Page 18 of The Focal Point

“It was just a feeling.” I cut Tom off. “And I was right because every time I tried to ask about her personal life during our meetings, she shut me out.”

“She shut you out because she’s a professional and she was working,” Tom pointed out.

“I know I’m right.” I took a sip of my beer to calm my rising annoyance. “This will give me a chance to get to know her, to show her I’m worth taking a chance on.”

Tom shook his head again, his mouth turning up in a bemused flick. “You and your ideas, Liam.”

“I think my ideas have worked out pretty well for you,” I shot back, indicating the large home in which we found ourselves.

“I’m talking about romance and relationships.” Crossing back across the kitchen, Tom took a long drink of his beer. “I don’t get it. All I need is my work and Scout—anything else you can take care of with a one-night stand.”

I barely managed to keep from rolling my eyes—we’d had this conversation too many times to count. “That isn’t true at all, and you would know that if you ever gave a relationship a shot.”

“Too much work.” The cabinet under which he was leaning again muffled his reply.

“A relationship is about so much more than sex, Tom. You don’t know because you’ve never given it a chance. It’s about connection, partnership, and someone to share things with.”

“How would you know?” Tom paused for a moment to look at me from his awkward angle. “You’ve had one failed relationship after another. And every single one of them had something about them that made you think she was ‘the one.’”

“Just because they didn’t work out doesn’t mean they were failures,” I gritted out, unclenching my jaw by force and opening my laptop again. “Some relationships work, some don’t. Sometimes you think someone is it and find out they aren’t. Dating is about finding that someone who is. But you won’t find anyone if you don’t get out there and try.”

“I won’t find anyone because I don’t want anyone. Scout and I are good as we are.”

It was my turn to shake my head. No matter how often I tried to show Tom he was missing out, he hadn’t relented. Then again, neither had I.

He was right in one aspect. I’d had past relationships, relationships I had been sure would work out, though none of them had. Some had ended amicably, others not so well, one or two messily. But I knew that was the way things were. None of my “failures,” as Tom put it, had managed to wipe away my belief that someday I would find someone with whom I could spend the rest of my life like my parents had until my mother passed away.

“Someday, man, you’re going to find someone who’s going to wipe away all that certainty you have,” I warned.

“Doubt it” came from under the cabinet.

“I know it.” I was confident he would, and that day, I would laugh and laugh. And congratulate him, of course. And then rub it in his face some more. “You’re going to figure out how wonderful it is to find someone you can build a life with.”

“Are you trying to describe my life or yours?” Tom had snapped the final bit of rope light into place and extracted himself. Now he looked at me with his hands on his hips, his face screwed up into a grimace. “Because that doesn’t sound like anything I would want in a million years. I’m good as I am.”

“You say that now, but there’s nothing like it—someone to come home to, someone to laugh with, someone you can rely on—”

“Thomas?”

I choked on my words and had to gasp back a coughing fit as Bailey’s voice interrupted my soliloquy to love, especially since I had pictured her the entire time.

Tom laughed, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Didn’t I mention Bailey was coming today? She’s finishing up a few details.”

Sucking down beer to quiet the last of the coughing fit, I shot him a heated glare, then finally managed to turn and give Bailey what I hoped was a bright smile. She was looking between us, a line of uncertainty between her eyes.

“What are you two up to?”

“Oh, right.” We had gotten distracted—again. Well, I guess I was the one who had gotten distracted. “Hold on a second.”

I finished the few lines of code left, then looked up at nodded at Tom.

“Activate Rebel Alliance mode,” he called out to what looked like thin air.

Almost immediately, the lights in the kitchen dimmed while the rope lights flared to life in a bright red. The Star Wars theme began to play, the first dramatic notes echoing around the room.

“Hey, perfect.” Tom grinned as we high-fived.

But when I looked back at Bailey, she didn’t seem nearly as impressed, her lips a line of bewildered amusement.