by Elise Faber
Too much like what could have been.
When she returned to the States, she would leave the Midwest behind and head somewhere with warm winters and no humidity. Arizona. Or maybe California.
At least she’d be near the ocean.
Sighing, she pulled her backpack from underneath her seat and tried to shove down her nerves.
Colin was somewhere out there and she hadn’t seen him, in person at least, since their night together. Since he’d stormed away, leaving her heart and body aching and her eyes overflowing with tears.
But so much had changed since then.
She’d changed.
He wasn’t some mysterious Scottish hero that she’d get wrapped up in, and she definitely wasn’t the fragile young high school graduate who was all but looking for her heart to be broken.
Cecilia had fought through the pain of surgery and rehab, and she was prepared to get on with her life.
She was just going to have a little fun before responsibility bogged her down.
Ignoring the voice that was snidely whispering this was all very familiar and very much like her first visit to her beloved Scotland, CeCe followed the rest of the cattle off the plane, headed through passport control, waited for her suitcases, and then finally proceeded through customs.
Once through the gates, she paused to look around.
Somehow this airport felt more like home than her actual home had.
It was the place to start new adventures and also the place to end them with a broken heart and a huge cup of steaming hot tea—prescribed by the waitress who’d seen CeCe’s tearstained face on her return trip.
But it was also a place that reminded her she was brave and courageous.
She could fly halfway around the world by herself. She could be safe and strong and smart. She could navigate public transportation, try strange foods, and devour an entire box of shortbread.
She could be herself.
And more than anything else in the world at that moment, she needed to be herself.
“Cecilia.”
The voice sent prickles down her nape, her spine, her arms.
Whipping around, she saw Colin. He was taller, more muscled, and though his jawline was more rectangular—he’d lost any trace of boyish baby fat—his eyes were the same. Piercing blue and unfathomable.
Until they warmed.
“C’mere, sweetheart.”
She threw herself into his arms.
Twenty-Eight
Cecilia, present day
* * *
CeCe shrieked with joy as they went over a huge dune of snow. Dune? Was that even the correct word? She knew that there were sand dunes, but were there snow dunes?
Clearly, she’d been out of the Midwest and in California for too long if she couldn’t remember the correct term.
Pile?
Drift? Ah, yes! That was it.
They’d gone up and over, their sled bumping to the ground with a jolt that threatened to steal her breath, but then Colin had his arm around her waist, tucking her safely against his side and all of the hard muscles there. He was taking his job of keeping her safely in the basket very seriously, so her breathlessness was purely sexy Scot related.
Also, it was fun.
The dogs were barking as they towed the sled forward, little doggy smiles on their mouths, tails bouncing as they ran.
Adorable. If they weren’t so noisy, she’d almost want a team for herself.
Yup, that would be super practical in California.
Hold on Hunter and Carter, let’s jump on the sled and take the dogs down for a Happy Meal at McDonald’s.
Totally doable, right?
Colin leaned down, the stubble on his chin teasing the skin behind her left ear. “What are you smiling about?”
She turned her head and spoke directly into his ear, so he could hear her over the barking, knowing she had a giant grin on her face. “How much the kids would love this.”
His face softened but his eyes heated and that space between her thighs, the one that had just been pleasantly filled and stretched and pleased a few hours before went tight.
And wet.
And Colin apparently knew that because his lips curved up and his tongue flicked against that spot behind her ear that she really, really loved when he teased. “Later,” he said. “Later I’ll . . .”
And her jaw dropped open as he detailed every dirty thing he planned to do to her when they got back to their cabin.
Her pulse was pounding when he’d finished. Because, damn, his words were better than Abby’s chapter sixteen.
“But first,” he continued, “you’re going to enjoy your sledding and gold panning and then we’re going to have a nice dinner.”
“And a sauna?” she asked breathless.
“As long as you’re naked and in my arms,” he said, hand tightening on her waist.
Her lips tipped up even as her hand drifted down for a squeeze. “I think that can be arranged.”
“I’ve decided that I don’t like gold panning,” CeCe declared, falling back onto the bed.
Her arms ached, absolutely ached after an hour of shaking the pan from side to side and not finding anything more than silt, rocks, and mud.
“Not convinced you’ll find your fortune in the river?”
“Even if I’d been dreaming of finding a huge nugget, a la Sutter’s Mill, I think that this afternoon would prove I’d be crazy to continue with that fantasy.”
Colin smiled as he plunked down next to her and gathered her in his arms. “What’s Sutter’s Mill?”
“Oh,” Cecilia said, realizing that he probably wouldn’t know much about U.S. history or what had sparked the California Gold Rush. “I got on a Netflix documentary kick awhile back and watched a ton of historical ones. This dude named James Marshall found gold in the 1800s and people came flocking west.”
Colin kissed her forehead. “I like it when you say dude.”
“I’m apparently a true Californian now. I say it to mean man or woman, senior or child, and as a curse, a plea, or an exclamation.”
