Page List


Font:  

Chapter Five

Liam

I made a conscious decision not to tell my mom I asked Orla out. I don’t want to put her in a position to have to keep something from my dad. Still at the hotel finishing up, I decide to attempt to call my sister since she has not returned any of my calls. Sitting on the bed, I listen as it rings and rings and then goes to voicemail. Deciding not to seem as uptight as my parents, I keep it light and simply tell her I was missing seeing her this week and to call me. Although I know my mom can be a worry wart, I am starting to feel some type of way about not seeing her or her returning my texts.

Dressed and ready to go, I fortify myself before taking the elevator down to the car. I have never been nervous for a date in my life, not even when I took Lori Hennessey to prom. Right now, though, I feel like it is my first time, and that is telling in itself. The drive to her grandmother's house from the hotel is too quick but also too long. I grab the pink daisies I got from the souvenir shop in the hotel lobby and ring the bell. “Mrs. Byrne. How are you this evening?” I say to her grandmother as she invites me in.

“I am doing as well as an old lady can be. The better question is, what do you have planned for my Orla tonight?”

“My buddy Tommy owns the new Italian restaurant Amore per Le Spezie, downtown. I called him and requested a table.”

“Good choice. She loves Italian food, and she deserves something fancy.” Before I can respond, my angel enters the room, and my mouth takes over.

“She sure does,” I say, eye fucking her in front of her grandmother. She is simply exquisite. She is wearing a peach-colored dress that comes above her knee, and even though it is modest and tasteful, being able to see her legs is fucking erotic. I scan her body, my cock following the expanse of her hips, wide and thick, perfect for childbearing, to the dip in her waist that doesn’t hide the curves of her body, proving she eats and doesn’t try to starve herself. Don’t get me started on her tits, Christ. A voice clears in my peripheral, and I realize I am practically a salivating dog. “Wow. You look beautiful.” I tell her the truth, loving how red she turns. Her innocence is more apparent than it was earlier, and it makes me want to chain her to my bed and turn her into my woman.

“Thank you.” Her voice is soft and seductive.

“Do you have everything?” I need something to say to her, so I don’t growl and demolish her right in front of her grandmother. My fucking hands are sweating like a damn boy.

“Yes. My purse is by the door.”

“Shall we?” We walk out the door, and I help her into my car. Leaning over, I take a moment and buckle her in. Her face conveys the same shock I feel at my own actions, but it is compulsory. From the moment she walked into the bakery, all I have wanted to do is take care of her in any way I can.

The ride is quiet, which is as much my fault as anything else. I don’t know if I can control myself, so I am silent. But when I see her hands wringing in her lap, I man up. “Are you nervous?” She smiles and nods her head.

“Yeah. A little bit,” she says, ducking her head. So fucking innocent.

“Me too.” She looks at me skeptically, and when I shrug, she smiles.

“Why are you nervous? I’m sure you are a pro at this.”

“It is true I have been on a few dates, but none of them have meant as much as this one.” I can tell she is stunned at me, honestly, but you know what, right now, I need her to know this isn’t just another late night for me. She says nothing but instead looks out the window. Pulling up to the restaurant, I am getting out when the valet guy walks over to her door and opens it. “Don’t fucking touch her,” I growl, unable to stop myself. I walk over to her door and hold my hand out. Her eyes are big, unsure how to react to what just happened, and to be honest, neither do I. Something in me bubbled up and over when his hand reached for hers. This feeling inside of me is foreign and potent. I don’t know how to handle it.

“What was that?” she asks, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“I don’t really know, angel. Seems I don’t want other men touching you.” We make it into the restaurant without incident, and as expected, my name is on the list. Seated, I attempt to make small talk while we wait for our waiter. “So, tell me about yourself, angel.”


Tags: ChaShiree M Romance