Envy: A Second Chance Romance (Deadly Sin Series Book 2) Read online

  A knock vibrated through the door.

  "Yes?" I yelled through the running water and steam.

  "Are you gonna be ready soon?"

  My shoulders slumped. "Yeah, just one sec," I mumbled under my breath.

  I shut off the shower, dried off, then slipped on my clothes. Slowly, I wiped the fog from the mirror, almost afraid to see the mess Liam was going to have to look at for the rest of the day.

  I leaned in to inspect the bags under my eyes, and my stray eyebrows that hadn't been plucked in days.

  Shit!

  He knocked again.

  My face whipped toward the door. "What?"

  He cleared his throat. "Umm—I need to shower, too," he said in a low tone.

  Overwhelmed, I threw my hair into a wet, messy bun before pulling the door open. And there he was—just standing there—looking luscious in a pair of loose-fitting gray sweat pants and no shirt. His ripped muscles flexed as he waited for me to step out of the way.

  I was in awe, and I could've stood there for hours just taking him in, but the awkwardness began to creep in, and I knew I was opening up a door that I had no business even standing near.

  Business, business.

  LIAM

  Goddam, she's beautiful.

  I wanted to scoop her up and throw her on her bed like a fucking animal, but that would open up a can of feelings I wasn't ready to deal with. The tension between us was palpable, and I was wrought with an overpowering urge to throw caution to the wind.

  How bad was it to talk about a few feelings anyway? I'd fucking went up against a mob boss for Christ's sake, and lived to tell about it. Certainly, I could handle her and a few tears.

  I stared into her eyes searching for an invitation to live out the scenario that was already playing in my head, but instead, she pulled away from my hard stare and set her gaze on the floor.

  Fuck, I guess that's a no.

  I'd be damned if I begged for another woman, so without a word, I brushed by her and shut the door behind me. What the hell kind of luck did I have? First Lexi chooses Christian over me, and now I'm stuck in a house with a woman I'm head over heels attracted to, and she was not even willing to give me the time of day.

  Fucking karma.

  THERAPY

  Thirty minutes later…

  I stepped out of the front door when I couldn't find her inside. She was lying on the hood of her truck—sunbathing—or sleeping.

  "Are you a hippie or something?" I called out from the door.

  She sat up and took her aviator sunglasses off. "Why do you ask that?"

  "I've just never seen anyone lay on top of their hood like that."

  "Except for hippies?"

  "No, I just assume that's how hippies sunbathe."

  She hopped off the hood, letting her boots kick up a plume of dust. "Well, that's always been your problem hasn't it?"

  "What has?" I asked, passing her and her old truck to get to my car.

  "Assuming," she replied in a tight voice.

  I shook my head as I unlocked my door. "And you know what your problem is?"

  "What?" she asked, slapping the dust from her legs.

  "You're a fucking man-hater."

  She chuckled. "Oh, no darlin'. I'm not a man-hater—just a Liam hater."

  "Join the club."

  She lightly slapped my arm as she passed. "I started the club."

  "Sassy ass."

  She winked as she opened the passenger door to my car. I took a deep breath to prepare myself for the rest of the day, which I knew she wasn't going to make easy. She was hell bent on making me pay for leaving her all those years ago, and I can't say that I blame her. I was still a little salty over Lexi, and that'd only been a year before.

  Sliding into the passenger seat, I got a little hard catching a glimpse of the sun glinting off the lotion on her smooth legs. Following the flattering light up her thigh, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of panties she had on. I was like a fucking teenager with this woman, and it irked me to no end.

  "Fuck." The frustration slipped out of my mouth before I could even think.

  "What?"

  I tore away from the entrancing sight of her legs and stared out the windshield. "Nothing. It's nothing. I—uh—forgot my wallet."

  "Well?"

  "Well, what?"

  "Well, are you gonna go get it?"

