Page 25 of The Irishman's Christmas Gamble
“I can’t imagine a ten-year-old boy being a coldhearted cynic.”
She felt him tense. “That’s just the facade. I know the generous, caring woman behind it.”
“Dear God, don’t spew that mush to anyone else. It will ruin my reputation.” But his words spread warmth in her chest.
“Tough as nails Frankie.” His tone was so tender and understanding that she wanted to curl into him. “But that’s not what you and Owen have in common. It’s that he likes to blow things up.”
“I don’t recall ever joining the IRA.” She made her tone dry.
“He’s a chemist. He stirs things together to see what happens. Like you and your chocolate.” He picked up her hand and kissed one of the burn scars made by a spill of melted chocolate. “You have more of these than when I knew you.”
“You can’t avoid them when you’re cooking.”
He kissed another one on her wrist and sighed, his breath feathering over her skin deliciously. “I imagine Owen will collect similar marks. His mother says he’s obsessed.”
“More important, how’s his corner kick?”
Liam’s muscles tensed under her again. “He has no interest in sports.”
She saw the bafflement in his face. “Did his mother steer him away from them?”
“No, Carolyn plays tennis and rides horses.” He shrugged. “Owen will have a kickabout with me but he’s just being polite to his da.”
“And you don’t know what to do with him.” Her heart squeezed with sadness for Liam. How could he have a son who didn’t want to play ball with him?
His face was bleak as he said, “Soccer’s been my whole life.”
“So go to a science museum with him, and let Owen expand your horizons. That will be exciting for him.” Now she understood why Liam had been thinking about studying the sciences.
“For someone who says she doesn’t like kids, you have some smart ideas about them.”
“I figure kids are just people on a smaller scale. People love to share their expertise. It’s showing off, but in a constructive way.” For all her siblings, she knew almost nothing about relating to a child on any but the most basic level of caretaking.
“So you’ll meet him and let him show you how to blow things up?” He stroked her shoulder.
“You keep trapping me with my own words.”
“There’s no other way to do it.”
