23. Jamison

Examining herself in the mirror, Jamison was ready to admit Evie knew what she was talking about. The right dress at the right moment could make all the difference.

The skintight velvet black piece with its sheer panel sides was the perfect revenge outfit. Smoothing her straightened hair, she settled a headband with glittery cat ears on her head.

"Meow."

Her bedroom door opened, and Annabeth sashayed into the room wearing a witch's costume. Well, wearing what she claimed to be a witch's costume. Spinning in the short, sleek gray dress for Jamison's approval, she held onto a pointy hat on her head as she twirled.

"Ta-da." Annabeth kicked a foot back in the air as she ended her grand entrance. "Like it?"

Jamison let out a low whistle, a little jealous of how well Annabeth's thigh-high suede boots matched the outfit.

"Love it," she replied, more than ready for a little escape. Selah had gone into full, let'stalk out your feelings mode. No, thank you. Lenora wanted to help her figure out how to handle Liam. Double no thanks. Her father had wisely kept his distance, but managed to continuously remind her that men did stupid things when protecting what they loved.

Ugh.

Not unexpectedly, Simone had taken to pretending that everything was normal, and since she was feeling better, back to bossing everyone around as usual.

Abe was the sole sane person left, and that was only because he was too busy ogling Haven's new houseguest.

"That woman has a gun, a booty, and a bad attitude," he'd whispered when they all told him to quit staring. "That's my future wife right there, and I will look all I want."

Beautiful, with gorgeous black ringlet hair and a toned physique, Isabel—please call me Izzy—Pe?a, seemed quite capable of handling herself. Cool, calm, and at Liam's side almost every second of the day, the woman was all business.

It was hard not to hate her on the spot.

"Oh, that's Bernie." The burner phone she was being forced to use buzzed with a text. "I told her we were going out."

Let me see.

Jamison snapped a selfie, being sure to show the sheer sides of the dress. I'm going to make him suffer.

Good.

Bernie Cohen might be the sweet, motherly type, but let her find a man using a woman in a way he shouldn't, and the inner lioness took over, ready to decimate and destroy. Even if that man was her own son. To say she was upset with Liam was an understatement, and her husband had been caught up in her fury. To make amends—for something he hadn't even done—Will set out to appease his wife by sending Jamison details on the investigation when no one else would.

Being kept in the dark was the worst part of this for her, and Liam's father knew it. It hurt. Not having Liam's trust hurt. He always divulged the details of whatever he was working on, bouncing ideas and thoughts off her. Izzy's arrival was salt in an already tender wound and seeing her replacement sliding so seamlessly into her spot had really taken Jamison on a mental nosedive.

She had tried to keep her mind occupied by coming up with a "shrimp strategy" for work, but in her overly pathetic state, she continued to creep around to gain information. Her father finally took pity on her when he caught her snooping for the millionth time.

"You're not aware of what's happening because it's for the best. Even those emails you're getting from Will are filtered," he'd said, which really had her temper flaring. "Some of what's in them is true, and some of it's just bullshit Liam wants Sinclair to have in case he's reading them."

Fuming, she'd gone upstairs to plan an outfit for the costume party. Screw the Mad Hatter. She was going to hit Liam right where it hurt. The shorts she had taken to wearing were already getting to him, and this dress would finish the job.

However, she would be careful not to draw his focus too much. This time he had at least informed her that she was going to be the bait tonight. Rowan planned to keep the feed open on Firewater's security system and allow Michael to track her through the cameras as he had done the other night. If she truly were his obsession, Liam didn't think he could resist, giving them another chance to catch him.

"How do you like my dress?" she asked Annabeth.

Annabeth joined her at the full-length mirror, positively bursting with excitement. This gathering in Firewater's shopping district and town square was nothing like the small soirees she held at the bookshop. The entire plaza would be filled with people. It was a big step, and it helped that it was being held outside, but there was still much to be concerned with.

"Liam is going to swallow his tongue when he sees you."

Turning to examine the panels, Jamison arched her back slightly to test the material. "I hope not. I plan on using it later."

"Oh, do you?"

"I do." The two words had her glancing at the open closet door. A sliver of candlelight white could be seen, the sight hitting her directly in the heart. "I really do."

"Well, Rowan and I will keep our distance."

Ah, the perfect opening.

"Those boots are to die for, and I can't wait to see Rowan's reaction. You look very fuckable, Ms. Howard, if you don't mind me saying."

Annabeth nibbled on her bottom lip. "He kissed me."

