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Vow of Retribution (Vow Series Book 1) by Emma Renshaw (19)

20

LIAM

“Mr. Adler?” comes through the speaker on my desk phone. I roll my eyes. I’ve been asking Rachel, my new assistant, to call me Liam all day. I don’t like to be referred to as Mr. Adler. My dad doesn’t even like to be called Mr. Adler. Each time I request this of Rachel, she gives me a patient smile and continues to call me whatever she damn well pleases.

“Yes, Rachel?” I say into the intercom.

“You have a delivery.”

“Bring it in.”

Rachel softly knocks on my office door before she enters, holding a white box with a blue bow. She sets the package on my desk and turns to leave. Right before she walks out the door, she looks over her shoulder to say, “If you want to share, I’ll be out here.”

I’m about to ask what I would share, but the door latches before I have the chance. I look down at the box. There’s a folded card tucked under the blue ribbon.

Liam,

I’m still not thinking about you.

Congrats on your first day.

– Savannah

I burst into laughter after I read it.

She’s thinking about me as much as I’m thinking about her, I know she is. My mind is consumed with thoughts of her. I will relentlessly pursue her until she agrees to be mine. I harden when I think about what we did last night, but I know that it can’t happen again until she is ready. I don’t regret being with her, but I think I should’ve played it smart and waited. My father taught me how to perfect a poker face when I was young. We sat across from each other playing cards or chess. His intense stare would drive me to make a mistake. Patience. Patience is the key to most things in life.

I open the box and moan. The most delectable smell wafts from the box. Dozens of warm cookies are piled inside. I lift each layer, taking a peek at the flavors. Chocolate chip, M&M, peanut butter, snickerdoodle. Jesus Christ. This smells heavenly. I take my favorite cookie, a snickerdoodle, from the package. Taking a huge bite, I collapse back into my chair, moaning. This is the best goddamn cookie I ever had. Of course, it’s even better knowing it came from Savannah.

Rachel’s parting words make more sense now. I hold my finger over the intercom but hesitate pressing the button. I know it would be the nice thing to do, to share. But, damn, my girl gave me these cookies. They’re my cookies. There are dozens in the box. I could eat them all myself, probably in one sitting if I continue to shovel them in like a caveman.

I grab my phone to text Savannah.

Liam: Oh, gorgeous girl, now you’ve done it.

Savannah: Done what exactly?

Liam: Sealed your fate.

Savannah: What fate is that?

Liam: You’re mine. You and these cookies are mine.

Savannah: You’re kind of a barbarian.

Liam: I am when it comes to you and cookies. You’ll learn to like it.

Liam: I can feel you rolling your eyes all the way over here.

Savannah: I really was rolling my eyes. I got you a lot of cookies so you could be the cute new kid sharing your treats.

Liam: Nope, not sharing. My assistant basically asked for one before I knew what they were. I considered giving her one but decided against it.

Savannah: Give her one, you barbarian!

Liam: Mine.

Savannah: Share.

Liam: Fine, but only because I got you to admit you’re thinking about me.

Savannah: Did you not get the note?

Liam: Oh, I got the note. I can read between the lines.

Savannah: Rolling my eyes again. Thinking about anything, but you.

Savannah: Witch boss is on the hunt for her next victim, got to get back to work.

Liam: Thank you for the cookies, gorgeous girl. ;)

Savannah: Dirty barbarian. I know you’re not talking about the cookies sitting at your desk.

A laugh booms in my chest again. This girl.

I press my finger to the intercom. “Rachel. Come get a cookie.”

Rachel comes running into my office. How she runs in those shoes is a mystery.

She clasps her hands in front of her face as if she’s praying. “Really?” she asks. “These are my favorite cookies.”

“Take a couple,” I reluctantly tell her. I turn the box to face her. “Just not the snickerdoodles!” I practically yell when her hand reaches the box.

She laughs. “I’ll leave the snickerdoodles alone,” she agrees. She grabs a chocolate chip and an M&M. She walks out of the office, telling me to let her know if I need anything else. I nod my thanks before turning back to my computer.

