Through a Magnolia Filter (15 page)

“Right, then.” He pushed away from the table and slung his camera bag over his shoulder. “I'm off.”

Dolley pulled bills out of her purse and tossed them on the table. “I'll come with you.”

“Stay with your friends.” The words came out in a harsh growl.

“No.” She leaned down to Anne. “I'll talk to you tomorrow.”

Liam strode toward the exit, not waiting. He'd wanted to stay and listen to the music, but his pleasure was gone.

Her light footsteps echoed behind him. “Wait.”

He kept going. His legs chewed up the distance. Disappointment was the only companion he wanted right now. That and maybe Jameson.

“Liam!” The click of her shoes moved faster.

He couldn't bear to look at her. He should be making sure Dolley got home safely, but everything inside hated her duplicity. Didn't she know he would have helped her no matter what?

Now everything had changed.

He took the steps up to Bay Street two at a time, his thighs complaining at the pace. But he couldn't shake the echo of her footsteps.

There was a smack of leather on stone. And a grunt. “Ooohh.”

Don't turn around.
But he couldn't stop himself.

Dolley was splayed over the steps, cradling her bag.

He closed his eyes and exhaled. Then headed down the steps. “Are you all right?”

Tears glistened in her eyes. “No.”

He bent and took her elbow to help her off the cold, wet steps.

She winced and stood slowly. Her arm shook under his fingers.

“Can you check my camera?” Her voice trembled as much as her body.

Liam slid the strap over her shoulder, bumping the side of her breast. “Sorry.”

His body perked up, and he slapped down his desire. His campaign was through. Pulling out her Nikon, he checked that there weren't any dents. Then he turned on the power, focused, shot pictures of the steps above them. “Everything's savage.”

“What?”

“Fine. It's fine.”

“It's not what you think. Really. I told Anne about the possibility of you becoming my mentor.” Her words ran together. She grabbed his hand and stared into his eyes. “I might have said it would be great if you could help me. But that's not why I wanted to learn from you. You're talented. That's why I wanted to work with you. Not so you would find me a job.”

He yanked his hand away but couldn't stop staring at her face. She gnawed on her poor lower lip.

“Please, Liam.” She touched his arm.

He shrugged away her hand. “Are you okay to walk?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

He started to climb the stairs but stopped to check on her.

Dolley grabbed the railing and shuffled her feet one step at a time. Each time she put weight on her left leg, her face contorted.

“Oh, for God's sake,” he muttered.

Retracing his steps, again, he stopped next to her. “What did you do?”

“I tried to save my camera, so I twisted and landed on my left side. My hip took a beating.” Her words came out in a shaky gasp.

“Hang on.” He shouldn't have come to the pub with her. Why hadn't he left well enough alone? He placed one arm under her thighs and the other around her waist. “Up you go.”

“Oh.” She grasped his neck with her hand.

He'd imagined holding her countless times, but this scenario wasn't in any of his fantasies. How could cuddling her into his chest feel so right and be so wrong? As he climbed the stairs, he tried to make sure he didn't press his fingers into her sore left side.

Obviously, he wasn't meant to be part of any relationship. Even Dolley only wanted to be around him for what he could do for her career.

“Please, forgive me.” She set her head against his chest. “It wasn't like Anne made it sound. I just want to do something special with my photography. Is it wrong to dream?”

“It's wrong if you're using me.” His head brushed against the curls peeking out from her woolen hat. They were as soft as he remembered. Her warm scent wrapped around him.

“If I was using you, would I have fought so hard to keep things businesslike?” Her fingers twisted the button of his coat. “Wouldn't I have encouraged a relationship?”

“I don't know what goes on in the computer you call a brain.” His anger was fading. He wanted to clutch it tight, so he didn't get hurt.

“It wasn't that way.” She touched his face. “It was the day you offered the mentorship. I was so nervous. I have no idea what I told Anne.”

He looked down at the curvy bundle in his arms. Mistake. Tears hung on her eyelashes. “Apparently, you told her you like my voice.”

“I love your voice.” She hiccupped. “I could listen to you all night.”

Was that an invitation?

He'd never understand Dolley.

He focused on the sidewalk and not the woman in his arms. He was going to get mental whiplash from her.