  My brain fogged and I couldn't come up with anything plausible to say, so I got out of the car and headed back to the house, pretending to grab something that was already in my back pocket.

  I walked into the house, counted to twenty, then walked back out wanting to kick myself. I was a grown ass man, and I was letting her reduce me to a bumbling idiot.

  Sliding back into the car, I couldn't help but notice the ear to ear grin she wore.

  "What?"

  "Did you find your wallet?"

  "Yeah, why?"

  "Where was it?"

  "On the couch."

  She laughed. "Why are you lying?"

  Her laugh made me laugh. "What do you mean?"

  "Why don't you just admit you were looking at my legs?"

  "I was not."

  "I saw your wallet in your back pocket when you walked away."

  "You did not."

  "Kinda hard to miss a wallet in those jeans of yours."

  "So you were looking at my ass while I was walking away."

  She blushed as she looked away from me toward the passenger window. "Just drive."

  I knew I'd caught her off-guard, and her response put a smile on my face. "Whatever you say, Kells."

  She glanced back at me. "I told you—"

  "I don't care what you told me. If I wanna call you Kells, then you're just gonna have to learn to like it. I know I do."

  Her brows furrowed, but she didn't say anything. I waited for a few seconds, and when it was clear she didn't have a smart reply, I threw the car into reverse and stepped on the gas.

  The banter between us could've been misconstrued as sexual tension, and I had to admit I was the first one in line getting my wires crossed. It was a short, silent trip to the local lumber store, made even more awkward when she got out of the car and headed in without even waiting for me.

  Maybe I'd gone too far by calling her Kells? Fuck it.

  KELLEY

  I didn't want to be in the same car with him. Fuck, I didn't even want to be in the same building with him. He made me feel like a sick school girl all over again. I wanted to hate him and make him miserable for the next two weeks, but everything about him called to me—called to the secret place I'd always kept under lock and key—the secret place I'd hidden my love for him.

  Gripping onto my purse, I passed through the double, glass, sliding doors into a massive warehouse containing every bobble and tool needed to create a house from scratch. Where the hell was I supposed to start? Wood? Screws? Piping? What the hell was I saying? I wouldn't even know what I needed even if I found those aisles.

  "Do you need help ma'am?" a squeaky voice echoed from behind me.

  I turned to see a young, acne-ridden teenager standing precariously too close for my liking.

  "Uh, yeah. Could you tell me—"

  "No, she doesn't need any help, thank you, though," Liam said, towering behind the young man.

  The kid's voice shot up another few decibels to a volume only audible to dogs. "I'm sorry, sir," he eked out before disappearing behind a shelving unit.

  "Why would you scare him like that?" I asked sternly.

  "Scare him? I just said you didn't need any help," he replied innocently.

  I shook my head. "C'mon now. You and I both know how jealous you are. You didn't have to add that extra gruff to your voice."

  "Jealous? I think you got me all wrong, sweetheart."

  "Stop calling me fucking pet names. My name is Kelley. Call me fuckin' Kelley."

  He took a step back, held his hands up in the air, then walked by me without another word.

>   Shut the fuck up. Stop being such a bitch to him.

  My head slumped between my shoulders as I turned to follow him with my tail between my legs. If I didn't know better, I'd think I was self-sabotaging. But self-sabotaging what? A possible relationship with him? Keeping the house?

  I hadn't had to endure this much self-reflection since I walked out on Jesse and had to spend my first sleepless night in my truck. I found him standing in front of cans of paint, looking at some color swatches.

  Deciding I was going to put my best foot forward, and leave the bitchy one in the aisle I was just in, I asked, "What color were you thinking?"

  "I dunno. What do you think is best?"

  I peered up into his eyes. "Really? You really wanna know what I think?"

  "Of course I do."

  "No one ever cares what I think. They see me and assume there's nothing deeper to me than a pair of legs."

  He winked. "Well, they are nice legs."

  I slapped his arm and smiled. "Stop it."

