Chapter 9

I have a proposition for you,” said Liam without preamble.

When Liam had texted me a week after we’d returned from Las Vegas to ask that we meet in a neutral place, I hadn’t hesitated.

Now I wondered why I hadn’t hesitated. Apparently him giving me an amazing orgasm had fried my brain and made me forget he was a giant jerk-wad.

“A proposition,” I repeated. “Why do I not want to know what that means?”

His grin was too easy, his body language almost languid. Like he knew I’d agree before I’d said the magic yes word. It was annoying.

We’d decided to meet in a neutral place, a coffee shop in Ballard that currently had an array of customers, including a man with a blue macaw on his shoulder. No one batted an eye at the bird even when it squawked random words at other customers. Beans! Coffee! Llamas!

Last week in Ballard, I’d seen a guy wearing a cat in a front pack so random pets were pretty normal around here.

“I don’t need people knowing we got married when we were drunk in Vegas,