A Hamilton Family Christmas - Donna Kauffman Page 0,116
he said, when a few moments passed and she didn’t look back at him. “I wanted to stay. It stopped being about talking up the project pretty much as soon as you let me in. In fact, if you want to know a secret, I’m no’ too certain I ever much cared what we discussed. I just wanted to see you again.”
She looked up again, clearly surprised. “Why?”
“Oh, I told myself it was the project, but once I was here, I knew it was more than that. You intrigued me, Melody. I wanted to know more.” He tipped his chin up and kissed her forehead, effectively ending the line of questioning and, he hoped, his apparent inability to keep his trap shut. “Do you need to get the rest done tonight? Do you need more help?”
“No, that’s not it. I can make do. Would you have stayed and helped if I did?”
If it would keep me around you awhile longer, I’d build kingdoms for you, he wanted to say. But, mercifully, he seemed to have at least some control over blurting out each and every one of his thoughts. “What, wasn’t I doing a good enough job?” he teased. “By the last couple cupcakes, I wasn’t even licking my fingers any longer.”
She looked up more sharply at him, then knuckled him gently in the ribs. “Very funny. You Irishmen have a dry wit.”
“And most of us a wet whistle. I’m sure there’s some connection there somewhere.”
“So, you enjoy a good ale, then?”
He shook his head. “Never touch the stuff.”
“Really?” she asked.
He chuckled a bit dryly. “We’re not all a bunch of loud, limerick-reciting sots, you know.”
“I didn’t mean that,” she said.
He could see by the honest surprise on her face that she was telling the truth.
“It was simply because, growing up in a restaurant and pub, it would make sense if you had a—”
“Acquired a taste for a few nips now and again?” He shook his head, and tried to keep his tone smooth. She was poking in places she didn’t know were tender. More than that, it annoyed him to no end to realize just how tender they still were. “Quite the opposite in my case. I don’t touch any of the stuff.”
She gave him a steadier look, and he realized she wasn’t just talking off the top of her head. “I was going to say ‘acquired a distinguished palate’ but, either way, it’s still a surprise to hear you don’t drink at all. Not to be obvious, but is it because you saw too many folks who couldn’t stop at those few nips?”
“Something like that.” He felt even more the fool for letting her innocent questions make him feel so defensive. It had been a long while since he’d cared what anyone thought of him, or the family situation he’d come from. He would never have volunteered the information, but it was important to him that she knew who he was, though he couldn’t have said why, since their time together would be limited. “My father, mostly.”
She laid her hand over his heart, her expression instantly compassionate. “That’s rough. I’m sorry. I can’t pretend to know anything about it, but I’m sure I’m grossly understating when I say that couldn’t have been a good situation for a child.”
He could have pointed out any number of scars, some small, some more noticeable, like the ones through his eyebrow and along his hairline, that were part of what hadn’t been a good situation. She wasn’t pitying him, merely feeling bad that he’d had such a difficult time. There was a distinct difference. “No,” he said. “It wasn’t. I left when I was sixteen. My father died a few years after.”
“You didn’t go back?”
“No.” He tipped her chin up, cupped her cheek, and smiled. It came easily, surprising him. “I didn’t do too badly from that point on.”
“They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, but I suspect a situation like yours might have gone the other way. It doesn’t seem fair, for any kid to have to deal with that.”
“I spent my fair share of time thinking about that, but it wasn’t going to help matters.”
“Your grandmother, the one whose restaurant you worked in, didn’t she?”—Melody lifted her hand—“No, that’s none of my business. I’ll just say I’m glad you escaped, and that your path changed afterward. I’m guessing it didn’t happen right away, though. How did you get from there to doing what you do now?”