Page 63 of All the Gossip from Paris
“Hey, let’s take a group pic and we can share it on socials. I know mom and dad would love to see their boys on Christmas Eve,” said Ryan.
It was a little after four o’clock in the afternoon in New Jersey. Brenda Collins would be coming off her last pre-Christmas shift at the hospital. As soon as she got home, she’d be busy scrolling through social media. A photo showing her sons enjoying Christmas Eve dinner and wishing them a happy holidays would be the perfect touch.
Liam grabbed his cell phone out of his coat. “Did we all want to come and sit together? I can take a selfie for us.”
Camille rose from her seat and immediately dropped onto her husband’s lap. Liam moved around to the other side of the table, shuffling onto the couch beside them. He and Sophie exchanged a brief look before she followed suit and came to join the rest of the group.
He would have been more than happy if she’d decided to sit on his lap, but they were in public, and Liam didn’t want to push things. Seated beside him, Sophie sat forward on the bench seat. As Liam lifted the phone to take a picture, Sophie counted them down. “On the count of three. Un. Deux. Trois.”
“Joyeux Noël!” they all cried.
Liam snapped off a few photos. He opened Instagram and made a quick post. It was only as he hit the share button that he caught sight of Sophie’s arm. Of the diamond and silver bracelet which sparkled on her wrist.
She was still wearing the gift from Patrice.
It shouldn’t hurt him as much as it did. He didn’t own Sophie. She wasn’t his girlfriend. They were barely lovers. But it took all his inner strength not to cry out. Not to give voice to what had been slowly building in his heart over the past few days.
I damn well wish she was mine.
Liam was quiet all through the next course. Sophie’s initial thoughts were that it was because the roasted saddle of lamb was simply that good. Even she couldn’t recall the Royal family chef creating such a masterful dish. But by the time the four of them had finished a shared platter of local cheeses, she was sure something else was seriously amiss.
On the short walk from the restaurant to the local church for the midnight mass, he said but few words to her. While Camille and Ryan went inside, Sophie took hold of the sleeve of Liam’s coat, and drew him aside.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked as they stood to one side of the snow dusted street. “You’ve been silent as the grave since mid-way through dinner. Did I say something to offend you?”
She couldn’t think what it might be, but the minds of men were mysterious things. Women at least tended to share their thoughts. There’d been enough emotionally unavailable men in her life for Sophie to know when something was up.
Liam stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. When he spoke it was to the patch of ice that sat on the path next to Sophie’s boots. He wouldn’t look at her.
“You’re wearing the bracelet he gave you. I know I shouldn’t be jealous of him. But I am.”
She’d sensed his anger earlier in the day when Patrice had given her the expensive gift. Could have sworn she heard Liam’s teeth grinding as he held back his temper. She hadn’t imagined he’d be worried about Patrice, or she would never have worn it out tonight.
I didn’t mean to hurt Liam.
Liam was jealous. If he had the slightest inkling as to how happy that made her feel, he wasn’t showing it. Perhaps he didn’t understand.
Sophie shifted on her feet, and Liam stirred from his study of the cobbled pavement. As their gazes met, she smiled softly at him. “You have nothing to be jealous about. Or insecure. Patrice is the one who is seething every time he sees you.”
“I kinda got that vibe from him.”
“I’m surprised he hasn’t challenged you to a duel.”
Liam chuckled. “Is that a thing in the twenty first century? I mean I’ve seen them in movies. People don’t really fight them anymore, do they?”
She’d got him to laugh. It was a start. Maybe this evening could be salvaged.
“Patrice is an Olympic level fencer, but I doubt even he’d go through with actually killing you. He’s much more in favor of a withering look or a cutting remark.”
Knowing Patrice, he would consider it beneath him to kill someone like Liam. She wasn’t going to mention that unpleasant fact.
Liam gave a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry I’ve been in a bit of a mood this evening—that’s not fair on you. It’s Christmas Eve. You have every right to wear a gift that someone gave you. Thank you for snapping me out of my funk,” said Liam.
It wasn’t entirely his fault. Liam was a lovely man, and she’d been thoughtless in wearing the gift from her ex. After slipping the bracelet from her wrist, Sophie put it into her crossbody purse. She would put it back in its box when she got home. Tonight would be the first and last time she wore it.
Taking hold of Liam’s hand, she towed him toward the front steps of the church. “Come on, midnight mass is about to begin. Hopefully Cami and Ryan have been able to claim a spot for us next to them in the pew. When the church bells chime midnight, I want you right beside me.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