As fast as she could muster—which wasn't very fast at all—Jamison hustled over to close the bedroom door. The second it clicked shut, someone knocked.

"I cannot eavesdrop if the door is closed," Lenora huffed when it opened again. "You two have no consideration for others."

Jamison waved her in, and Selah's wife did a double take at their outfits. "You both are going to drive those men downstairs crazy. I love it."

"Okay, spill," Jamison ordered Annabeth, locking them in again. "Rowan kissed you?"

"I asked him to kiss me." Annabeth sighed and tossed her hat off. "And I want to have sex with him.

"Duh."

"Duh," Lenora echoed. "Rowan is probably used to women feeling that way when he's around."

"No, like," Annabeth fell back on the mattress, "I want him to annihilate me. I want him to give me so many orgasms that I won't remember my name. I want it to be rough, and insane, and without boundaries. I want to try things with him. Stuff I couldn't do with my ex because I was scared to ask."

"And you know Rowan won't shame you or think you're weird for asking," Jamison concluded. "I mean, he's already cool with your masturbation station."

Annabeth lifted her head to glare at her. "Stop calling it that."

"And the whole camera thing."

"Oh my God, stop." Annabeth hauled herself into a sitting position. "But even though I want those things, I don't know that I can let it happen."

Lenora patted Annabeth's thigh. "I get it. When your brother went after me, I wanted nothing to do with him. He was notorious for being a playboy, so I pushed him away."

"Selah being a playboy has always confused me," Jamison started to say, but her phone rang with Evie's number.

Placing the call on video, Jamison aimed the phone at Annabeth. "Annabeth is telling us how she wants Rowan to fuck her so hard she forgets her name."

Laying on her back in bed, Evie stuffed a handful of popcorn in her mouth. Samuel had forbidden her or the girls to leave the house, even to come to Haven, and the four of them had spent the last few days making the best of a bad situation together.

"That sounds fun." Evie turned her head to the side. "Can you do that?"

"I am not involved in this conversation." Samuel's voice came from off-screen. "And you know damn well I can do that, Evangeline."

Evie giggled. "Is amnesia by sex going to happen tonight?"

"It can't happen." Annabeth shook her head. "Never, ever."

"Why?" Samuel's face appeared, wedging in next to Evie's on the pillow. "He's serious about this."

Annabeth groaned, her face scrunching tight. "That's the problem. He wants to be with me as much as I want to be with him."

"I'm so confused," Samuel mumbled, shifting to look at his wife. "Please tell me you're confused."

"I am kind of confused," Evie absently rubbed the stubble on his cheek as she frowned at Annabeth through the phone. "Why are we not having sexy times with Rowan?"

Jamison rolled her eyes. Of course, they didn't get it. The old Samuel and Evie were ghosts. Forgotten and left in the past and replaced by these two well-adjusted lunatics. "Rowan represents forever, but Rowan also represents the possibility of getting hurt."

"He doesn't live here. His entire family lives in Texas." Annabeth ticked off each point with her fingers. "Rowan might want to be with me now, but after a while, he'll get bored and move on." She took a deep breath. "I know I'm not that strong and can't put myself through the heartbreak."

"You're so wrong." Samuel dropped some popcorn into his mouth. "Every week I get an email from him requesting a transfer here. Rowan is not the type to make decisions on a whim."

"Yeah, but then say he comes here and realizes how boring life is with me at Haven House and moves on. Or worse, stays because he feels obligated." Annabeth swiped up the witch's hat and jammed it on her head. "I'm fighting hard to one day be able to stand on my own. Yet, I know that day might never come, and if I'm trapped, I'm trapped, but I won't trap him with me. I won't become a burden."

"Did David make you feel that way?" Samuel asked.

It was a good question. Everyone waited while Annabeth thought it through, even though Jamison already knew the answer. The ex-boyfriend wasn't Rowan. Not even close. Rowan lived life to the fullest, every second of every day, and hanging around Haven House all the time would be a dramatic shift in his lifestyle.

Annabeth shook her head. "No, he never did."

Brows pinching together, Samuel looked even more confused. "Then why do you think that will happen with Rowan?"

Her brother might be a genius, but sometimes he could be pretty dense. "Because a small-town cop is not Rowan McIntyre," Jamison said. "While I agree she shouldn't be worried, I get why she's nervous."

"Rowan is larger than life. He's smart, and rich," Evie tried to explain. "He's seen and done things."

