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He faced his punching bag again. “Twelve years younger than me.”
And I wasn’t sure why that seemed to bother him so much.
“I’ll leave you to it,” I said and stood as he jerked his chin in acknowledgment of my words. A moment later, his music was back on, and I shuffled to my room with visions of Liam boxing in my head.
SIX
KENNEDY
My first week on the job was great. I met up with Finn’s preschool teachers to introduce myself, scheduled appointments with the speech therapist, and signed him up for a music class since he loved to bang around so much. I’d even had my car returned to me in top condition because of whatever Dylan had said to Jeff. I liked to think the grumpy-looking mechanic went in there like a mafia boss and threatened to break kneecaps. Though Liam, always the voice of reason, assured me that definitely did not happen.
We had slipped into a good routine, Liam and I. He came home between five and six, depending on what he had to do, and by then, dinner was ready. We’d all eat together, and then I’d have the night off to do what I wanted, which up until tonight had been lazing around. But I had plans to meet up with friends for drinks later.
The front door opened, and Finn lifted his gaze from where he’d been studiously watching me paint his nails. His mouth opened wide, eyes curious.
“That must be your daddy,” I said, and I could tell he wanted to race out of the chair, but I shook my head. “The timer didn’t go off yet.”
He glanced at the red circle on my phone and then to me. “No off et.”
“Not off yet,” I corrected with a smile. “Here. Go like this.” I softly blew over his nails, and he did the same, even as I heard Liam’s muffled steps on the carpet behind me.
A moment later, he announced himself. “What’s going on here?”
Finn hopped around on his chair, holding his hands up. “Ook! Ook!”
“Careful, babes,” I told him. “You don’t want to get polish everywhere.”
Liam held Finn’s hands up to get a look at them. “Playing nail salon for real, huh?” Liam kissed his son’s head. “I like that purple.”
Even though I should have been used to it by now, every time I witnessed Liam’s ease as a dad and his healthy masculinity, my heart fluttered. I didn’t know very many men, and of those few, not a whole lot of them were comfortable in themselves or progressive in their attitudes. There was Dean, but he was, like, one in a million.
Though, I supposed, Liam made two.
“He saw me doing my nails and wanted his done too,” I explained. “I set the timer and told him he couldn’t move until it went off.”
Liam shucked off his blazer and slouched into the chair next to his son at the dining room table. “That’s a good way to keep him still. Huh, guy?”
I liked when he called Finn guy. A hint of his natural accent lacing the single syllable.
I bent, blowing air over Finn’s nails. “Almost done. Twenty more seconds.” Finn sat up, craning his neck to watch the timer count down, so I counted out loud. “Eighteen, seventeen, sixteen…”
The corner of Liam’s mouth rose, and my cheeks heated.
“His speech therapist said we need to narrate Finn’s day. I was?—”
“No, you’re good.” Liam leaned forward, his eyes on my cell phone, and then he joined me. “Ten, nine, eight, seven…”
Together, we counted down until the timer went off, and Finn leaped from the chair, running in a circle around the dining table as if he needed to stretch his legs before throwing himself at his dad, who caught him.
“I always have trouble with that,” Liam said, “the narration thing. I’m not generally a talkative person, and it’s hard to know what to say.”
“Don’t worry.” I waved my hand. “I do enough talking for the both of us.”
“Yeah. I got that.”
I smiled and started to put the nail polish away, but Finn pushed Liam’s hand toward me. “You!”
“Me what?” Liam asked.
