Mrs. Laurence’s eyes widened in surprise; she apparently hadn’t expected him to come bearing gifts.
One point to him.
She set the box on the counter, pushing back the metal hook that kept the box latched, and lifted the top. Inside sat three separate trays stacked on top of each other, each sectioning off sixteen different tins of spices. So forty-eight in total.
“They’re specialty spices from this shop in Nashville. They blend all of them and grow most of them. They have hundreds so I tried to get you a good assortment.”
Mrs. Laurence lifted one of the tins, popping the top and inhaling deep. She repeated the process a few times, exploring the different aromas. Liam totally got it. He’d spent hours in the little shop trying to figure out which ones to buy the first time he’d shopped there. And the second. And the third. Okay, every time.
He’d called the owners a week ago to put the box together, and they’d shipped it to him in California.
Mrs. Laurence put all of the tins back in the box before she ran her hands across the smooth top of the cherry-stained wood. Her fingers traced the embossed company logo branded into the wood before she looked up at Liam, a warmth in her eyes that definitely had not been there just moments before. “Thank you. This was very thoughtful.”
Okay, maybe five points to him.
“You’re welcome. They’re my favorite spices to cook with, so I thought you might enjoy them.”
She nodded, running her hand across the top again, almost reverently.
“And this is for you,” Liam said as he pulled out another box and handed it over to Paul.
“Well I’ll be. Two gifts.” Another twitch to Paul’s mouth that almost, almost, looked like a smile.
He pulled off the top of the box to reveal the parts of a handmade fly fishing rod that was—in Liam’s humble opinion—one of the best. “It’s a Flanagan. Harper said that you were a fisherman on your off time.”
“You fish, too?” Paul asked.
“Yes, and that’s the same one that my brother, father, and I use.”
“This is…impressive.” Paul looked back down at the rod in his hand, examining it further. “You bring yours?” He brought his gaze back up to Liam’s.
“Don’t leave home without it.”
“You and I are going to go fishing sometime. We can catch something for Delilah to use her fancy new spices on. That sound good to you?”
“Sounds perfect.”
And just like that Paul’s mouth split into a grin.
One parent down. One to go.
* * *
Harper was in a daze throughout all of dinner. How could she not be? She’d been shocked pretty much the second she and Liam had walked into her parents’ house.
Not only had the man brought gifts. But he’d gotten the most personal gifts of…well…ever.
The thing that really got to her? He’d known what to get from something she’d said months ago. When Liam had made her dinner in Nashville, she’d mentioned that her mother loved to cook and that her father fished.
And he’d remembered.
He’d freaking remembered.
Liam had won Paul over, something she’d noticed pretty quickly. She also knew it had more to do with how Liam was with her than from that fishing rod. Though the rod hadn’t hurt in Liam’s endeavors.
As for her mother, well, that was going to take a little bit more time. But he was making pretty good progress with her, considering it was only the first night.
They left just before eight thirty, laden with multiple Tupperware containers filled with roast beef, mashed potatoes, grilled zucchini, and apple pie. Luna lay in Liam’s lap during the five-minute ride to her house, him scratching her belly as she lay on her back entirely blissed out at his attention.
Harper pulled up in front of her apartment building and put her Cruiser into Park. Liam’s gaze focused on the building in front of them where about thirty little apartments were stacked three high and ten across on ten-foot-high pylons. The sun was setting over the beach that stretched out behind it.
“So this is home,” she said as a sudden wave of nerves overtook her. She knew what was going to happen when they went inside and she was both excited and maybe just a little bit scared. “It’s kind of small, but I wanted to live on the water and the options in my budget are somewhat limited.”
“I’m sure it’s perfect. Lead the way.”
Harper grabbed the food while Liam got his bags. Luna was on a retractable leash, and she walked over as far as it would stretch to a patch of grass next to the parking lot. She did her business before walking over to the stairs and waiting for Liam and Harper.
Liam followed behind Harper and Luna as they made their way up the three flights of stairs. The entire time all she was thinking about was the fact that he could probably see right up the skirt of her dress.
Good thing she was wearing sexy panties, because…well…obviously. He was probably going to be seeing them in a matter of minutes.
Oh, would you look at that her palms were sweating, so much so that she dropped her keys when they got to the door. After a good ten seconds of fumbling with them she managed to get them in the lock.
When they walked inside, Harper let Luna off the leash—who immediately headed for the back bedroom to most likely put herself to bed—before heading for the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Bags hit the ground and Harper was fully aware of Liam’s boots as they walked around the hardwood floors of her apartment, taking everything in.
The walls were a light green, soft enough to not overpower other things in the room while bringing in the tones from random accents like the painting above her TV and the floral pillows on her overstuffed gray couch.
Two bookshelves took up the corner in the right filled with books, random knickknacks, and picture frames. The shag rug on the floor was salmon—another color pulled from the painting and the pillows—and teal curtains hung from the window on the other side of the TV.
The only thing separating the living room from the kitchen was a bar. Two backless stools sat in front of it, and on the far right side a variety of mismatched and beyond varied wineglasses—that she hadn’t used in months—hung from little brackets attached to the cabinets above.
More light filled the rooms as Harper flipped a switch in the kitchen, heading for the refrigerator in the corner. Her kitchen was small with bright lemon yellow walls that she painted herself because she loved the way they popped with the black and white tiles that covered the counters.
It had taken her months to figure out the right feel to the kitchen. The perfect find? An antique cherry wood table, with four matching chairs, that sat in front of the white French doors. More teal curtains were in here, pulled to each side and tied back with a yellow sash that matched the walls in the kitchen. On the other side of the doors was a back deck that overlooked the water.
That was where she spent most of her evenings, her feet propped up on the railing as she watched the sunset. Small space or not, she’d made it her own…made it her home. And now Liam was in it.
He was here.
Harper pulled away from the refrigerator, closing it behind her as she headed for the living room. Liam was standing in the middle of the room and filling it in only the way that he could.
“I like it.” He nodded, still looking around. “It feels like you.”
“Yeah?” she asked as she leaned against the door frame, fiddling with the ring on her finger. Spinning it ’round and ’round.
“Yeah.”
“Well, that’s good. Because that’s your bed.” She let go of the ring as she pointed to the sofa. “In the spirit of appeasing my mother and all with separate sleeping arrangements.”
To be honest, Harper was beyond shocked that her mother hadn’t brought that subject up again before they’d left for the night. Didn’t matter that she’d embargoed certain topics from her mother earlier before picking Liam up from the airport. Another off-limit topic was marriage or discussion of the future. If Harper and Liam hadn’t discussed it yet, it wasn’t going to be brought up over dinner.