's," Liz scoffed, "why do you want to know?"

He zipped his eyes up to hers, then shrugged, breaking the intensity and making it so Liz could actually breathe again. "Curious."

"Well, it's nothing special." Which was a lie. So maybe she was getting better at the whole deception thing. Because truthfully, she felt incredible in the dresses that Casey had picked. And there was no small part of her that wanted to see Kieran's jaw hit the ground when he saw her in it.

He must've accepted her answer, because they talked about what he would be expected to wear for both events, and then he stood to leave. Which meant she had no good reason to see him before the rehearsal dinner, nine days away.

Right. Which was normal. Because they weren't really dating.

Kieran stopped at the door, and she looked up at him.

"You nervous to do this?"

"This?" she repeated.

"Yeah. In front of your friends. Rachel was an accident tonight, but are you ready to put on that little show in front of dozens of people who know you?"

Liz swallowed hard, working at regulating her breathing. He smiled, just a small one, then lifted a hand to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. His finger lingered for just a second where her jaw curved.

"It'll be fine," she said, sounding about as unconvincing as she felt.

Then he leaned in and touched his forehead to hers. "We're in this together, angel.
We
will be fine."

And maybe the absolute perfection of his response just made it all the harder to think he didn't mean every word he said.