Now that I was closer and wasn’t at risk of inadvertently steering the car off a cliff, I took the time to look at all the lights dancing rhythmically around the contours of our cottage.
Our charming, secluded home looked like a gingerbread house in the middle of the glen. I turned off the car impatiently, bolted out of the vehicle, and hurried up to the front door just as my husband came through the door.
His smile was the best welcome home; it sent a rush of adrenaline through my body, and I had no doubt it was the one of best things I would ever see for as long as I lived.
I ran into his arms as the chilly evening air hit my cheeks. His smile grew even bigger, and as I clashed against his hard chest, he wrapped me in his warm embrace and kissed me on top of my head.
“Merry Christmas, Sam,” he whispered in my ear.
There was nothing like the feeling of sheer happiness when you were in the arms of the person you loved the most. I nestled my head in the crook of his neck, his frame surrounded by a halo of Christmas lights. I could have stayed like that forever . . . or at least until my teeth started chattering.
“Fairytale princes got nothing on you, Hugh MacLeod.”
He leaned down to kiss me, his lips barely brushing against mine. I let him, but then I suddenly remembered how I’d made myself sick over the fact that he’d lied to me.
All because he wanted to surprise me.
I pulled back as he tried to capture my mouth with his, and he gave me a confused look, eyebrows drawn.
I let out a breath and pursed my lips together.
“I want to kiss you, but I also want to punch you.”
A hearty, surprised laugh escaped his lips, and then he let me go and opened his arms out in surrender, as if he welcomed a punch from me.
“Go for it. I can take it.”
“Relax. I’m just kidding, but you did have me worried sick, you know.”
I looked past him, at the lights on the house that filled my eyes and made my heart swell in my chest. On set, everyone had been so ready to go home for the holidays that I had been missing a bit of the holiday cheer. If there was one thing I had been missing about home, it was having the house decorated.
We had no time to get a tree or do anything. Plus, we were going to leave for the holidays, so it seemed pointless to get the cottage decked out if we weren’t going to be there.
Hugh must have sensed I was missing something.
I looked up at him as the emotion bubbled up in my chest all over again and my eyes got misty.
Maybe it was because I always loved Christmas, but I felt terribly emotional.
What is wrong with me?
He took my hand and we circled around the house, looking at every corner of the cottage.
“I can’t believe you did this. Did you do it all by yourself?”
“Winston helped. I couldn’t find a company that would be willing to come all the way out here to hang a few lights, so . . .”
“Oh.” Winston had been on my shit list ever since he’d put Hugh on a very strict diet at the beginning of season two; now I would have to thank him.
“That was nice of him to help you.”
“You know the man is always up for a challenge.”
I cocked an eyebrow in response, because I did know that. He had a knack for challenging my husband to the most taxing fitness routines.
I took my husband’s hands in mine and gave them a gentle squeeze.
“Hugh, this is wonderful. Thank you. I love it so much.”
“I’m glad you do, Sam. I know you’re happy here, but sometimes I do worry if ye miss home even a wee bit. I figured ye would probably like to keep some of your traditions here, ye ken.”
“But why did you have to lie to me? I don’t understand.”
“So I could see this,” he replied in a proud, solemn tone as he reached for my face and cradled my jaw with his warm hand. “You have no idea how amazing your face looks when you’re surprised. I don’t think I will ever forget the way you looked at me when I sang to you at that Oscars party, or the way you reacted when I told you this place was ours. The look on your face when I proposed to you—I don’t ever want to forget it.”
I let out a sigh of contentment. I knew what he meant.
It was the same for me. I still remembered the way he’d looked at me as I made my way down the aisle, still remembered the look of stupor on his face and his dazzling smile.
“Oh, Hugh. Every time I think I couldn’t love you more than I do already, you do something that tops everything else.” Tears threatened to spill all over again.
What is it with the waterworks today?
Then I reflected on how completely swoon-worthy the situation was; only a heartless person wouldn’t be moved by such a beautiful, romantic gesture, right?
I reached for his lips, and this time I didn’t hold back.
CHAPTER 3
HUGH
I’D GOTTEN the idea when we decided to spend the holidays with my parents.
We’d been telling each other Christmas tales. I, in particular, had several about my brothers to choose from, and Sam told me about growing up in a family that had a very relaxed, LA take on Christmas. The Farouks still celebrated the holiday, even though neither one of her parents was religious.
Her father’s family practiced Hinduism, but according to Sam, my father-in-law questioned the religion his family practiced. He didn’t understand how you were supposed to accept a god who said not all people were equal and embrace a religion and lifestyle that divided people into a caste system.
