by Carrie Elks
‘Then who?’
‘It will all become clear, I promise. But right now I can’t say any more. My lawyer insists on it.’ He winked at her.
‘I can’t believe you’re not going to tell me,’ she said, her mouth dropping open.
A smile danced around his lips. ‘Can’t you just be happy that Glencarraig will flourish?’
‘It’s important to you, isn’t it?’ she asked softly.
‘Yes, it is. It impressed this girl I once knew. I watched her fall in love with it, and when I saw it through her eyes, I fell for it too.’
‘She sounds like a fool,’ she whispered, her voice tight.
‘The most beautiful kind of fool,’ he said, curling his hand around the back of her neck. ‘The kind of fool you’d move mountains for. The kind of fool that keeps me awake at night, longing to talk to her, to touch her, to see her smile. The kind of fool I can’t stop thinking about.’
She swallowed. ‘She sounds fascinating, maybe I should meet her.’
‘I like to keep her for myself.’ He leaned forward, barely brushing his lips against hers. ‘She’s special.’ He breathed against her skin, making her shiver. ‘She’s clever, she’s funny, she drives me batshit crazy, but I’m already having a hard time imagining life without her.’
‘It’s a shame she lives so far away.’
He slowly shook his head. ‘I’m giving us a year, and then we’ll sort that, too. I like planes, but I like waking up with my girl more. And she is my girl.’
‘It sounds as though you’ve got it all worked out.’
‘I nearly lost her once, I don’t intend to do it again.’
‘She nearly lost you, too.’
The thought made his stomach twist. Being here with her felt so natural, he couldn’t believe they’d almost thrown it away. In the few hours they’d been back together, he’d become used to her voice, her words, her touch; to be without it would be painful.
‘And then she found me.’ He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘And everything was right with the world.’
She exhaled slowly. ‘If you keep talking like that, I might just fall for you.’
‘That’s good. I’ve already fallen, so I’ll be down there waiting to catch you.’ The moment was right, so right, and yet he hesitated. The words were on the tip of his tongue, demanding to be let out.
He looked at her, eyes closed, face relaxed. She was already his, he just needed to say it.
‘I love you.’ His voice was raspy, his throat like sandpaper.
She opened her eyes, meeting his deep-blue stare. ‘Do you know what you do to me when you say things like that?’
The band on his chest loosened. ‘The same thing you do to me.’ He smiled. ‘Let’s never stop doing it.’
‘That sounds good to me.’ She licked her lips. ‘And just in case you didn’t know, I love you too.’
‘Oh, I know.’ He winked.
‘You’re still a cocky bastard sometimes. aren’t you?’
He shrugged, the relief still making him grin. ‘Just sometimes?’
Slowly she nodded. ‘Yep. And don’t tell anybody,’ she lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘But I kind of like it.’
‘Does it make you want to tear off your clothes and throw yourself at me?’ he asked her.
‘Pretty much.’
He pressed his lips to hers, more firmly this time. Threading his fingers through her hair, he kissed her until her body started to vibrate against him.
‘Then be my guest,’ he murmured.
35
Come, gentlemen, I hope we shall drink
down all unkindness
– The Merry Wives of Windsor
‘I’m so glad you guys have worked things out.’ Jenn sat down on the sunlounger next to Lucy’s, huffing as she held her bump and swung her legs on to the chair. She and Grant had arrived in Miami the previous evening, having spent a few days looking for apartments near her new job at the University of Florida. While he and Lachlan spent the morning working in the business suite of the Greyson Hotel, Lucy had decided to take advantage of the warm sun, and had made her home next to the sparkling pool, overlooking the hotel’s private beach.
‘So am I,’ Lucy agreed, pulling her sunglasses over her eyes to block out the sun. ‘It was touch-and-go there for a while.’
‘Can I bring you ladies a drink?’ The waiter stopped beside them, clad in white shorts and a grey polo, a small insignia of the hotel stitched into the pocket.
‘Yes please. Can I have a daiquiri?’ Lucy smiled at him.
‘Sure.’
‘Very retro,’ Jenn teased. ‘And I’ll have a water, please. Notice how that almost rhymes with martyr? Which is exactly what I’ve been for the past six months.’
‘But it’ll all be worth it,’ Lucy said, watching as the waiter headed over to the pool bar. A shack, topped by what looked like a thatched roof, it had the 1980s cocktail scene written all over it.
‘So they tell me,’ Jenn said, her smile belying her dry tone. ‘Though it’s amazing how slowly the months have passed. It seems like forever since I last saw you.’
The waiter arrived, passing a tall glass of water to Jenn, then placing Lucy’s cocktail on the table beside her lounger. It was a deep red, topped with a strawberry and a straw, and of course there was an orange paper umbrella propped against the side of the glass. It looked deliciously kitsch.
‘So anyway, back to you and Lachlan,’ Jenn said, as Lucy sipped at her drink. ‘He’s a great guy, and you’re really good for him. Grant said he hasn’t seen him this happy in years. He says he has this goofy grin on his face in their meetings.’