He nodded sagely. “You a master of all things dude-related.”
She smirked. “It’s funny to hear you say dude.”
“It’s not that common of a word in Scotland.”
CeCe rolled over in his embrace, settling atop of him with her chin resting on her folded arms. “But it has so many uses.”
“Apparently so.” He stroked a finger down her cheek. “But the marvelous uses of dude aside, are you okay?”
“I think so.” She paused, raising a finger when he started to open his mouth. “No. That’s not entirely true. I am okay, but I feel almost . . . flayed open? I don’t know how to describe it. Like I’m too vulnerable and I keep waiting—” She bit off the rest of her sentence, knowing the words weren’t entirely fair.
But even though they remained unsaid, Colin heard them anyway.
His eyes darkened. “You’re waiting for me to hurt you again.”
She hesitated.
He sighed and cupped the back of her neck, forcing her stare to his. “Dammit. I’m so sorry you were hurt, sweetheart, and I want to promise that it won’t happen ever again. That I won’t hurt you. But—”
“You can’t.” She stared into his blue eyes, seeing the truth there. It was obviously something he didn’t care to admit, but no one knew the future.
How could he promise to never hurt her?
It was unrealistic. Impossible.
People hurt each other all the time.
It’s just that . . . she really wanted that promise from Colin. No. What she really wanted was for it to be the truth. That he would magically transform into that mythical hero, sweep her off her feet, and they would ride off into the sunset.
But myths were myths for a reason.
They were stories. Fantasies.
Fantasies that are grounded in reality, her heart argued. That’s where fairy tales come from. There’s always a kernel o
f truth and reality within them.
And great, now she was bickering with herself over the future of a relationship that would probably never be.
“I want to be the man you deserve,” he whispered and the torment in his expression made her heart ache.
“I want that too,” she whispered back. “So, so much.”
Except she didn’t believe in fairy tales.
She couldn’t allow herself to.
Not any longer.
Twenty-Nine
Colin, present day
* * *
He watched Cecilia sleep, her chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths. There was no green in the sky tonight, but that hadn’t stopped her from staying up too late, waiting and hoping for the northern lights to make an appearance.
Of course the hotel had installed an “aurora alarm” in the cabin, one that would be activated if the aurora borealis made an appearance.
Not that CeCe trusted that.
She’d said the first night as they’d lay bundled up in their robes, lying under the glass roof, “I’ve waited my whole life to see this. I’m not trusting it to technology.”
Colin smiled at the memory.
She’d been like a kid on Christmas morning the first time the sky had lit that otherworldly green and it had made his heart catch, that little slice of the Cecilia of the past, the one who appreciated the beauty of the world. The one who’d stared endlessly over the cliffs near his home, studying the ocean and trying to commit the sounds of the waves breaking against the rocks to memory. It had reminded him of the girl who’d been captivated by the small details in a stained glass window, the one who’d so appreciated the curls and different shades of color in Bo’s mane that she’d spent long hours sketching every minute point.
That had been the woman he’d fallen for.
The one with a zest for life and who’d been so freely giving with her love and affections. She hadn’t been like the other women in his life, always calculating which power play would gain them the most or throwing a temper tantrum when they didn’t get their way.
Cecilia had been different.
And it had been their downfall.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, carefully sliding free of the mattress while being sure to keep CeCe covered with the blankets.
He had to make a call.
A long overdue one that would probably involve an apology.
Och. He hated apologies. Giving them, that was.
Quietly, he stuffed his feet into his boots and shrugged into his parka. He grabbed his phone from the side table before slipping through the front door.
Then he dialed a number he knew by heart. One he’d blocked six years before.
The sun was just rising over the horizon but it was already close to eight in the morning. Of course, Finland didn’t get much sun this time a year, and it would already be setting by one in the afternoon so there wouldn’t be much of a chance to soak up its rays.
But none of this had anything to do with the call he needed to make.
Except to delay the inevitable.
“Fuck,” he muttered again and pressed the green button on the screen.
Colin had a moment’s regret when he realized it was two hours earlier in Scotland, but by then the phone was already ringing.
And ringing.
And ringing.
Then going to Ewan Campbell’s voicemail.
“Well, fuck.” He started to shove the phone back into his pocket but it started vibrating and one glance at the screen had his gut churning.
The arsehole was calling him back.
He glanced heavenward for one long moment before swiping his finger across the screen. This was what he wanted. Right?
Right.
He put the phone to his ear. “Aye?”
“You’re a stubborn fuck, aren’t ye?” Ewan said.
God that voice was his childhood, and the longing it set off in his heart was almost shocking. It wasn’t a surprise that he’d missed the friend he’d grown up with, the one he’d gone off to Oxford with, but what was shocking was the depth of that emotion.
They’d shared so much and Colin didn’t realize until he’d heard Ewan’s voice how empty he’d been the last few years.