  "Oh, you like it."

  I paused. "Maybe," I whispered.

  "So a color?"

  "I see a lot of beige in the decorating magazines I read."

  "Decorating magazines?"

  "I like to read decorating magazines and imagine how I would decorate my house. If I had one, that is."

  He set down the swatches and crossed his arms, tilting his head to the side. "And how would you decorate your house?"

  I shrugged. "Oh, I dunno. It would be comfortable, though—lived in, you know? I hate when a house looks sterile and unhappy."

  He turned and picked up the swatches again.

  "Did I say something wrong?"

  He didn't reply.

  I laid my palm on his shoulder. "Hey," I said softly.

  "I don't wanna talk about it."

  "About what?"

  He threw the swatches back on the counter and shrugged my hand away before heading toward the exit. "Nothing. Just drop it."

  What the fuck?

  I followed quickly, wanting to know what the hell I'd said to piss him off this time. He walked out through the exit before I could reach him, and I hoped he wouldn't leave me stranded. It was a long walk back to the house, and I wasn't in the mood to bake under the hot California sun.

  I made it through the glass doors when a large hand gripped my left shoulder. Relieved, I laid my hand on his and spun around.

  "I'm glad you didn't leave me."

  "I would never leave you."

  The voice riddled me with fear. "Jesse, what are you doing here?"

  "I wanna talk to you."

  "How'd you even know I was here?"

  "Can I take you to lunch?"

  I swiped his hand off my shoulder. "No, take your fuckin' girlfriend to lunch."

  "You are my girlfriend, Kells."

  My stomach churned to think of ever being his girlfriend. "No, I'm—"

  "She said no, asshole," Liam's voice roared from behind me.

  Jesse's eyes widened in an instant, and before I could react, Liam inserted his massive body between Jesse and me. I backed away afraid of what was going to happen next.

  "Why do you keep getting in between me and my girl?" Jesse asked.

  "Sounds like she doesn't wanna be your girl anymore."

  "And what, you speak for her now? You're the new dick in town?"

  "It's none of your fuckin' business who I am. So why don't you take your ass back to whatever hole you crawled out of and stay there."

  "You can't tell me what to do," Jesse said, shoving Liam in the chest.

  Liam took a step back. "I'll give you one chance to walk away."

  "Or what?" Jesse asked snidely, shoving Liam again.

  Without another word or warning, Liam landed a punch across Jesse's jaw, knocking him to the ground. Liam stood over Jesse's writhing body with clenched fists.

  Jesse clutched onto his jaw, spitting out a mixture of blood and saliva onto the black concrete. I looked around for witnesses, worried they would call the cops on Liam. Reaching out, I pressed my palm against Liam's arm, hoping it would calm him enough to convince him to leave.

  "Liam," I said softly.

  His teeth gritted, staring intently at Jesse. "This motherfucker thinks I'm playing with him. Just like every other low-life asshole who thinks they can circumvent the system and people to get what they want."

  I didn't know where the extra rage was coming from, but that conversation was for a different day.

  "Liam, let's go," I urged.

  His breathing slowed and his fists loosened.

  "Let's go," I begged one last time, staring down at Jesse.

  He took a step back then turned, laying his arm over my shoulders as he whisked me back to the car, leaving Jesse behind.

  "What the fuck did you see in that piece of shit, anyway?"

  "What can I say? I have shitty taste in men."

  He shook his head. "You just have to get your digs in where you can, huh?"

  "What? No. I didn't mean—"

  Before I could finish, he cut me off. "We'll talk about this later," he said, opening the passenger door for me.

  I sat in the car. "What if I wanna talk about this now?"

  He looked down at me, then slammed the door. I suppose it wasn't the best time to sass him, but I couldn't help it. It was like second nature at that point. He hopped in the driver seat and turned on the car, screeching out of the parking lot without a second glance in my direction.

  Why the fuck did Jesse have to show up?