“I can probably walk.” She tucked her head deeper into his chest. Even through the layers of coat and shirt, her touch had him heating up.

He set her on her feet, if for no other reason than self-preservation.

“I'm sure it's just a bad bruise.” She took a few hobbling steps, favoring her left leg. “Trying to walk up the steps was too much. I'll be fine.”

He stayed right next to her, wanting to put his arm around her waist, just to help her keep the pressure off her sore side.

Her jaw gritted with determination, but with each step, her shoulders stiffened.

“Oh, devil take me.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and took her weight every time she stepped on her left leg.

“Thanks,” she whispered through clenched teeth.

“Where do you live?” he asked.

“Just...take me to Fitzgerald House. I'll crash in the carriage house.”

“Grand.” Everything was
grand
, right?

Her curls brushed his nose, enticing him with the scent that was all Dolley. He tried to hold on to his anger, really tried, but he couldn't. He didn't want the wound from her mercenary talk to heal.

“What did you think I could do for you?” he asked.

“What?” she croaked.

“When you were talking to Anne, what did you think
I
could do for you?”

“I have no idea.” Her head rubbed back and forth in the cup of his shoulder. “I guess advice more than anything. It was a nebulous desire. I want to...to be you. Travel and see the world through my camera lens.”

“I've done it.” He thought about sleeping on the ground in bug-infested tents. Of making acquaintances for a month or two. Of never belonging. “It's not as romantic as you think.”

“But you've done it.” He felt her sigh. “You make a living doing what you love.”

She stumbled, and he tightened his grip. “There's more to living than making a living.” But she'd never understand that. She had what he wanted—family, friends, roots.

“Too bad we can't change places,” he mumbled.

“Why would you want to be a nobody website designer stuck in Savannah?”

“You need to work on your self-image.”

“That's what I am.” She shifted, and a moan rumbled through her body.

“I want to get back to the B and B before next month.” He swept her back up in his arms. “You're a partner in a successful business. You're incredibly bright and a brilliant photographer.”

He felt her head tip back, but he wasn't going to look down at her. If he did, he'd kiss her. How could this woman not understand she was amazing?

“In Savannah, I'm just the youngest Fitzgerald sister. Everyone knows about Abby and Bess. I'm the other one.”

He stared at her. Gave in and brushed a kiss on her forehead. “You are so wrong.”

He took a side gate into the Fitzgerald House courtyard. Lights spilled through windows and curtains in the main house. The bushes glowed with tiny blue-and-white lights. A nighttime fairyland.

It would be safer to leave Dolley at the foot of the carriage house stairs, but she needed his help. The thump of his steps on the stairs echoed in the night.

He set her gently on her feet. She dug in her purse and came up with a key chain sporting a fob with the Fitzgerald House logo.

Everything she touched carried the mark of her family's success. How could she think she wasn't a key ingredient to that recipe? He'd heard the three sisters discuss their business. Everyone's voice was heard.

He wanted desperately to be valued like that. Not for his talent, but because he was Liam.

Dolley had no clue how lucky she was.

“Thank you for helping me,” she said, unlocking her door.

“You're welcome.” He started to turn, but she clutched his arm. He reached out to steady her.

Her face, normally so animated, was solemn. “I'm sorry.”

She tugged on his shoulders, forcing him to bend.

Her lips settled against his mouth. Just a soft brush, but enough to set his body churning.

He clutched her, tugging her onto her toes.

Her mouth opened under his.

He should push her away.

Instead, he wrapped his arms under that sweet behind and pulled her so she didn't stand on her sore leg.

His tongue chased hers. There was that taste he craved. All Dolley. He swept kisses along her cheek, running his teeth along the delicate shell of her ear. He blew softly into her ear.

She moaned his name, tugging him back to her mouth. This kiss was deeper, hotter.

His breath rasped in and out.

Her hands roamed down his back, cupping his butt and pulling him closer.

He braced her against her door to take more.

It flew open, banging on the wall and bouncing back. He caught the rebounding door before it smacked her.

She dropped her head to his shoulder and laughed. A laugh that vibrated through her whole body.