When her father’s family moved to the UK in the sixties, he began to distance himself from everything he’d been taught, and once he moved to the US, he eventually embraced a more laic idea of God.
Sam’s mother, on the other hand, had a more “go with the flow” vibe. She didn’t want her children to be the anomaly and to not have common things like a Christmas tree or presents, so she celebrated it even though she wasn’t completely sold on the concept.
From what Sam told me, her mother had always been adventurous when it came to religion. She’d considered becoming Jewish for a while, and had even embraced Kabala at the end of the nineties when celebrities like Madonna had made the religion popular.
Sam told me how over the years, her dad and her siblings had gotten more and more involved in the Christmas lights competition held in her subdivision.
She’d told me, “We took second place many times, but never won. The Carters won every single year—every year, Hugh! It was the most absurd thing. We were damn good at it. Eventually, we just got tired of participating. If you ask Amira, she’ll tell you the whole thing was rigged. She still holds a grudge about it.”
I knew my Sam loved me, but I realized it was going to be her first year without her family so I needed to make it extra special.
Thankfully, my Christmas lights idea was well received.
“I would love to stay out here and stare at the lights all night, but I’m pretty sure we’ll both get sick if we don’t go inside right now—well, maybe not you, but I will definitely get pneumonia again.”
I hadn’t thought about it. The previous month, after a couple of nights spent outside for night shoots, Sam had gotten sick. I could fare the temperamental Scottish weather, but she wasn’t used to it yet, and it didn’t help that she’d already had a cold when we had to do the night shoots. It had only degenerated from there, and she’d needed to get antibiotics to clear the infection up.
“You’re right, we should go inside. It’s too late for you to be out here, especially with how sick you got last month. Let’s go inside, wife.”
I LAZILY TURNED to my side and stared at the silhouette of her body as she looked out the window. We’d left the lights on, and they kept blinking on and off.
I looked at my wife’s beautiful body, my eyes taking in her black, silky hair cascading down her back, the profile of the swell of her breasts, her small waist, and that arse I c
ouldn’t get enough of. I licked my lips as she turned around and smiled at me, beautiful and perfectly happy.
That was all I wanted—to make her happy for the rest of my life.
My cock twitched as she glanced at me and her eyes darkened, noticing my desire for her had me hard all over again.
She turned around and pressed herself against the window. A sigh escaped her lips and her glance moved from my eyes to my hard cock.
A small laugh escaped her lips and a mischievous smile brightened her face.
“Oh, MacLeod. You are quite . . . insatiable.”
“You should know that by now, Sam.” My tone was playful, but I didn’t mean to just tease her. I was planning on taking her again. In the morning, we’d go to my parents’ house, and I was already mourning the lack of privacy.
“I know that,” she replied, her voice husky. She ran a hand over her breast, teasing her nipple, staring at me. She parted her legs slightly, pressing her arse against the wall under the window. Her other hand moved down between her lips and she started pleasuring herself, which only made me harder and hornier for her.
I reached down and stroked my cock, but it wasn’t enough.
I had to have her.
She closed her eyes, head rocked back against the window as she moved her fingers faster against her clit.
I couldn’t wait any longer. I got up and walked toward her.
“My wife is so fucking sexy,” I growled as I pressed my body against hers. I traced her lips with my thumb, her eyes open, hazy with lust and need. She took my thumb in her mouth and sucked it, slow and hard.
My dick twitched, pressed against her entrance. She wrapped a hand around the base and started stroking it, the other one still between her legs.
“Let me do that, lass. Let me see you come,” I told her as I used my left hand to tease her wet center.
“Oh, fuck,” she moaned as I brought her over the edge, moving my fingers faster. “I want you inside of me. I need you inside of me,” she mumbled.
I brought my right hand down to her breast and pinched her nipple as she cried out against my mouth.
“You,” she whispered as she stroked me faster to keep up with me. “Inside me, right now. I need all of you.”
“You have me, mo chridhe.”
“More . . . more of you.”
My fingers didn’t slow down as my mouth covered hers, my tongue brushing around hers over and over, tasting her, feeling her moan into my mouth as she gripped one of my shoulders tight.
She broke the kiss and cried out in pleasure, her hair splayed across the glass of the window. The vision of her, spent as she came down from her climax, sent me into overdrive. I grabbed her hips and flipped her over, giving her what she’d been asking for.
We’d been living together five months and married for three, but when it came to her, it always felt like I suffered from unquenchable thirst.
I needed her, always. I wanted her more than words could explain.
The yearning I had for her was endless.
I caressed her arse, kneading the skin before I pressed against her entrance and filled her with one thrust. She moaned as she balanced herself on the edge of the window, the lights outside blinking all around us. Red and blue glimmers danced before my eyes as I thrust deeper into her.
