Sugarlips (Beefcakes Book 2) by Katana Collins (best love novels of all time TXT) 📗

air and guided him toward the TV room. Only, he didn’t follow me. His gaze was locked onto the plate of cookies I had made last night for practice. Even though it was my night off, I wanted to try to bake them all on my own without Liam’s help.

“And… you bake.” Again, with the incredulous tone. I should be insulted.

“Well, yeah. You know I own a food truck, right?”

He paused and ran his hand through his neatly combed hair. “Yeah. I guess I just thought you were… I don’t know… less hands on.”

“Well, let me show you how hands on I’ve been lately.” Especially when it came to his damn chair. He finally followed me into the TV room, where his chair still sat right where he’d left it two and a half months ago.

God, I was going to enjoy this. A blanket draped over the damage, and with an inward smile, I tugged it free, revealing the stabbed and broken leather and fluff that was spilling out like guts.

“What the—goddammit, Chloe!” Dan cried. “This chair was expensive.”

“I know.” I said simply. “But so was our wedding and I’m not really getting a refund on that.”

“So you took it out on my chair?” He gaped at the wreckage, jaw slack, and I braced myself for the wrath of Dan; the explosive yelling and the expletives from his sailor mouth that I knew would come.

Oh, he may look like a prep-student, goody-two-shoes, but that man had a temper and a mouth on him.

But instead of yelling, his scowl slipped into a smile. Then a chuckle. Then the chuckle developed into laughter that shook his shoulders as he lifted his hand to his eyes and rubbed at the weary lines.

Taken aback, I didn’t know what to do. The way he laughed with wild abandon was bizarrely incongruous with his normally rigid demeanor.

But that was the thing about laughter… it was contagious. And soon, I was laughing right along with him, too.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he boomed, placing his hands on his hips, hinging at the waist. “You castrated my La-Z-Boy!”

“Better than castrating what I wanted to, wouldn’t you say?” I flicked a glance at Dan’s crotch and he laughed harder, taking a playful step back.

“Okay, okay, take the chair, Chloe.”

Eventually, our laughter subsided and Dan sighed, his shoulders and chest deflating. A bit of morning light caught the side of his face and I saw a semblance of what looked like stubble… which on Dan was utterly unheard of.

“What’s this on your face?” I teased, poking at his jaw. “Are you heading into the office unshaved?”

He grinned sheepishly and scrubbed his palm across his jaw. “Yeah. This morning was… hectic.”

Trouble in paradise, maybe? He seemed tired. Run down. Which was pretty typical for Dan. He was usually stressed and exhausted when he was around me… which I thought was just the stress of work and wedding planning. But after I found out about his affair, I’d realized, it wasn’t that he was just stressed. It was that another woman was getting the fun Dan. The playful guy who would drink wine and go out to nice dinners. Another woman was getting the Dan I had fallen for once upon a time.

Maybe he was the kind of man who could never be happy with one woman. Maybe he could never find joy and happiness amongst the stress of daily life and relationships… and affairs were his escape.

Maybe, maybe, maybe. Dan’s maybes were no longer any of my concern… and holy hell, that was liberating.

His brown eyes dulled and I saw as the joy faded from his laughter with a final sigh. “You were always fun, Coco. We never lacked for laughs.”

A thick coating clogged my throat at hearing him use his nickname for me, and my heart sputtered. I hated that nickname. It was the sort of nickname that ladies named Muffy at the tennis club gave you. I hadn’t heard “Coco” used in reference to me in over two months and it was like someone grabbing at stitches that were almost healed and giving them a good, hard yank.

“Please don’t call me that,” I whispered.

He rubbed his palm across his forehead. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

“What’s going on?” Liam’s booming voice from the bottom of the stairs caused me to jump.

He was shirtless, wearing only jeans with a red t-shirt slung over his shoulder as he walked with swift steps, full of virility and purpose, across the open floor plan to the living room where Dan and I stood.

The muscles of his broad, tanned chest peppered with crisp, brown hair tensed and rippled with each step. His mop of damp hair dripped over the rich outlines of his shoulders and my eyes followed a droplet of water as it rolled down his broad arms to where his fists were clenched at his sides.

“Dan came to pick up his chair—”

But I didn’t get to finish the sentence. Before I knew it, Liam’s lips were on me, claiming mine. His hands scooped up my back and into my hair, grasping me.

My squeal of surprise melted as my fingers found his shoulders, digging in and as he released me, I panted, unable to catch my breath.

Liam gave me a cocky smile, before spinning to face Dan, keeping his hands on my waist. His statement rang loud and clear—I was his. “The chair, huh?” Liam asked.

“That’s right.” To Dan’s credit, he didn’t cower away; he didn’t blush or run. He stood strong, looking at us with quiet resolve and maybe a little jealousy. “I’m only here for the chair.”

“Sure, you are.” Liam’s smile was unlike anything I’d ever seen from him. It was menacing; a threat. “Why don’t I help you out with it?”

“You know…” Dan said. “It’s weird you kept it like this in here for this long, Coco.”

Oh, shit. Now my face was flushing red. Liam’s grip on my hip tightened.

“I think I wanted to see your face when you realized