“We're barking mad,” he gasped. Hugging her close, he let his rusty laugh join hers, their chests rising and falling together.

She wiggled down his body. He held her until she was steady. He hated the cool air that filled the space where they had touched. He leaned against the door frame, not wanting to leave, but knowing he wasn't going to stay. Pity, that.

“Are we okay?” she asked. “I don't want my stupidity to screw anything up.”

“We're good.” He stroked her cheek. “I'll wander back to my room.”

“Thank you for helping me.” Her green eyes were huge as she shuffled into the apartment.

He tugged the door closed with a click.

Setting his hand on the wood, he sighed. He'd gotten what he wanted. Dolley had kissed him.

What did it mean? Had she kissed him so he would keep helping her? Was it panic—or real?

CHAPTER TEN

Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.

Confucius

“H
AVE
YOU
SEEN
L
IAM
?
” Dolley limped into the kitchen. She had to make sure she and Liam were okay.

“Was I on Liam watch?” Abby made a production of checking her to-do list. “Nope. You have that honor.”

“Right.” Dolley rolled her eyes. Wait. Did Abby suspect something? “I thought...you might have talked to him this morning. That's all,” she sputtered.

Abby frowned. “Did something happen?”

“We were at Kevin Barry's, and Anne was drunk. She said something that made it sound like I was...using him.” Dolley rubbed her temple, but her headache pounded harder.

“Liam's spent enough time with you to know that's not true.” Abby came over and rubbed Dolley's left arm. “Don't worry.”

Dolley winced.

Abby pulled away. “What's wrong?”

“I fell climbing the River Street stairs.” She exhaled. “And landed on my left side.”

“Oh, Dolley.” Abby reached out to hug her but stopped. “Would a cup of tea help?”

“Yes.” Dolley shuffled to the sitting area and eased onto the sofa with a groan. “Any muffins left from breakfast?”

“Do you want apple cinnamon or the ginger fig?”

“Ginger fig.”

Dolley leaned back on the sofa and closed her eyes. What if Liam had second thoughts? What if he believed she was mercenary? Had kissing him seemed like a ploy, too? Her head throbbed with worry.

“Here you go.” Abby set a mug of tea on the coffee table. Then she handed her a couple of ibuprofen and a warm muffin with cream cheese melting on the top.

“You're the best.” Dolley swallowed the pills.

“What are you doing here so early?”

“I didn't want to walk to my apartment last night.” Dolley shifted off a sore spot. “I crashed in the carriage house.”

“You must really hurt.” Abby turned to her lists. “Did you get your bridesmaid's dress back from the seamstress yesterday?”

“I didn't have a chance. I might have Technicolor skin for your wedding.”

“You're that bruised?” Alarm filled Abby's voice.

Dolley rolled up the sleeve of her sweater. A deep purple bruise covered most of her upper arm.

“Ouch. There's always makeup. Maybe the bruises will fade in two weeks.”

“If they don't, Liam will make
me
touch up the photos.” Assuming he didn't fire her. “Or I can only have the right side of my body in the pictures.”

They both chuckled.

“Don't make me laugh.” Dolley grabbed her ribs. “It hurts.”

Abby sat on the coffee table and took her good hand. “I should take you to the ER. You could have cracked a rib.”

“I'm just sore.” Dolley changed the subject. “I saw Mamma's coming down the end of the week.”

A smile lit Abby's face. “She loved the idea of being part of Liam's documentary. Personally, I think she wants to adopt the man. We'll do the interview before the wedding.”

“Great.”
Not.
She didn't want to have to talk on camera. Dolley rolled a little. The bruise on her hip ached.

While she finished her tea and muffin, they talked about Carleton House and timing issues. “I guess I'll see if I can find Liam.”

Maybe she should call. Going to his room might make him doubt her sincerity even more. She rolled her shoulders. Mistake. She breathed through the pain.

Even after taking the elevator, she was groaning by the time she knocked on Liam's door.

“Coming,” he called.

The door opened. His face was a solemn mask. “Hallo.”

His blue gaze stole her breath. She wheezed out, “Hi.”

They stared at each other. Sound slipped away. There was only him. Their chests rose and fell in sync.

He didn't reach for her. Did he regret last night? Or was it happening again? A couple of kisses and another man was done with her.