"And let's not forget what he looks like. He's got that black hair that's always kind of messy, but on purpose," Lenora piped up. "And those cheekbones. I would kill for that man's cheekbones. Combo all that with the piercing blue eyes and the whole I can make you scream my name for hours attitude, and you've got yourself a top-tiered kind of man."

"What does that mean?" Samuel whispered to Evie, and when she didn't reply, he nudged her shoulder. "Do I look like I could make you scream my name for hours?"

"Yes." Evie's gaze slid to her husband. "But Rowan is a different kind of sexy."

"And then the height and the freaking body that makes you want to rip his shirt off." Lenora fiddled with her bun, shivering as she spoke. "And those tattoos that make you want to, mmmm…"

Annabeth arched an eyebrow at Lenora. "Are you okay?"

"No," Lenora replied seriously. "I don't think I am."

"A badass to the world and a bad boy in bed," Evie added. "Annabeth, think of the orgasms. One is all you need. One orgasm from that man and you can end it."

"One? Girl, you've seen me eat MM's. I can't stop gobbling when it's good." Annabeth groaned in frustration. "How on earth do you think I can just walk away from Rowan McIntyre with only one in my pocket?"

"Get a solid dozen," Lenora agreed. "And we're going to need a report on his size. It's got to be impressive."

"Oh my God, he's huge!" Annabeth spread her hands to show Rowan's length like a man would show off a fish he'd just caught. "As in, it makes me nervous."

"Uh, hello." Samuel waved a hand in front of the phone. "Can we not talk abo—"

"Don't be nervous. You're in for a good time," Jamison assured her as Evie and Lenora nodded. "Large and in charge men like Rowan know what they're working with. It took me a few rounds to get used to Liam, but even in the beginning it was AH-mazing."

"You guys know I'm here, right?" Samuel asked, his volume rising. "Like, I am right here."

Lenora smirked, totally ignoring Samuel. "The good lord above and below blessed Selah. He can do—"

"And that's enough for me. I'm leaving." Samuel's face disappeared from the screen. "Do not talk about my dick, Evangeline."

Evie squealed as if being tickled. "But it's my favorite topic of conversation."

While her sister continued to laugh over whatever Samuel was doing, Jamison propped the phone on the vanity. "How did we all get so lucky in the penis department with our men?"

"Because after all the crap we've been through, the very least the universe could do was swing a couple of large wieners our way," Annabeth replied with a shrug. "That's my theory."

Lenora agreed with a grin. "I wouldn't have married into this crazy family if Selah hadn't been well equipped."

"And what was that comment about our men?" Evie shushed her husband. "Where do we stand with Liam? Are we screwing him or saying screw him?"

Her sister remained upset over what went down on the lawn, and had been texting Liam threatening messages like, watch your back, lizard boy.

"Screwing him."

"Damn it, Jamison." Evie settled back to shove more popcorn in her mouth. "But that's fine, I guess. Get it out of your system."

She tried to sit at her desk, but the dress deemed the chair too low, and she was forced to stand. "What if I can't get him out of my system?"

Evie's face swarmed the screen. "What?"

Taking a deep breath, Jamison decided to let the truth be known. "I want to see if we can work things out."

No one said anything for a handful of seconds. Samuel returned to lie next to Evie so he could hear, while Lenora didn't look the least bit surprised. Neither did Annabeth, who only muttered, "About time."

"Are you sure this isn't coming from seeing him working with Izzy?" Evie asked. "Abe said she's hot."

"It isn't."

Sadness pinched Evie's features. "But I thought you wanted a family?" A huge burp erupted out of her mouth, and unfazed, she continued. "To be pregnant one day?"

"And become a burping freak like yourself?"

"That was unfortunate timing, is all."

"Are you going to give me a pregnancy fart as an encore?"

"We should've beat you up more when you were a kid."

"I love him." It felt good saying it instead of trying to bottle it up. "I love him, and I can't stop. If we have kids, if we don't have kids, does it really matter?"

"It matters if you're giving up something you want." Annabeth came over and hugged her from behind. "Tell her I'm right, Evie."

Her sister dropped more popcorn in her mouth. "No, I'm not going to do that."

Jamison thought she might laugh if her body could expand in the dress long enough to do so. Honestly, she hoped Liam would take one look and tear the thing off her. No need for seduction, just rip it off so she could breathe.

"You're passing on an opportunity to lecture me?"

"I am."

"I'm not." Samuel took the phone from his wife. "Jamison, do you have any idea how hard you're going to have to beg? I know he loves you, but you cut his heart in half."