Lucy couldn’t help but feel herself lighting up at Jenn’s words. He made her deliriously happy, too. Every time he walked into a room it felt as though the world started to make sense. Without him, she felt off-kilter.
‘Oh my God, you’re grinning, just like Lachlan.’ Jenn spluttered out the water she was drinking. ‘Man, you both have it bad.’
‘Yep,’ Lucy agreed. And she couldn’t find anything wrong with that.
‘Who has it bad?’ A shadow fell across them. Lucy looked up to see Lachlan standing at the end of her lounger, with Grant beside him. Both men were wearing suits, practical for business, completely impractical in the already-hot Miami sunshine. It was pushing eighty degrees, hot enough for Lucy’s body to take on a sheen of perspiration as she lay there. She watched as Lachlan’s gaze flickered to her, taking in the black and white bikini she was wearing, and the skin it revealed.
‘We do,’ Lucy said, her voice deadpan. ‘Lying here doing nothing is hard work.’
He sat down on the end of her lounger, lifting her feet onto his lap. His hands stroked her skin, caressing, touching. She giggled when he found a sensitive spot on her instep.
‘You know, you guys could have changed out of your suits,’ Jenn pointed out. ‘You look like sugar daddies or something.’
Lachlan caught Lucy’s eye. He smiled warmly at her, and she found herself grinning back. Was it always going to be like this? The intense attraction, coupled with the way she felt like she was the only woman he could see, was making her temperature rise more than the blazing sun. ‘Sugar daddies,’ he repeated, his eyes crinkling. ‘What does that make you ladies then?’
Lucy shrugged, still looking into his eyes. Behind him, there were a line of palm trees, separating the pool area from the beach. Beyond the stretch of pale golden sand, she could see the ocean, as vividly blue as his irises. ‘Maybe it makes us sensible.’
‘Which is a lot better than whores, which is where I think he was going,’ Jenn pointed out. ‘And anyway, we’re professional women, we make our own money. We don’t need you guys.’ She clocked Grant’s mock-wounded expression. ‘But luckily for you we want you anyway.’
Lachlan moved his hands from Lucy’s feet, caressing her ankles with slow circles of his thumb. As much as she and Jenn were making fun of their suits, somehow he managed to fit in with the
Miami vibe. Maybe it was the sunglasses slung casually in his suit pocket, or the way he’d taken off his tie and unbuttoned his crisp, white shirt. ‘You’re like a chameleon,’ she said to him, wiggling her feet with pleasure as he continued to massage her. ‘You fit in wherever you go. In New York you look all polished and businesslike, and here you look like a sexy lounge lizard. How do you do that?’
He tipped his head to the side. ‘How do I look when I’m in Scotland?’ he asked.
‘Cold,’ she said, trying to bite down a laugh.
‘You’re the one who gets cold,’ he pointed out. ‘Remember how you practically begged me to take you to my room? “Oh, Lachlan, I need your body heat.”’ His voice went up an octave, as he attempted a particularly bad impression of her.
She played with her lip between her teeth, studying him. ‘You’re the king of bullshit,’ she said, kicking him lightly in the side. ‘You’ve completely rewritten history. I was happy to freeze in my bed, you’re the one who carried me into your room.’
‘But you liked it.’
Yeah, she did. Even back then, when there was little more between them than a professional relationship, she’d felt drawn to him. As though there was an invisible cord between them, pulling them together. And now it felt stronger, more like iron than cotton. Unbreakable.
‘You two should really get a room,’ Jenn said, blocking out the sun with her hand over her eyes. ‘All this dopamine is making me feel crazy. It’s not fair to old married couples like us.’
‘We have a room,’ Lachlan said, his eyes never leaving Lucy’s. ‘In fact, we have two hundred.’
‘Well, could you use one of them?’ Jenn asked. ‘I love you guys, I really do, but this baby is precious.’ She rubbed her dome-like stomach. ‘I feel like I’m exposing him to porn.’
Lucy burst out laughing. The thought of climbing into the soft, cosy bed in their air-conditioned room really did sound attractive right then. But with Lachlan around, everything sounded attractive.
‘Are you going to be like that when we have kids?’ Lachlan asked. The words had barely escaped his lips when Jenn threw one of her sandals at him. She had a surprisingly good aim. Lachlan had to dodge to the side to avoid the flying shoe, catching it in his right hand before it sailed into the swimming pool.
But Lucy didn’t pay attention to any of that. She was too busy thinking about his words. When we have kids. They should scare her to death, make her want to run far far away. But instead she was lying there, her legs stretched out across the lap of the suited man in front of her, the man she’d come to realise she was falling crazy in love with.
Was it possible to have it all? For the first time, she really thought it might be.
