Unwrapping Liam: A Good Girls Don't Novella Read Free Page A

bathrooms. Do you have some type of fetish? Do you need a sex therapist?”
    “Yeah, toilets get me hot.” And so do locks, I added silently. This was less embarrassing than when she had spotted Liam’s pants around his ankles under the stall in the women’s restroom during parents’ weekend. Actually, if I was honest, neither event truly embarrassed me. Not in the crawl into a hole and die way, at least. It really just made me want to scream and punch things, which was why my arms were firmly crossed against my chest.
    “To make myself clear then. Separate bedrooms. Separate bathrooms.” Her eyes traveled down my body, her eyes narrowing at my skimpy apparel, and added, “And separate genitals.”
    Challenge accepted.

CHAPTER THREE
    T he story unfolding via text messages indicated that Jess and Cassie were having an interesting time in Mexico. So far there had been a near arrest, an unexpected encounter, and plenty of drama. I was a little more than jealous that they were off getting into trouble on the beach while I was home for the holidays, but at least I was with Liam. Even if Tara had ensured I was with him in the most chaste way possible.
    Tara had planned a variety of SoCal style holiday activities, which had all ended in near disaster. The only one of us still smiling was Liam, who clearly didn’t have the same sliver of psychosis that my family carried in their genetics. I’d taken to counting the days down like a child with an advent calendar, but my reward was coming on December 26th when we’d be driving back to Washington. 
    Tonight’s fun family activity was pie making. Apparently we needed to have three different pies for the four of us on Christmas Eve, and Tara wouldn’t hear talk that this was ridiculous. We had to have pecan for my dad, apple for tradition, and pumpkin because she hadn’t had any on Thanksgiving. The real issue was that none of us Nichols could stand the sight of each other, so Liam had volunteered a bit too cheerfully for pie making duty. I could care less about the pies, but getting some alone time with my boyfriend—even in the kitchen—was worth it. 
    Standing the kitchen as Liam pulled ingredients out of the pantry, it occurred to me that I didn’t know the first thing about making pie. Any pie. However, I could appreciate the site of Liam with a black Williams-Sonoma apron tied around his trim waist and over his jeans, which hung off his hips in such a way as to make me think about all the things I’d rather be making. With his dark blonde hair and easy smile, he looked at home in Southern California. No one would know he wasn’t American if they saw him in the kitchen making good, old-fashioned apple pie. But it was more than that, he fit here. 
    “Why are you staring at me?” he asked, handing me a mixing bowl. The illusion was shattered when he spoke. Liam was Scottish, not American. And even though that exoticism made him sexy as hell, it also made me sad. I could even swear I heard a timer in the background, ticking down the time left between us.
    “Like what?”
    “Like you’re lost in a dream.”
    “You must have that effect on me.” I pushed up on my tip toes to give him a peck.
    “None of that now,” he warned. “I’m trying to be on my best behavior.”
    I widened my eyes in feigned innocence, but I couldn’t resist tempting him further by dropping my free hand to squeeze his ass. 
    “I’m warning you,” he said in a low voice, “that tile looks rather uncomfortable.”
    Now I was the one to shift uncomfortably at the thought. I’d be thrilled to be naked on that tile, but that wasn’t going to happen. Liam was showing more restraint than our ill-fated attempt to stay away from each other when we first began dating. 
    I swallowed hard, forcing thoughts of Liam and his jeans out of my mind. “So what do I do?”
    “Can you make the crusts?” His tone was clipped as though he, too, was struggling to stay focused on the stupid