"I understand." Other than plotting the demise of shrimp, she'd also made a plan. A subtle one, considering how stressed they all were, but one he would appreciate. "Groveling won't be the only thing I'll be doing on my knees."

Evie wrestled the phone from Samuel. "A million blowjobs won't make this an easy fix. You can't just suck the memories of what happened out of him."

"Ah, but you underestimate my abilities."

Was there anything more satisfying than achieving the reaction you wanted within seconds of entering a room? Jamison didn't think so, and standing in the doorway of the media room, she smiled sweetly at Liam. "Where's your costume?"

Rowan whistled appreciatively. He and Liam were leaning over Izzy, reading something on her screen.

Or they were until she appeared.

"I have a mask," Rowan said, straightening. "A wolf."

"Not you." She pointed at Liam. "Where's your costume?"

Eyes on her, he remained frozen. "I'm in it."

When they first started dating, he never dressed for Halloween. But it quickly became his favorite once he realized the holiday meant seeing her in scantily clad costumes.

"What are you supposed to be?"

"An undercover cop."

Izzy stifled a laugh. "How original."

She didn't want to like her. Beautiful, with her perfect boobs and snarky sarcastic attitude, Jamison wanted to find fault in the woman, but couldn't.

"Liam hates Halloween."

Izzy twisted in her seat to snicker at his deep blue dress shirt and slacks. "Man, I knew you were dull, but only lame asses hate Halloween, Cohen." She knocked his hand off her chair and stood. "I expected better from you."

Sporting a pair of black leather pants and a maroon camisole that accentuated her curves, Izzy sauntered around the table. A short-waisted leather jacket completed the look, along with the various fake knives on her belt paired with the very real gun. Jamison didn't know what she was supposed to be, but whatever it was, the woman was pulling it off spectacularly.

The maroon lipstick on Izzy's full lips stretched in approval as she took in the dress. "Very nice." A knowing look entered her caramel eyes, and she nodded. "That costume is made to entice."

Abe pulled up from the hall, partially crashing into Jamison's leg when he saw Izzy. "What are you supposed to be, Izzy?" he asked.

"Why is your voice all squeaky?" Jamison poked his shoulder. "And watch out for my shoes."

Izzy's smile spread across her whole face. "Buffy the Vampire Slayer."

"Dear God, the perfect woman does exist," Abe whispered to where only Jamison could hear and then cleared his throat to speak louder. "You've captured the look totally."

"Thanks." Izzy continued to beam at him. "Are you coming tonight?"

"Um, yes." Abe adjusted his chair, glaring at Jamison so she would move. "I just need to get my costume on."

Scooting out of the way, Jamison stepped deeper into the room, forcing herself not to smirk in triumph as she held Liam's stare. He'd moved beyond shocked desire to anger.

Good.

In the corner, Rowan rummaged through a bag, producing a wolf mask. He slid it on, adjusting the straps. It covered mostly his eyes and nose, working well with his unruly hair and the beard he'd begun to sport over the last couple of days.

"How does this look?"

Dangerous.

Rowan looked deliciously dangerous in the leather wolf mask. Annabeth had a long night of saying no ahead of her.

Izzy obviously thought the same, staring open-mouthed before her gaze connected with Jamison's. "It looks good, yeah?"

"Yeah," Jamison agreed, the word slowly sliding out as an idea popped into her head. "Hey, why don't you see if Annabeth wants to take your bike this time? That way, if she gets tired, you have an easy way out."

Rowan smiled, his sharp canines only adding to the allure. "That's a great idea."

He left to find Annabeth, and Abe rushed off to dress, leaving Jamison alone with only Izzy and Liam.

"I hear your dad is coming with us?" Izzy asked.

"If he's in the area when the company is holding an event, it's customary for him to put in a brief appearance."

"It'll be brief for all of us tonight." Liam slowly approached with his hands fisted at his sides. "Thirty minutes, tops."

"But Annabeth might want to dance the night away."

"You know what?" Izzy headed for the door. "I need to get something from somewhere that's not in here."

"Don't wander too far," Liam called after her as she shut the door.

Ready to begin her plan, Jamison ran a hand down the sheer panels of the dress. When moving in just the right way, the material showed off the curve of a breast.

Knowing the show was for him, Liam stalked her in a circle. "I don't like it."

"What's not to like?"

"Here." He placed his index finger on her hip bone. "The dress should split here on both sides. Keeping it enclosed and form fitting to your ankles is a missed opportunity."

