in fact. We’ll talk about it.” He smiled at Sara.
Sara’s mouth pressed into a tight line. “I don’t think we’ll be talking about it anytime soon.” She turned to her son and said firmly, “He can tell you all about his castle, Liam. But do not expect to go zipping across the ocean.”
“But I’ve never seen a real castle.”
“You’re five. You have plenty of time,” Sara said unsympathetically. “And in the meantime you can make them out of Legos.”
Liam brightened. “I already did.” He spun towards Flynn. “It’s sort of real. But it doesn’t have a moat either. Wanna see it?” He was all eagerness now, hopping from one foot to the other now, looking up at Flynn.
The expression on his face now didn’t remind Flynn so much of Will as it did of the young Sara—when he had first met her. She’d had that same sparkle, that same eager, avid, intense enthusiasm.
Right now she was glaring at him, her jaw locked.
He had made a living out of reading people, picking up their body language, understanding when to move in, when to back off. He had no trouble reading Sara. She wasn’t thrilled to see him and, he supposed, he didn’t blame her. He hadn’t been here when she needed him.
But he’d come when he found out, hadn’t he? They’d get it sorted. They had to. But they weren’t going to do it now in front of their five-year-old son. So he gave Sara a quick smile that, he hoped, appeased her for the moment, then turned to Liam. “I’d like that.”
“C’mon, then!” And Liam was off, pounding up the stairs.
Flynn looked at Sara. She glared. Then she shrugged. “Oh, hell, go with him. But don’t you dare encourage him to think about jetting off to Ireland!”
“It’s possible, Sar’. Not immediately but we should discuss—”
“No, we shouldn’t! Damn it, Flynn, you can’t just pop up and disrupt our lives. It’s been six years!”
“I didn’t know—”
“And you didn’t want to know,” Sara said, “or you’d have come back.”
“I thought—”
“I don’t care what you thought. You knew where I was. I didn’t leave! If I’d mattered at all, you’d have come back. You never came!”
“You were going to med school.”
She stared at him. “Do I look like I went to med school?”
He blinked, then shook his head, dazed. “What do you mean? How should you look?”
“I got pregnant, Flynn. I had two and half years of university left for my bachelor’s. I had a baby. It was all I could do to get through that. I didn’t go to med school.”
“But—”
“Circumstances change. Plans change.”
“Yes, but—” He couldn’t believe it. She’d been so driven. “Is that why you’re so ticked at me?”
She stared. “What? Because I couldn’t go to med school? Of course not! I don’t care about that. I got my degree. I have my own business. I’m a CPA—certified public accountant. I like my work. I like numbers in boxes. I like adding things up and having them come out right. I like knowing the answers! Speaking of which, what the hell is this about you living in a castle?”
He shrugged, still trying to come to grips with Sara as a CPA, not a doctor as he’d always imagined. Sara as a mother had been tricky enough. But Sara changing her determined plans boggled his mind. She’d been so committed, so determined. She’d said flat-out that nothing was going to stop her.
“Castle?” she prompted, when he didn’t answer immediately.
“I inherited it,” he said dismissively.
“You told me there was nothing for you in Ireland!”
“There wasn’t. I wasn’t supposed to inherit, I didn’t want to. My brother died.” He got angry all over again just thinking about it. Sometimes he wanted to strangle Will—except he wanted his brother alive. That was the whole problem.
“Will,” she said, making the connection.
“Will.” It always felt like a lead ball hitting him in the stomach when he said his brother’s name.
Sara pressed her lips together. “Well, I really am sorry about that. It was…a shock, I gather.”
“An accident. Coming to get me at the airport.”
A mixture of pain and sympathy flickered across her face. “Oh, God.”
“Exactly.”
Their gazes met again. The connection that had been so strong seemed to be flickering back to life—and Flynn couldn’t believe how astonishingly happy that made him feel.
And then, as if she shut the light off, Sara’s expression went blank. “You’d better go see the castle,” she said, pointing through the door to the kitchen. “Just through there and up the stairs.”
Thank goodness he went after Liam.
Sara didn’t know how much longer she could have stood there and talked rationally—well, almost rationally. Her heart was hammering. Her hands were trembling. She had to get a grip. Had to stop flying off the handle at him. Had to stop caring!
For years she’d managed to convince herself that she didn’t—that her three days of aberrant behavior with Flynn Murray had been some sort of alchemical reaction that would never be repeated.
And all it had taken was the sight of him standing on her doorstep and she was in meltdown all over again.
It was the shock, that was all. He was the last person she’d expected to see when she’d opened the door this afternoon. And the sizzling awareness she’d felt when she’d seen him had caught her off guard.
She didn’t even want to think about what had happened when he’d kissed her!
But thinking about him with Liam wasn’t much better.
They were so much alike.
Sara had always known that Liam resembled his father. But without pictures—and try as she had to find any of him among all those taken during that hectic February weekend, she’d discovered none—she’d told herself Liam simply had his father’s coloring. After all, she occasionally saw glimpses of herself, her own father, her mom, even her brother Jack in her son.
But when Liam and his father were in the same room, she didn’t only see glimpses of Flynn in her son. He was almost a clone.
But even more than Liam’s features, it was his body language that was so much like his father’s. He moved like Flynn, with the same intensity of purpose. And when he was stymied, he even prowled