  In a flash, we were back at Uncle Henry's and not one word was uttered the entire trip. He stepped out of the car and slammed the door, sending chills down my spine. I was paralyzed in my seat—unable to will myself to move.

  Halfway down the driveway he stopped and turned, probably realizing I hadn't gotten out. He walked toward me, and the hairs on the back of my neck began to stand on end.

  I gripped my purse tightly, trying to quell the anxiety brewing in my stomach. My knuckles were beginning to turn white from all the pressure I was exerting on the worn, brown leather.

  Pulling the door opened, he asked, "Are you coming?"

  I shook my head.

  "Why not?"

  I twiddled my thumbs. "Answer me first."

  "Why do you wanna play games?"

  I didn't reply.

  "Fine, answer what?"

  "Why did you get upset when I was talking about how I wanted to decorate my house?"

  "Fuck. I don't wanna talk about this shit. This is supposed to be a business transaction, and it's turning into a therapy session."

  "Then don't," I blurted out. "Let's just keep this shit all business, like you want."

  "Not just me. I'm pretty sure you feel the same way."

  "Of course I do!" I retorted.

  "Then what the fuck's the problem? If this shit ain't nothing to you, then get out of the car."

  "No. Tell me, or I'll leave."

  He chuckled. "You're not gonna leave."

  I narrowed my eyes. "Try me," I warned.

  "Why do you need to know so much? All you should wanna know is how much your half is gonna be."

  "Oh, so now you think I'm a gold digger?"

  "Don't put words in my mouth."

  "Why not? It's not like you have anything to offer."

  He stepped back and set his gaze toward the street. I knew he didn't want to tell me the secret he was holding on to so tightly, but I wanted to know—no, I needed to know—even if it wasn't my place.

  "Just tell me, Liam."

  He lowered his head and slid his hands into his pockets. "I just—it's her."

  "Her who?"

  "My ex-wife. She was cold and sterile, and she decorated our house the way you described. I dunno, it just brought back memories that I don't care to relive. Stupid, huh?"

  I stepped out of the car and stood in front of his brokenness, feeling like shit for having been the reason he was feeling the way he did.
>
  Taking his hand, I rubbed the bruise beginning to form on his knuckles from punching Jesse. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

  He gripped his fingers around mine, and whispered, "How could you?"

  Butterflies began to flutter around my stomach, spurred by the sight of his hand holding mine. "I shouldn't have pried."

  "Can we try to not hate each other for the next two weeks?"

  I glanced up and peered into his eyes. "Hate you? I don't hate you."

  "Could've fooled me."

  "I don't hate you, Liam."

  "Then what?"

  "You don't really expect me to answer that question do you?"

  "You asked me a question I didn't wanna answer."

  Slowly, I pulled my hand away. "It's not the same thing."

  He countered by holding on even tighter. "You don't need to answer now, but I do want an answer." Pulling me aside, he shut the car door then silently led me to the house.

  I didn't oppose him or give him shit for trying to lead me. His dominance was subdued, and I loved it.

  LIAM

  I walked her into the house and shut the door to the outside world behind us. It was just me and her for the next couple weeks and we needed to stop bickering and come together if we were going to whip the house into shape. After that, we could go our separate ways and take all our secrets with us.

  "Do you want me to order pizza? Maybe we can just clean today, and leave the big stuff for tomorrow?" I asked, hoping it would overshadow the awkwardness of the last conversation.

  She peered down. "You'd probably have to let go of my hand to do any of that."

  I smiled. "Not to order the pizza, and the rest—well—"

  "Stop flirting with me, Liam. You're gonna make a girl think things."

  "What if I want a girl to think things?"

  She pulled away and headed toward the kitchen.

  "Where are you going?"

  "I have to wash some dishes so we can eat, right?"

  I nodded in defeat. "Pizza, right." My usual flirtations were barely making a dent in her tough exterior, but it was probably for the best.