"A missed opportunity for what?"

He snatched her to him, placing her back to his front. The flat of his hand pressed against her stomach, sliding higher at an achingly slow pace. "To show off your body."

Her heels placed them eye to eye, and she looked back over her shoulder. "Since when did you become an expert on fashion?"

"Not fashion." His lips parted, his hand pausing on her upper ribcage. "I'm an expert in all things Jamison."

She wiggled her hips to encourage his already growing erection, and he didn't stop it, his thumb stroking the underside of her breast.

"Is that so?"

"It's the truth." His head dipped lower as if coming in for a kiss. "Still mad at me for what happened on the lawn?"

"Yes." She licked her lips. "Still mad at me for destroying us?"

His hand closed around her breast, squeezing hard. "Yes."

"Good, that means we're on an even playing ground."

Their lips met, and she reached back to tangle her fingers in his hair, holding him close. It was the type of kiss they'd shared a million times. A lazy exploration of tongues that always became more urgent with each passing second.

And once he'd had his fill of her mouth, his lips dragged down to her jawline. "No bra?"

"No underwear either." She continued to rub his hardening length with her ass. "Not even a thong."

Teeth scraped along the column of her neck. "This is going to be a long night."

"Don't leave any marks, or I'll call Buffy in here to stake you."

"I can take Izzy."

He nipped at her flesh, sucking it between his teeth.

"William!"

With an evil chuckle, he spun her around to admire his work. "Looks good."

Jamison shoved him aside to march over to one of the gaming tables and assess the angry red slash growing directly above her collarbone. "Everyone will see this!"

He shrugged with zero remorse. "And?"

Swiping her hair to the side, she combed the long lengths with her fingers, attempting to hide the mark. "Why would you do that?" And then it came to her. "Michael."

She would have sworn he flinched, his dark gaze burning into hers. "So what?"

That stupid phone call. If she ever saw Michael Sinclair again, she was going to do a hell of a lot more than head butt the man. Liam had continued to listen to that damn conversation on repeat, allowing it to eat away at him. "I just find it barbaric."

"You've never had a problem before. Why now?"

"Because you're letting him into your brain," she said. "This isn't some case where you're getting to know the people involved and trying to make them human to help yourself empathize. This is us. Your own family. Emotional involvement is already there."

He turned away to examine something beeping on the laptop. "There is no us, and you're not my family, Jamison. You made that reality happen. The me and you of the past, and those perfect years, are gone. They meant nothing to you, and now they mean nothing to me."

She would not crumble. Number one, the dress wouldn't allow for it, and number two, the small shred of dignity she still held remained strong enough to keep her standing.

But if not for those two things, she would be in a heap on the floor over what he'd just said. Crying. Begging. Blabbering all the painful things she couldn't bear for him to hear yet.

"There will always be an us." Her voice wobbled as she spoke, and then more of those damn tears burned along the rim of her eyes. God, these things were really starting to piss her off. "If you want to lie to yourself, go ahead, but saying that we no longer exist makes you look like an idiot, and you're not an idiot. You're a brilliant man who is hurt. I hurt you. I accept that. I fucking hurt myself in the process."

He stiffened as she spoke, leaning down to type on the keyboard of the laptop as if too preoccupied to give her his full attention.

"But you will always love me like I will always love you." If she were going to drive this emotional train wreck, then he better be prepared to come along for the ride. "When I'm taking my last breath, no matter where life has led me, or how many years it will have been, the memory of your face will be the last thing I see. Your smile. Your laugh. You. The memories of you are my most precious possessions. They keep me sane, and I refuse to give them up. I refuse to give up on us. I did it once. I'm not doing it again."

His head tilted up to the ceiling, shaking back and forth as he straightened. "Stop talking."

"No!" she shouted. "I am not going down without a fight."

"Do you need me to say I love you? Easy. I love you." He turned to face her, his steady calm in place. "And that shit you just said about seeing my face when you take your final breath? Same. Every single part of your heart and soul belongs to me, and like you, I refuse to give them up."

"But then why the whole—"

Liam held a hand in the air, and her mouth snapped shut. "It doesn't matter that I love you. The blind trust that came with that love is gone, and I can't rush back into this, Jamison. I want to. I want to forget these last six months. But for my sanity, I can't."

That was fair. They had nothing but time. Forever, if destiny was on her side.

A tear slipped down her cheek, sneaking past her defenses. She cursed, trying to stop it before any damage was done to her makeup.