“Would you like to come in?” he asked.

“Yes.” She forced her feet to move in a limping shuffle.

Last time she'd been in his room, she hadn't noticed the clutter of Liam's life. Piles of books overflowed the tables. Flip charts hung from the walls. Notepads occupied the chairs. “Impressive.”

“Yes.” But he wasn't looking at his work, he was looking at her.

A blush heated her face—darn redheaded genes.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Nervous.” She wrapped her arms around her waist, her fingers tapping her sweater. “Embarrassed. Anxious.”

His eyebrows popped up. “I meant your side. Where you fell.”

“Oh.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Sore. I'm growing impressive bruises.”

“I'm sorry you were hurt.”

They stood in the middle of the room.

“I just—” she said.

“Last night—” he started at the same time.

They both stopped.

“Sit.” He cleared a tablet off the sofa.

She sank onto the cushions, easing her foot onto the coffee table.

Instead of sitting next to her, he took the armchair. “Go ahead.”

She'd rather Liam go first.

If she apologized again and he thanked her but wanted nothing more to do with her, she'd curl into a depressed ball. Stalling, she asked, “What were you going to say?”

“Ladies first.”

“I'm sorry Anne made me sound...like such a scheming bitch.” She looked into his eyes, biting her lower lip. “It's not true.”

“Do you think I think so little of you?” His voice was low and deep.

“I...I don't know.” She rubbed her temple. “I'm not good with men.”

“You have more male friends than I do!”

“I'm not good at the—” she waved her hand between their bodies “—romantic part. Men don't like me that way.”

“Then they don't see how amazing you are, darlin'.” He shifted to the sofa, sitting on her right side. “May I put my arm around you?”

She nodded, afraid if she talked, her voice would crack.

Carefully, he tucked her into his chest. “I don't want to hurt you.”

She turned her face into his shirt. “You were upset last night.”

“I got over it.” He brushed his lips on her forehead. “You kissed my anger away.”

She traced patterns on his chest. The ability to touch him felt natural but odd.

“What are you frettin' on?” he asked.

“Why are you so different?” she blurted out.

“Different?” He smoothed a curl off her face. “How's that?”

“You've been around me for almost a month.” She looked at her lap. “Most guys tire of me by now.”

He tugged her chin up. “I told you, Yanks don't appreciate you.”

Cupping her cheek, he dipped his head. His eyes were so serious, it made her breath catch in her chest.

“You're special.” His mouth brushed hers.

She tilted her head, wanting more than a soft, tender kiss.

His lips pressed harder, and she opened to him. He delved in and stroked her tongue.

She chased his tongue with hers, tasting coffee and mint and Liam.

He groaned. His hand slipped to her chest, hesitating when she wanted him to be bold.

She pressed his hand to her breast.

“Dolley.” His hands tested and massaged. His thumb brushed against her aching nipple. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her onto his lap.

“Owww.” Pain knifed through her.

He cursed. “I forgot. I'm sorry. Sorry.”

She let out a shaky breath, tears filling her eyes. “Damn.”

His hand stroked her back. “Are you all right?”

She took a shallow, shaky breath. “I will be.”

He eased her back onto the sofa. “I should have waited.”

“I didn't want you to.” She wanted more, but the pain was too much.

Concern filled his face. “Can I get you something? Do you need pills, water?”

“Abby took care of me.” She smoothed her finger over the furrows between his eyebrows. “Now what?”

He pressed a chaste kiss on her lips. “Now we work in the attic.”

She chuckled. “You say the sweetest things.”

As they headed to the elevator, she asked, “Working together won't change, right?” Anxiousness made her voice crack.

“I always thought we could work together and have a relationship.” His jaw flexed. “Why don't we take it a day at a time?”

One day at a time. She liked to plan a little further ahead than that. But maybe that was her problem. “Okay. A day at a time.”

* * *

D
OLLEY
GRABBED
THE
box of half-dead plants from her car. It was moving day for her and Carleton House.

No working with Liam on research or photography today. She sighed. And no kisses. His kisses over the last week and a half were the highlight of her day. Year. Decade. She worried she was a junkie, first addicted to his cologne and now his kisses.