This care home wasn’t so different from the one her father lived in, though the buildings were more suitable to the Floridian surroundings than a damp, grey London suburb. It had a different name, too – Assisted Living – where the emphasis was put on what the residents could do, rather than the round-the-clock medical care they also offered. Still, the staff wore uniforms, and as soon as they signed in at the desk they escorted them both to the air-conditioned day room, where Lachlan’s mother was sitting overlooking the gardens. It was filled with towering palm trees and flowering azaleas surrounding a sparkling blue lake. As they walked over to join her, Lucy was taken by the atmosphere in the room. People were laughing, playing chess and listening to music; there was a sense of life here that didn’t seem to exist in her father’s home. Maybe you really did get what you paid for.
Lachlan’s mother looked nothing like Lucy had expected. For a woman suffering from a chronic illness, she seemed remarkably alert, her hair perfectly arranged into a French knot, her make-up artfully applied to highlight her cheekbones and vivid blue eyes. Just like her son’s. Even the oxygen tank next to her, and the tubes looped around her face couldn’t disguise the beauty she’d once been.
‘You must be Lucy.’ She reached her hand up, taking Lucy’s and shaking it. Her voice was hoarse. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs —’ Oh God, what on earth should she call her? She’d never been a MacLeish after all, even if that was the name she’d given her son. And Lucy hadn’t thought to ask Lachlan what his mom’s surname was.
‘Please call me Lori.’ She gestured at the seats opposite. ‘Do sit down. Would either of you like a drink?’
Her accent sounded nothing like Lucy had expected, either. Her words were perfectly pronounced. If she closed her eyes, they could be sitting outside on the veranda of an old plantation house, drinking iced tea and gossiping about the local goings-on.
After their drinks arrived – waiter service, no less – Lucy found herself drinking the cool water and looking between mother and son. Though they had the same eyes, there was very little about Lachlan that spoke of his mother. He’d inherited most of his dark looks from the MacLeish side of the family.
As Lori gave them the run-down on her current condition, explaining the tests she’d had earlier in the week, Lucy watched the two of them interact, Lachlan’s expression soft, his voice gentle, and she found herself falling for him a little bit more.
There was something very sexy about a man who took care of his mother. Maybe it was the hope he’d take care of her, too. Or maybe it was just seeing yet another side to him that warmed her. Her chameleon man with many faces.
‘Lachlan tells me you’re a lawyer,’ Lori said, turning to her.
‘That’s right,’ Lucy said, placing her glass down on the table beside her. ‘I work for a small firm in Edinburgh.’ She noticed her fingers were shaking as she released her glass. What the hell was wrong with her?
‘Do you enjoy it?’
She nodded. ‘I do, for the most part. It’s hard work, but what good job isn’t? Plus I studied a long time to get where I am, so I’m trying to enjoy it.’
‘Do you think you’ll always live in Scotland?’ his mother asked. Lucy looked up at Lachlan, alarmed. She could see he was biting back a smile.
‘Mom,’ Lachlan said, as though he’d let Lucy suffer for long enough, ‘what kind of question is that?’
His mother shrugged, her shoulders thin beneath the silk fabric of her blouse. ‘I’m just interested. You’re not getting any younger, Lachlan. I want to know if you intend to settle down over here or over there.’
It was his turn to look uncomfortable. Lucy probably would have enjoyed his awkwardness more if she didn’t feel the same way herself. When was the last time she’d been taken home to meet the parents? She could barely remember.
‘What Lucy and I decide to do, and where we decide to live, is our business.’ His voice remained indulgent. ‘And when we do decide, you’ll be the first to know.’
He looked up from his mother, and over at Lucy. His eyes were warm, enough to calm Lucy’s nerves. Every time their eyes met she found herself wanting to touch him, to feel him. Not very appropriate when they were visiting his mother.
There was something about the way he said ‘we’ that made her feel all gooey inside – and she liked it a little too much. It reflected the way she felt about him, that it was the two of them, separated from the world by an invisible barrier. And whatever they decided, they’d decide together.
‘I suppose I’m not allowed to ask if she wants babies, either?’
‘Shall we talk about something else?’ Lachlan suggested. ‘Maybe we can discuss world politics, or the economy, or something less contentious like that?’
Lucy felt the corner of her lip twitch. There was that baby question again.
It was strange how it already seemed less frightening, as though exposure to it was lessening the shock. And deep inside her – in the part of her she was still barely acknowledging – the thought of making anything with this gorgeous, funny, strong man sent a delicious shiver through her body.
For her whole life, she’d been looking for control. Funny how the moment she let go of it, good things had s
tarted to happen.
An hour later, they were walking through the parking lot, her hand neatly tucked into his. He was half a step ahead of her as they weaved past the cars, ducking and dodging the wing mirrors as they made their way from the home. Though it was late afternoon, the heat of the day was still clinging on, warming up the wool of his suit jacket, and making the tiny hairs stick to the back of his neck.
‘You’re still here,’ he said, as they reached his car. For a moment he savoured the minor miracle.
‘Where else would I be?’ She tipped her head to the side, her face curious.
‘I thought my mom might have scared you.’ He tugged at her hand, pulling her closer until the front of her body was only inches from his. ‘All that talk of settling down and having babies, I thought it might send you heading for the hills.’