Liam snatched a napkin from the coffee station they had set up and brought it over. "No more crying," he ordered gruffly as she patted her face. "That wingtip eyeliner looks like it took a long time to apply."

"It did, you bastard." She gave a little laugh. "And you haven't even told me how pretty I look."

"I don't like the dress."

Tossing the napkin, she swatted his chest. "Liar."

"If you need to run, it isn't going to let you get very far, very fast."

"If I need to run, you can carry me."

"Loving you is terrifying, Jamison, but your faith in me is just as scary," he grumbled, swiping a hand through his hair. The loose curls were back, meaning he'd undergone another trim. "Did you ever think I might be occupied fighting or chasing said threat which would require you to run?"

"Well, then we'll do what we do best." Moving closer, she fixed the stray strands of his hair flopping about out of place. "Improvise."

The door swung open, and her father stuck his head in, frowning. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"A dress?" She shifted so he could see the full concept and pawed at the air. "I'm a cat."

"What kind of cat wears a dress like that?"

She waved a hand at his clothes. The man never deviated from his usual expensive collared dress shirts and perfectly tailored slacks. "Well, neither of you are wearing a costume!"

Heaving out a sigh, her father shook his head. "Because we're not a couple of assholes. Rowan is the only one of us who can get away with wearing a mask because he looks the way he does."

"I'm sexy, and I know it." Rowan appeared next to her father in the doorway, the leather wolf mask still in place. "Are we going?"

Annabeth wrapped around Rowan's arm, bursting with excitement. "Where's Abe?"

"Abe is putting on his costume." Jamison joined them in the hall, with Liam following. He closed the media room door, locking it as he did. "Abe isn't ashamed to have a little fun."

"Really?" Her father turned to shout down the hall, "Hey, Abe, what kind of costume is that?"

Abe rolled out of the kitchen, dressed almost exactly as before. "Angel."

Rowan looked confused. "Angel?"

"Behold, my brother trying to flirt," Annabeth whispered in case Izzy was around. "Angel is Buffy's true love."

"Spike is Buffy's true love." Simone snuck up behind her daughter. "That is a solid fact."

"I agree with Annabeth," Rowan said, oblivious as to how seriously Simone took Buffy. The woman loved all things vampire. Books. Movies. TV shows. "I liked Buffy with Angel."

Simone narrowed her eyes in his direction. "Excuse me?"

Even under the mask, Jamison could see the horrified look on Rowan's face. The poor guy wanted to be on Simone's good side, but the joke was on him. The woman didn't have a good side.

"And that's my signal." Her father patted Rowan on the shoulder as he headed to the front of the house. "I'm leaving."

"Wait, I'm riding with you." Abandoning Rowan to his fate, Jamison chased after her father. Or tried. Her heels clicked on the hardwood in rapid succession as she attempted to keep up in the dress. "I told Evie we would stop by their house so she could see my outfit."

"Hold on there, Speed Racer." Liam chased her down, his long legs catching her in a few strides. "We need to go over the protocols for tonight."

She continued to shuffle down the hall. "Stay close to you, and if you're unavailable, stay close to my dad."

"I won't be unavailable."

"You will be if you make me cry again, and I murder you and hide your body in the hedges."

"I love it when you try to flirt." Liam grabbed her arm, bringing her to an immediate stop. "It's always so aggressive."

"Very funny."

Her father paused at the front door. "Do I need to hear any of this?"

"Probably best if you don't," Liam replied.

"Thanks for the honesty," her father said and slipped out.

"Protocols." Jamison crossed her arms. "Let's hear them."

Pulling something from his pocket, Liam produced a small black square sitting on his fingertip. "Mic."

"It's so tiny."

"Rowan's design. There's also a small earpiece I want you to wear." He fiddled with the neckline of her dress, securing the black square. "Stay with me at all times unless I say something different. I might leave you in a crowd to see who approaches."

"So, the mic is the hook and I'm the worm," she mumbled sarcastically. "Wonderful."

"Answer all phone calls."

"Got it."

"And under no circumstances do you fight me if I kiss you in public."

Now, he was just being ridiculous.

"I guess you were too distracted to notice, but what we did out under the oak was my first ‘good time' in a long time," she whispered, very aware of the audience watching at the end of the hall. "So, no, William. I am not going to fight if you kiss me in public. Hell, I wouldn't even fight if you wanted to have sex with me in public."

"If you keep it up, I'm going to be spanking you in public."

"And I'm totally down with that, too."