Read Last Chance (Liar Liar #3) for Free Online

tonight.”
    “Yeah, you too. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, which leaves it pretty much wide open.”
    She smacked his shoulder as a blush crept over her cheeks. “Get out of here.” She watched him leave before she turned back to me. “I… uh… thought he would want to stay.”
    “Are you uncomfortable being here alone with me?” I gestured to the cooler. “We can just stick this stuff in the fridge and go grab a bite somewhere.”
    “No.” She shook her head hesitantly. “We’ll need privacy.” She lifted the cooler lid and peered inside, her jaw dropping as she took in the contents. “Wow, all of my favorites. I’m surprised you remembered.”
    “I remember everything about you, angel.” My hands were itching to caress her, but I knew that wasn’t an option.
    Ignoring my statement, she turned her back on me to wash her hands. Tearing a paper towel off the rack and drying her hands, she said, “What can I do to help?”
    “Not much. I marinated the salmon at my place. We’ll just stick the potatoes and asparagus in the oven…” I pressed a button to pre-heat the oven. “They should be ready by the time I’ve grilled the salmon.”
    She watched me carefully as I set the glass pans in the oven. “It looks like you know your way around a kitchen. I’m kind of surprised. I assumed someone like you would have a personal chef.”
    “I do, but I’m not a slave driver. I give her the night off every now and then.” I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “Seriously, I like to cook when I have the time. It helps me to relax. Besides, it’s not easy for me to go out. People usually recognize me and start bombarding me with questions about my fighters.”
    “I don’t know a lot about your business,” she admitted, propping her hip against the counter as I rinsed the romaine. “I mean, I did some research when your team contacted me about planning the party, but that’s about it.”
    “What do you want to know?” I was relieved that conversation was flowing freely and that she seemed interested in my life. Maybe she was starting to believe my story and consider other suspects.
    “Did you ever think about getting back into it yourself when you…” She cleared her throat. “Got out of prison? I remember how much you used to love it.”
    I shrugged. “I mix it up with my guys sometimes, just so I don’t get too stale, but I was too old to start all over again by the time I got out.”
    “Were you bitter about that?” She stole a piece of the cucumber I’d just washed and sliced.
    “What’s the point of holding on to bitterness?” I asked, considering my words carefully. “You know what? That’s a lie. I was bitter. I still am. The cops, the court, the bastard who did this, they stole years of my life, had me rotting in prison for crimes I didn’t commit, caused my parents years of misery, and convinced you I was a monster. How can I be okay with that?” I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
    “It’s okay,” she said, staring at me wide-eyed.
    She didn’t say that she understood or would have felt the same way in my position, so I wasn’t even sure that she believed me, but at least she wasn’t telling me I’d gotten exactly what I deserved.
    “Would you like a glass of wine?” I asked, inclining my head toward the cooler. “There’s a nice bottle of chardonnay in there.”
    “I’d love one,” she said, reaching for the bottle. She had to sneak past me to retrieve the corkscrew from the drawer beneath the counter where I was chopping vegetables. Her hand accidentally brushed my abdomen, causing my stomach to clench. “Sorry.”
    “No problem.”
    “Would you like a glass?” she asked, reaching into an overhead cabinet for wine glasses.
    “I think I’ll finish my beer first.” I watched her struggle to reach the glass on a high shelf before I moved in to help. “Let me get that for you.”
    My front was pressed to her back, and I had no