* * *

After work, I drive straight over to my parents’ house for a family dinner. My parents always drilled into us that family meals are important. There was always one day a week that dinner could not be missed under any circumstances. The time my father had his appendix removed, my mom hosted family dinner in his hospital room. The day the dinner falls on has changed over the years—my parents worked around our school and sports schedules. For the past couple of years in my absence, the dinner has been on Monday nights. My mom insists it starts the week off right to start it with your family.

I pull into the driveway of the home where my sister and I grew up. A traditional colonial house on top of a hill. It’s a white two-story with black shutters. A large front porch with stately columns hold up the game room balcony on the second floor. Pink and white flowers are in the flowerbeds in front of the porch. Four black rocking chairs are nestled on one side of the porch, while the other side has a porch swing. When I was younger, I often found my parents curled together on that swing, lost in their own little world. Even after all these years, they’re madly in love and happier when they’re together. My parents’ cars and my brother-in-law’s car are in the driveway; I’m the last to arrive.

I walk into the house of familiar smells—lemons and fresh laundry. I breathe in deeply, relishing everything I missed when I lived in my sterile brick and steel loft in Chicago. I toss my keys in the bowl on the entryway table. Frames are lined on either side of the bowl, telling the story of our lives. I walk deeper into the house, looking for my family. I spot my parents in the kitchen first. My mom is at the stove stirring a large pot, my dad behind her hugging her around the waist with his head resting on top of her head. I hear them murmuring to each other. They haven’t heard me come in, so I back out slowly to give them their privacy.

In the living room, I find Tanner riding my brother-in-law Josh like a bull. His little fist is raised in the air and the other one clutches the collar of Josh’s shirt. He’s yelling, “Yeehaw!” Olivia is on the couch with her feet curled behind her, watching them with a smile on her face and recording them on her phone.

“Are you a cowboy now, Tan?”

Tanner whips his head around to me. “Unca Liam!” He swings his leg around to get off, but clocks his dad in the head. Tanner either doesn’t notice or care that he just kicked his dad in the head as he races toward me. I crouch down to my knees with my arms open, ready to catch the pipsqueak. He launches himself full-force into my arms. I hug him tightly to my chest, laughing. I look over his shoulder at Josh, who is rubbing his head.

“Guess I’m going to be chopped liver now you’re here,” Josh says. “Maybe the next kid will like me better.”

“I can give you a few tips on how to be cooler,” I stand up with Tanner in my arms.

Josh flicks me off behind Tanner’s back. I chuckle before setting Tanner down. I bring Josh into a backslapping hug. We give each other a lot of shit, but I couldn’t pick a better man for my sister. He’s damn lucky to have her, and better yet—he knows it.

I lean down to give Olivia a squeeze when Tanner yells, “Don’t! You’ll crush my little brudder!”

“That’s my little man,” Josh says proudly. See, damn good man.

Olivia sighs, rubbing her still-flat belly. “He’s already very protective over this little peanut. I keep telling him that he might be a sister.”

“Sisters are gross! I want a brudder!”

Instead of squeezing Olivia, I give her a kiss on her head and tell Tanner, “Sisters can be pretty cool.”

“Not as cool as brudders,” he replies, shrugging like there’s nothing he can do about it.

I sit down on the chair opposite the couch Olivia and Josh are sitting on. “How’re you feeling, sis?”

“I’m okay. A bit nauseous most the time, but overall, it’s an easier pregnancy than with Tanner.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Josh replies. “She was very needy last time.”

Olivia lightly smacks her hand across his chest.

“I’m just kidding, babe. I’m here to help. I made every midnight run for her cravings with a smile on my face and I’ll do the same this time.” He smiles down at her like she is the most treasured gift in the world.

I only saw Olivia twice during her last pregnancy. I’m happy I’ll be here from the start with this little nugget. I’ve never thought about settling down, but I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t picture Tanner chasing after two toddlers, one of them with emerald green eyes strikingly similar to Savannah’s.

My mom and dad walk into the living room with their arms wrapped around each other.

