Page 13 of Against Ebony Irish Seas

“Every child should have access to art if they want it.” He smiled then.

“I couldn’t agree more. I’d like to help if I can.”

His chest lifted with a deep breath. “I’d like that very much.”

They fell silent, doing nothing but staring at each other. Everyone else’s voices faded to the background, and all she could see was his face, his cobalt eyes shining brightly. Her heart beat steadily in her chest and her belly turned liquid. She wanted to touch him. Have him touch her. She looked at his lips, noting how the one on the bottom was fuller, richer.

Then he shook himself like a dog coming in from the rain. “But I’m monopolizing you from everyone else. I’m—”

“I don’t mind.” Her voice turned shy. “I attend a lot of parties with work, but I prefer to be the one in the corner with someone I know or a new friend.”

He took his glass back and drank. “I’m glad it’s me tonight.”

“Me too.” She laid her hand tentatively on his chest. “Jamie, I’m really glad to be here.”

His free hand tucked her hair behind her right ear. His touch was also tentative, but the simple caress still sizzled like party sparklers. “I feel compelled to say it. If you really want to expand your art, we’re behind you. I would make a grand rotten egg shield, I think, but I would recommend an easier way. Checking people’s bags before entry.”

She’d always wondered why the gallery hadn’t thought of that. Then again, maybe they’d been okay with the controversy right up until it damaged the art they were exhibiting. Controversy caused discussion. Discussion sparked disagreements, which newspaper articles loved to report on. Press helped increase a work of art’s value.

Art played its own games.

“I want to expand,” she admitted, “and I’d been planning to give it serious thought while making the Tree of Life. Now I wonder if it’s too tame. I was going for something beyond my normal. Flowers. But it’s not really outside the box, is it?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Jamie said in that deep voice. “And if you want to talk it out with someone, I’m here for you. In any way you need, Sophie.”

The last phrase had her imagination going haywire. Fire licked its way up her thighs, and she was sure her face was heating. “Good to know. And thank you.”

He pressed the glass into her hand. “No thanks necessary. I’ll go find us another whiskey. I’m going to swing by to see if Greta needs anything, too, if that’s all right with you.”

Shock stuck in her throat before she said, “That would be great. I’ll just stay here.” She could use a moment to herself.

Nodding, he headed over to her daughter, who smiled up at him and showed him how Lucky could jump. His endearing grin got to her. My, she was already in deep waters with Jamie Fitzgerald.

Her gaze averted to Bets, who’d walked over briskly, as though she’d been waiting for an opening, and taken Jamie’s place against the wall. “I see you and Jamie are getting along.”

“He’s been nothing but solid.”

“That he is.” She worried her lip. “Sophie, I’m so sorry about today. I have half a mind to beat on Malcolm Coveney’s front door first thing tomorrow morning, but Linc told me we need to be smart and not go off half-cocked. Despite how ready I am for a fight.”

The orange-haired woman rapped her fist into her other palm, looking fierce despite her petite frame of five-three. Sophie had liked her from the moment they’d met in Provence. It had been enough that Linc thought the world of Bets, but Greta had shot it to the moon when she’d taken to the mother of three grown boys like a candy wrapper to candy.

“I hate to admit Linc is right,” she continued. “We’ve called an emergency board meeting to talk about strategy, and Linc’s going to call Malcolm tomorrow and shake the bushes.”

“Tell him to watch for the snakes falling out.” Then she grimaced. “But Ireland doesn’t have snakes, right?

“Only the two-legged kind,” Bets said with a roll of her pale blue eyes. “I wanted to tell you not to worry, but who am I kidding? They took your home away. Are you sure you don’t want to stay with us? I’d happily put you in one of the cottages, but Linc doesn’t think you’d like the spiders.”

She fought a full-body shudder. “He’s right. Greta wouldn’t— No, Jamie was kind enough to offer, and we shouldn’t have to displace him for long.”

“No.” The older woman clanked the ice in her cocktail, something pink and fruity. “We’ll have it sorted out shortly.”

She didn’t sound convinced. Truthfully, neither was Sophie.

“It’s important to stay positive,” she said in her best mommy voice.

“As my son, Liam, likes to say, ‘a negative mindset only breeds more negativity.’”

“Like mold,” Sophie offered lamely. God, they were both trying too hard.

---