Bess and Abby exited the Fitzgerald House kitchen door.

“Moving day!” Abby called from across the courtyard. “Do you want me to grab anything?”

“There are boxes and suitcases in my car.” Dolley hurried up the steps as fast as she could. Most of the soreness had eased, but her hip still hurt. Plus, she didn't want Bess to see the plants she'd almost killed.

“What have you done?” Bess's steps pounded behind her.

“How could you see the plants from across the courtyard?” Dolley asked.

Bess shook her head. “I heard them crying.”

Dolley handed Bess the box and unlocked the door. “I've been busy.”

“No excuses,” Bess scolded, taking the box into the kitchen. She pulled out a drooping Peace Lily and African violet. “Oh, my lands.”

Dolley left her tending the abused plants. She held the door for Abby as her sister hauled in a suitcase, then headed to the car to grab more boxes.

The car was empty in fifteen minutes.

“I feel like we just moved Bess out of here.” Abby sank to the floor.

“We did.” Dolley checked to see if any of the trucks had arrived.

“Daniel's just leaving your apartment.” Bess looked up from her phone. “Rest while you can, ladies. We'll unload your furniture. The first truck for Carleton House arrives in fifty minutes.”

“It's hard to believe this is happening.” Abby bounced a little. “Last year Fitzgerald House had unfinished rooms.”

They talked about reservations and Abby's wedding and Bess's engagement. She hadn't figured out how to tell her sisters about Liam.

She chewed her nail.

“Not you, too.” Abby tapped her hand. “Don't pick up Bess's bad habit.”

Dolley pulled her thumb away from her mouth.

“What's wrong?” Bess asked. “Still sore?”

“Yeah.” Let them think it was her bruises rather than confessing she was in a relationship with her mentor. She didn't want anyone to think what she and Liam were exploring was—sleazy. She took in a deep breath. It was amazing. He was amazing.

The rumble of a truck in the parking lot had them pushing to their feet.

“Let's do this.” Dolley led the way down the steps.

“You're limping,” Abby said to Dolley. “Hand out boxes from the truck.”

“Okay.” Dolley didn't argue.

Gray dropped the truck ramp with a clang. “Are you ready?”

Abby pulled him into a hug. “Always.”

Daniel came around from the front of the truck and swung Bess into a hug. “'Morning.”

The two couples kissed.

“Enough,” Dolley called out, wishing Liam was here to greet her the same way. She climbed into the truck and handed boxes to her sisters. “Do something constructive.”

Daniel and Gray pulled out her sofa.

While they climbed the stairs, she moved boxes to the truck ramp. It held most of her possessions. If she left Savannah, what would she do with her things? Her stomach twisted at the thought.

“What can I haul up?” Liam called from outside.

Warmth filled her. “What are you doing here?”

“Helping.” He hopped into the truck and closed in on her.

“You're a guest.” Dolley chewed her lip.

Touching her cheek, he said, “I want to help. You're not completely healed.”

She drew in a quick breath, leaning into his touch. Her heart pounded. After being around him for a while, shouldn't this physical reaction lessen? “Thanks.”

“'Morning.” His voice was low. It drilled into her core.

Her hand covered his. “'Morning.”

Footsteps echoed on the stairs.

They stepped apart.

“I feel guilty pulling you away from your work,” she said.

“Don't.” His eyes sparkled in the dim light. “It just means you'll have to spend late nights helping me catch up.”

He jumped out of the truck and grabbed a box before she could reply.

Swallowing, she stripped off her fleece sweatshirt. It was heating up in here.

They emptied the truck. Boxes and people filled her new living room.

Daniel looked up from his phone. “The first Carleton House truck is almost here.”

Everyone headed over to Carleton House, but she held Liam back.

“Thank you.” She stood on her toes and brushed a kiss on his lips.

He backed her against the door, his fingers threading through her hair. “I hated the idea of not seeing you all day.”

Her mouth dropped open, and he took advantage of her surprise. Their tongues thrust and parried, a mock duel she didn't mind losing.

When he pulled away, she was gasping. Thank goodness she was leaning against the door, or her legs might have given way.

He grinned. “Let's head to Carleton House.”