“Liam, we didn’t know you were here.”

I stand up, giving them each a hug. “I wanted to say hi to my favorite little dude first.”

Tanner pipes in, “That’s me, Gram! I’m everyone’s favorite.”

My dad sits on the loveseat, pulling my mom down on top of him. “Dinner will be ready soon. Just needs to simmer for a few minutes.”

We nod in acknowledgment. We fall into an easy conversation. I look at each couple, happily touching each other in some way, while still connecting with the rest of us. I wonder if Savannah would fit in with my family. I picture her sitting here with me in this chair. I suddenly notice the room has fallen silent. I tear my gaze from the fireplace and back to my family. They’re all looking at me.

I raise my eyebrow at my sister, who looks smug. I know that look. I saw that look too many times growing up. She’s about to embarrass me and pull information from me in a way that only she can. She’s the master of interrogation.

“Thinking about a girl, Liam?”

I glare at her.

“That’s a yes,” she laughs, Josh laughing with her like she’s the cutest thing in the world.

“Livie,” I warn.

“Ooooh! I’m right, aren’t I? Who is she? Do I know her?”

“Olivia. Leave your brother alone.” My mom turns to my dad and mutters, “I can’t believe I still have to scold them.”

“We can run away to Aruba, leave these poor bastards behind, let them fight it out, see who survives,” my dad says in a fake whisper.

My mother laughs. Olivia and I just roll our eyes. They wouldn’t leave us. They have been joking about running away together and leaving us behind for most of our lives, especially when we would fight or argue, but they would never leave us. If Olivia and Josh had moved to Chicago, my parents would have been right behind them, happy to have the family back together.

Olivia looks at me expectantly. I sigh. She smiles, knowing she won. I’m not going to give her a lot, but I know that if I don’t give her something, she will continue to call me out tonight until I answer. She’d probably show up at my job. She’s relentless. “I had a date.”

My mother breaks her eyes away from my father to look at me. “You’ve barely been back for two weeks. How can you already have had a date?”

“I know, I can’t believe someone would go out with his ugly mug either, Katie,” Josh laughs.

Olivia holds up her hands in front of her. “Wait, if this is a date,” she says with quotations around the word date, “then I don’t want to know about it.” She finishes with a shiver.

“Like I’d tell my sister about that,” I say, rolling my eyes. “It was a real date.”

“What’s her name? Where does she work? Where did you take her?” Olivia starts rambling off questions.

“Her name is Savannah. That’s all I’m telling you.” I cross my arms over my chest.

“When can I meet her?”

“When can we meet her?” my mom corrects, looking more interested. She has been hounding me about finding someone since I graduated college. She told me to find a nice girl and bring her home to Texas. She was constantly disappointed when I told her I wasn’t interested in dating or settling down. I can see her dreaming now, her grandchildren running through the yard.

I give her a stern look, even though I’ve had similar thoughts pass through my head since I met Savannah. “Stop picturing grandkids. It’s been two dates. She’s ... she’s a little gun-shy. There are no wedding bells and crying babies in our near future.”

“Two dates?” Olivia squeals.

“Why is she gun-shy?” my mom asks, looking concerned in a way only a mother can. This is something I adore about my mother. She is motherly to almost everyone she meets. She takes people under her wing and brings them into our family, accepting and loving them.

“Yes, two dates. I’m not sure and even if I did know, I’m willing to bet it isn’t my story to tell.”

“Okay, that’s enough, you two,” my father chimes in. “Leave Liam be. When he’s ready, if he’s ready to bring this girl, Savannah, around, he will.”

Both my mother and sister close their mouths, but I can still see questions swimming behind their eyes.

“I’m sure dinner is ready.” My mother stands and waves us into the kitchen. “Come on.”

We follow her, our first family dinner since I’ve been back home. Josh comes up next to me and claps me on the shoulder. He squeezes it once. “I can already tell you’re fucked, brother.” He laughs and follows his wife, leaving me to walk into the dining room alone.

We sit at the table and start a family dinner filled with laughter.

It’s damn good to be home.