“Am I pushing you outside your comfort zone?”

“Yes.”

He chuckled.

“Liam.”

“No pressure,” he told her. “We have Sunday dinners almost every week. The invitation is open. This weekend, next weekend.”

She pushed off her sofa and walked into her open kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine. “Meeting your family implies . . .”

“Implies what?”

“I don’t know, but it implies something. I’m pretty sure I’m not ready for that something.”

He was laughing now. “You think about it.”

She rummaged through a drawer, looking for a wine opener.

“I will.” She should just say no.

“I have to go over some invoices and bury myself in paperwork for a couple hours.”

“Aha!” She found it.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. Fine. Go. I have some busy work to do myself.” Like opening the bottle of wine.

“Avery?”

“Yeah?” She pulled the foil off the bottle and tossed it aside.

“I miss you already.”

Her fingers stopped playing with the bottle as she sank into his words. “I saw you yesterday.”

“That doesn’t stop me from missing you today.”

Had anyone ever told her they missed her? Other than her girlfriends? Sure, the occasional guy on rotation would offer a Miss ya, babe. Need ya, babe. But what they missed was the horizontal time. Not one of them suggested they stick around once she called it off.

She poked the wine opener into the cork. “You haven’t been gone long enough for me to miss you,” she told him.

“Uh-huh.”

“And don’t call me a liar. That’s rude.” He’d been implying she was a liar since they first met. Today she wanted to cut him off before he had a chance. Even if most of the time he’d been right about the white lies that had passed her lips.

“I didn’t say a thing.”

The cork gave way. “Good.” The wine went in the glass and she lifted it to her lips. “I’ll see you on Friday, right?”

“I’ll be there.”

She sipped the wine, welcomed the flavor on her tongue. “Good.”

“Good night, Avery.”

“Good night.”

For several seconds she looked at the dark screen on her phone. What the hell was happening in her life? She dropped her phone on the counter, grabbed the bottle by the neck, and walked over to her couch. After switching on her TV, she vowed to stay awake long enough, or drink half the bottle, so she wouldn’t toss and turn, thinking about him.

Chapter Eighteen

Avery arrived at Brenda’s studio early, determined to get some extra time on the mat. All the time off made her feel weak and rusty.

She dropped her bag by the door and started to call out to Brenda when Avery realized she was talking on the phone.

“I told you I have a client on Friday night. We have to meet after nine.”

Avery’s footsteps stopped. Even as she listened in, she scorned herself for eavesdropping.

“I think about you, too,” Brenda said.

It had to be Brenda’s mystery guy. Not only was the woman saying romantic words Avery didn’t think Brenda could piece together, but she spoke them in a softer, gentler way.

“It’s only a few hours.”

Avery turned her head and forced herself not to listen.

Was that Brenda giggling?

Did Brenda giggle?

Avery paused again.

Stop listening.

Her shoes squeaked on the mat. The sound shot through the silent room.

“I’ve got to go.”

Oh, shit. Busted.

“Hey, Brenda.” Avery recovered quickly. “I’m early.”

Brenda poked her head out of her office. “Nice of you to join me.”

“I called.”

“Yes, you did. But did you work out while you were on vacation?”

Avery didn’t think drinking champagne and eating wedding cake constituted a workout.

“That’s what I thought. Fifty burpees, twenty-five squats, and three minutes of plank.”

At Avery’s thumbs-up, Brenda turned back into her office.

“Phew.” Danger averted.

Twenty-five burpees in, Liam waltzed into the room.

Same broad shoulders, slim hips, and sexy smile. So why did he look different?

“Hello, Avery.”

Just her name from his lips made her blush. Damn, what was she, sixteen?

“Hello, Liam.”

His sexy smile grew bigger.

Brenda cleared her throat.

“Hello, Brenda,” Liam said with a laugh.

“Three minutes of plank, and then I want one hundred push-ups from you. I need your arms tired for today’s lesson.”

Liam saluted the open door.

Avery went back to her burpees, counting them down. By the time she was on her squats, Liam had finished his plank and started the push-ups.

He really should do those without the shirt. Women everywhere would applaud, and what red-blooded American man didn’t want that?

“Are you staring?” he asked without looking up.

“I most certainly am.”

“Do you like the view?”

“Are you searching for a compliment?”

“No, no.”

Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight. “Liar.” It was sweet turning the tables on the man.

She struggled through the last minute of plank while he eased down the final count of push-ups.

“You two are awfully quiet today,” Brenda said as she left her office.

“That’s because I’m dying here.” And had nothing to do with the fact that if she said anything to Liam, it would be to demand he take off his shirt so she could at least see what he was denying her. Dreams of him had plagued her all week. If the man didn’t give in to her lust soon, she wasn’t going to make it.

“Speak for yourself,” Liam teased.

“Oh, don’t be cocky. I saw you slowing down on the last ten.”

“I have another twenty in me.”

“Let’s see them,” Brenda told him.

Avery pointed his way. “Backfired,” she said, laughing.

Liam didn’t pause. He pushed right into position and started counting backward from twenty. When he got to ten, Avery decided to make it harder. Without asking, she planted her butt on his back and crossed her legs.

“Playing dirty.”

“That’s how I roll, Holt.”

Even Brenda smirked. “Let’s see what you got,” she said.

Avery toppled a couple of times and then grabbed hold of his shoulder with one hand and his ass cheek with the other.

He kept going.

When he reached ten, she wasn’t sure who was more worked up.

She patted his butt, like she had the right, and jumped off his back.

“That was entertaining,” Brenda said. “Let’s get to work.”

Enough, enough, enough.

Their relationship had changed, somehow become intimate without intimacy. Liam wasn’t sure that was possible, but that was his explanation when his concentration went to zilch.

Brenda had Avery practicing getting out of bear hugs, knife to the throat, attacks from behind. Only Liam wasn’t feeling it. All he could sense was the way Avery’s skin felt against his, how her breathing made her chest rise and fall against his arm as he held her. He wasn’t completely geared up in protective padding as he had been in the past. So she stopped short of actually striking him but had to use her weight, strength, and speed to untangle from any hold he had on her. All her wiggling, kicking, and twisting had him sweating and his body rock hard.

Avery noticed.

Oh, she noticed and let her gaze drift down to his pelvis several times.

Her smirk only made it worse. Or better if they were alone and naked.

Only they weren’t.

“One more drill and we’re done for the day. Avery, I want you on your back.”

Like a puppet, she rolled onto the mat and smiled up at Liam.

“Liam, you’ve met at a bar, taken her home. Plan on going at it . . . but what she doesn’t know is your kink is strangling women.”

Liam looked at Brenda like she was nuts. “I don’t like this game.”

“It’s not a game. Avery tends to freeze when she’s on her back.”

Liam had noticed but never pointed it out.

Brenda knelt down. “I want you to sense the second his body language changes, get out of his hold and up on your feet. And you.” She pointed to him. “A blow to the groin will make you recoil but not disable you. You’ve been doing drugs, you naughty man. So you come back and try and take her down.”

She stood and took a few steps back. “Drills, Avery. Don’t hurt the man.”

A month ago, Liam would have laughed at the thought that she could. Now he knew better.

Avery crooked her finger in Liam’s direction and shifted her knees, giving him room to settle between her thighs.

Oh, yeah . . . that wasn’t helping his erection, which had subsided slightly during Brenda’s instructions.

“What’s the matter, Holt?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re enjoying this a little too much.”

Avery wiggled her hips. “You know it.”

Brenda huffed. “Stop playing. I don’t have all night.”