Sugarlips (Beefcakes Book 2) by Katana Collins (latest books to read TXT) 📕

if you were surrounded by siblings who demanded the spotlight, eventually, it just got easier to stop fighting for your turn. Instead, you shifted backstage and took on other tasks that didn’t demand attention. I’d watched my sister do the exact same thing. She could have run for city council herself, but instead, she chose to work as the town manager, a thankless position that didn’t put her in the direct crossfire. And she could hide behind our father, the mayor.

I didn’t hear Liam approach me from behind, but he curved his arm around me and there in his hand was a steaming hot mug of coffee. “A fresh cup,” he whispered. Even though he hadn’t touched me, goosebumps rose on my body, racing down to the tips of my fingers.

I turned to find him standing close to me… shirtless. His hair was still wet with beads of moisture clinging to the dark ends and dripping down onto his bare, muscled shoulders. My mouth went completely dry as my eyes skimmed the sinewy range of peaks and valleys that dipped over his torso.

Pinched in the fingers of his other hand, he held up two hangers draped with a blue shirt and gray one. Without a word, I tapped my index finger to the blue shirt. That’s how close we had become; we could communicate without even talking.

His lips tipped into a knowing smirk—I’d been caught staring at his body. But my desire for him wasn’t a secret. And it didn’t change a thing.

I pulled the mug closer to my mouth, staring at him from over the lip as he tossed the gray shirt aside and tugged the blue one on.

“So,” he said. “For this television spot today, are we still pretending to be a couple?”

I sputtered, thankful I hadn’t yet taken a sip of the coffee. “What?”

“Well, the last few interviews we’ve done, we’ve perpetuated those rumors because it was good for business.”

“Right. Right.” Shit. I hadn’t thought about that.

“It might look weird if we suddenly stopped pretending to be together, you know?”

Dammit. He was right. Part of the appeal of our food truck was the “love story” about the owners. It felt a bit more like a punch in the gut now, though. Frankly, most of our close friends in Maple Grove knew the truth. But if we didn’t pretend to be a couple, the story would become about our breakup. Not about the truck or Liam’s awesome food.

With a slow inhale, I nodded, trying to seem as unaffected and casual about this as he was. “Yeah, you’re right. We need to continue on as a couple.” His smile twitched higher. “Pretending to be a couple,” I quickly clarified, inwardly giving my forehead a smack.

“Good. Then… we’re on the same page.”

Based on his cocky smirk, I highly doubted that.

Wrapping my lips around the ceramic edge, I sipped the coffee steaming from my mug, and it reminded me of Liam’s kisses; rich, deep, and smooth… with a hint of nutmeg.

Nutmeg. Damn him.

I narrowed my gaze, scowling playfully. “Don’t think I can’t taste the nutmeg in here.”

“Admit it,” he grinned and the sight caused my heart to lurch in my chest. “It’s good.”

I shook my head. But secretly, ever since our night together at the bakery, the flavor was really growing on me.

Maybe Liam was right after all… it was an acquired taste.

27 Liam

Television was weird. Or rather, the filming of it was. We sat on a soundstage, drinking coffee and pretending it was nine in the morning rather than four in the afternoon. The two hosts seemed nice enough. Big swooping hair that flopped across a Botox-smooth forehead; rouged cheeks and stained, swollen lips… and that was just Bruce. Jill was even more painted and plastic.

All those months watching Neil on the reality show, none of it really sunk in until now as the makeup artist blotted my face with some giant brush and white powder.

I snorted despite myself with a shake of my head. To think I’d actually been jealous of him back at the start of things for being in the spotlight. Stupidest thing ever. I hated the spotlight. It was hot, sweaty, and made my skin itch. Case in point, I couldn’t sit still here in this lounge chair.

But, I got to pretend to be Chloe’s boyfriend. If only for an hour. That made this all worthwhile.

“Did they bring their whole set with them?” I asked no one in particular as I looked around. We were sitting in leather armchairs atop a linoleum roll out floor that was printed to look like hardwood. It was a pretty good knock off, too. I bet no one watching could tell the difference.

“Basically,” the makeup artist said. “We made sure the set was easily replicable for when we’re on location.”

“And we love segments like this.” Bruce grinned at me, holding up a Bruce & Jill coffee mug in his meaty, manicured hand. A square paper napkin was tucked into his shirt and I wasn’t sure if it was to protect the collar from the coffee he drank or from the coat of makeup that spread all the way down his neck.

“You do?” Chloe asked from beside me, wrapping her lips around a straw and taking a sip of iced coffee.

“God, yeah,” Bruce laughed. “A segment that involves baked goods and we can prerecord?”

From beside him, Jill snorted and rolled her eyes. “He’s a happy camper so long as he doesn’t have to wake up at four in the morning.”

Chloe and I shared a smile and she shot me a wink with her lips still wrapped around her straw.

Those fucking lips. If someone had pulled aside sixteen-year-old Liam and told him that someday as an adult he’d get another shot at those lips, I never would have believed them in a million years. There was no way someone as perfect as Chloe would want someone like me.

But she did.

She just couldn’t admit she did for