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“See, and that’s why I like to win.” He smiles. “That look right there on your face. That’s what I like.” I smile back, and lean into him as we continue walking again. A few steps later, Liam breaks the silence. “I am interested, though, why is Christmas so important to you? Any meaning behind that?”
“My parents are divorced,” I tell him, not feeling like I need to hide this part of myself. I hook my arm through his and set to explaining. “They were two of the most miserable people when they were together. But no matter what, they always put their feelings aside and got together on Christmas Day for me.”
“Even after their divorce?”
I nod. “Even after.” We pass by a man painted silver and pretending to be a statue. Believable enough that even a pigeon is perched on his head. I smile at them both before addressing Liam again. “Of course, it took me a long time to figure out that’s why I loved Christmas so much.”
“It’s a nice thing to love,” he says, taking my hand. “For a very good reason.”
“It is,” I agree.
We stroll along passing by break-dancers and then further down is a crowd gathered around a magician. With each step I take, I become more curious about the man who seems to understand the way I tick. “What is your Christmas?”
“This.” He gestures with his chin. “Santa Monica is my Christmas.”
“Is there any special meaning behind why you love it here so much?”
He draws in a deep breath glancing out in front of him. “I feel right when I’m here.” The side of his mouth arches, and he looks at me. “Does that make sense?”
I nod and smile. “It does to me.” I realize though there is a lot I don’t know about him. Considering he knows a very personal thing about me, I feel like a bag of shit for that. “What of your family?” I ask to correct my error.
“My family is small,” he explains, moving to a bench facing the water and gesturing for me to sit. After I do, he sits next to me. “My father passed away six years ago. My mother lives in a retirement community in Florida.”
I like how it feels when he possessively drags an arm across my shoulder. Like it a little too much, in fact. “She went that route, huh?”
He nods. “All of her friends ended up moving to Florida so she jumped on that train.”
“How often do you see her?”
“Not often enough, really.” The tension in his eyes tells me he’s close to his mother. “I travel there to see her every couple of months, and of course over the holidays. But she has a good life out there. A busy life with a new husband.”
“She sounds happy.”
He gives another firm nod. “She’s a ball of sunshine and bourbon, my mother.”
“She sounds like a woman I’d like.” I chuckle then admit, “Though, honestly, I can’t imagine why anyone would want to leave this behind for Florida.”
“Neither can I.” He drags his fingers along my shoulder, glancing out at the beach ahead of us.
Silence settles in, and it’s a comfortable silence, I come to realize. I’m highly aware of the way I lean into him, how that single touch of his rises my body temperature, and how I pay attention to his every move. Though my mind is on hyperdrive, and I need answers. I glance at Liam next to me. His gaze seems to have never moved away. “What about friends? What do you do for fun?”
“I mingle,” he says.
“With people you do business with, you mean?”
He inclines his head. “Business takes up a lot of my free time.”
“No close friends other than that?”
“I have a few college buddies. We get together when we can. Somehow, though, life seems to get busy, and not just for me.”
I consider that, thinking men are so different than women. Or maybe just businessmen are different. Their professional life and personal life are so intertwined. I can’t imagine that. Sure, Jackson and I catch a game at the pub sometimes. But I consider Jackson a close friend, family even.
Liam suddenly chuckles, dragging me from my thoughts. “You think there’s something wrong with my not having close friends?” he asks.
“Not wrong, exactly,” I clarify with a shrug. “I just can’t imagine that. I have Mallory. And before Mallory, I had other close friends. I still talk to those friends, but life has taken on new directions and stuff.”
Something crosses his face then. It’s like I’ve touched on a sore spot. I begin to wonder if maybe he once did have a close friend.