“Aye,” he agreed. “I think I might have misunderstood a few things.”
“A few—” Ewan broke off then continued with a lowered voice. “A few things?” he whispered. “You misunderstood a whole hell of a lot, Colin. And then wouldn’t let me or CeCe explain. Do you even remember what you did to her? What you said?”
Colin sighed. “No. And she won’t tell me.”
“You’ve seen her?” he exploded. “After everything, she’s let you near her?” There was a female voice in the background, a muffled protest. “Sorry, baby,” Ewan said and the sound of rustling filled the airwaves.
“Is this a bad time?” Colin asked.
“It’s barely six in the morning,” Ewan retorted. “That’s never a good time. Especially when a couple is dealing with all the demands of a newborn.”
Ewan had a kid?
“You’re married?”
Ewan sighed. “Two years now. And my son is six weeks old.”
“Fuck,” Colin murmured.
“I know,” Ewan agreed. “We’re getting old. Growing up.”
“I don’t know if that idiom can be applied to me,” he said. “Or not until recently, that is.”
A pause, then, “You’ve seen Cecilia?”
“We’re vacationing together.” He kept the explanation as simple as possible.
“So she trusts you.” Ewan bustled around in the background, turning on and off water as he filled a container. Probably for coffee. His friend had never been able to live without the caffeinated beverage.
“I don’t know that she trusts me.” Colin sighed and sank down onto the snowbank a few feet away from the cabin. “She’s waiting for me to hurt her again.”
“And you don’t want to hurt her?”
His spine went ramrod stiff. “What the fuck?”
Ewan spoke over the sounds of coffee percolating in the background. “Hurting Cecilia seems to be a pattern for you. She’s been happy and has a stable job. She’s made friends.”
“You’ve kept in touch with her.” His voice sounded dead, even to his own ears.
“Yes, Col. She needed someone to look after her.”
When you couldn’t, was the portion of his sentence that he left unsaid.
Colin heard it anyway.
“I was in a fucked up place. Not an excuse,” he hurried to say when Ewan started to speak. “I made my first fuck up right, but I can’t fix the hurts of the second one without knowing what I did.”
Silence.
Dammit. He dropped his head to his knees, a long tense quiet the only response to his words. At this point, he was ready to beg.
“Please, Ewan. I need you to tell me.”
A long breath hissed through the speakers of his phone. “It’s not pretty because to truly understand what happened you have to know what your mother and sister did.” A pause. “And what you said to her when you found out.”
And there was that other shoe dropping, no, crunching down right onto his fucking heart.
Thirty
Cecilia, five years and nine months before
* * *
Cecilia smoothed her fingers down over the lace bodice of the wedding dress she was wearing. “It’s too much, Bridget,” she said to her soon to be mother-in-law. “Thank you so, so much, but I couldn’t possibly accept this.”
The dress was absolutely beautiful and more gorgeous than anything she could have ever dreamed of. Long sleeves of delicate lace were interspersed with crystals and the sweetheart neckline emphasized her petite breasts in the best way—meaning they looked like actual breasts rather than the chest of a prepubescent boy—while somehow managing to minimize her shoulders that normally seemed so wide and ungainly.
Plus, it t
ucked in right where it should, highlighting her narrow waist with a crystal belt.
This dress was the stuff of actual dreams, but she and Colin weren’t having a big wedding and she’d just barely managed to pay off the last of her medical bills by selling some artwork online.
She’d already bought her own dress, and Colin’s parents had graciously offered to pay for a wedding breakfast—a nice bonus but, really, as long as she had Colin, she would be happy.
These last few months had been magical. She and Colin had spent nearly every moment possible together. They’d had a lovely week in Edinburgh, just the two of them getting to know one another again before he’d had to return to work. She’d followed him home, staying in the little room she’d rented once before and spending her days sketching and walking.
Her body finally felt strong again, and she could actually lift both arms straight over her head.
Winning! So much so.
And she’d never felt more so than after meeting Colin’s family.
They were amazing. So kind and caring. They’d welcomed her into the family without a thought. She’d known Colin had been nervous about introducing her because of some ancient feud with an American tradesman who’d screwed the family over, but that hadn’t come into play at all.
Bridget had made sure to include her in family events, proudly introduced her as her soon-to-be daughter after Colin had proposed, and case in point, was trying to spoil her with an amazing dress.
Of course, spending so much time with his family meant she and Colin hadn’t had a chance to have . . . well, to have a very specific type of one-on-one quality time. In a horizontal position, preferably on a mattress. Or not. Really, she was open at this point, her desire a real aching need that was desperate to be assuaged.
Only a few more days, she reminded herself. Then she and Colin could have yummy naked time again.
Her lips twitched, thinking of all the kisses and caresses they’d managed to slip in. There was something hot about sneaking around, even if they hadn’t been able to do everything they wanted. She hadn’t been ready when she’d first returned to Scotland and then when she finally had been, there never seemed to be more than a few private minutes.