I brushed her hair away from the side of her face and trailed kisses on her cheek and neck as I brought a hand up to her bouncy breasts. I could see a faint reflection of her face in the window, eyes closed and mouth open in ecstasy.
Seeing her come undone turned me on even more.
I wasn’t going to last much longer. She was already close, so I increased the tempo and then thrust one last time, getting lost inside of her.
I rested my head for a few seconds and then lifted her up in my arms.
She gasped and brought a hand to her forehead.
“Something wrong?” I asked, panting, still coming down from my own high.
“No, just a bit of a head rush.”
Later, under the covers, I traced lazy circles on the perfect curve of her hips as she laid her head on my shoulder. Nothing could surpass the beauty of lying together skin to skin after we’d given each other one of earth’s greatest pleasures.
“Hey, Sam? Wife?”
She laughed, and her breath tickled my skin.
“What is it, husband?” she asked in a low, sleepy voice.
“Are we supposed to be over the honeymoon phase?” I asked her.
Sam lifted her head up and looked me in the eye. She brushed away my hair, her eyes reassuring.
“Hugh, I’ve been in the honeymoon phase with you ever since the first time you touched my body. As far as I’m concerned, I will always love you and want you the same way, if not more. I told you earlier, remember? Every time I think I couldn’t love you more, you go and raise the bar even higher. I don’t see how it would ever be possible for me to want you or love you less.”
She kissed me, her hand cupping my jaw. Her kiss was slow and deep, as if she were trying to reach inside my soul.
When she broke the kiss, she let out a laugh, as if she also seemed surprised by the intensity of it.
“My body is yours, as is my soul, until the day I die. That is not going to change, ever, mo gradh.”
CHAPTER 4
SAM
“I’M SAD TO LEAVE. You made the place even cuter with all the lights, and now I’m supposed to spend two weeks away? Can we leave them on after Christmas? So we can enjoy them a little longer?”
“We can do whatever we want,” my husband said with a reassuring smile as he loaded our bags in the trunk of the car.
“Until Easter?” I asked, cocking one eyebrow.
“Easter? Really? We’ll see.”
“I’ll tell you what we should do—we should have a huge party when season two wraps up. The weather should be nice enough by then, and then we have New York.”
“Are you sure you want to come with me? Would you rather go somewhere else, spend some time with your mother?”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll make a trip to LA, but don’t worry about me—I can find plenty of things to do in New York. I promise I won’t be in your way,” I teased, and he made a face.
“That’s now what I meant.”
“I know,” I replied with a smile.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned down to kiss me, but all of a sudden, something was off.
I broke into a cold sweat, and the same queasy, familiar feeling from the day before made an appearance once again. I pressed my lips against his, hoping I wasn’t getting sick. I didn’t want to spend our only time off in bed, and I didn’t want to get him sick, either. We’d been looking forward to our vacation time for so long.
“Ready to go?” he asked, looking at me like I was the best thing he’d ever seen.
I gave his hand a squeeze and nodded.
“Let’s go see the MacLeods.”
I was excited to see Fiona and Angus along with my rowdy brothers-in-law, yet I grimaced when we passed the Scottish border. I felt uneasy as we left “home”.
Scotland had always been Hugh’s home, and I had grown incredibly attached to it, moody weather and all.
Scotland was one of those places you inexplicably felt connected to after spending some time there. There was something in the breathtaking beauty of the landscapes that called out to you, urged you to come home, even when it wasn’t your place of birth.
How unbelievable that this magical land and the people who inhabited were once called “barbarians” by the British. If there was anything barbaric about Scotland, it was the violent, unapologetic way it got under your skin.
Even though I would probably struggle with the climate for the rest of my life, there was no other place that had such a calming effect on my soul.
I’d realized it even more after Amira had visited us a few months before and had mentioned it herself. My sister was right; there was no other place in the world tha
t made me feel this way, not even the city I’d called home my entire life.
Was it just because it was where my husband was from? Was I so attached to it just because of him? For some reason, I didn’t believe that was the case.
The queasy feeling in my stomach was back again as we left the Highlands, as if part of me was already homesick. I laughed to myself, thinking how just the year before, I’d been homesick for sunny LA.
How quickly things change.
“What’s funny?” Hugh asked with a curious, amused look.
I smiled, a bit embarrassed.
“This might sound strange, especially coming from me, but . . .we’ve been out of Scotland all of thirty minutes and I already feel homesick.”
His grin was small at first, and then it stretched big and bright across his face, a proud, unabashed smile. He took my hand and brought it up to his mouth, the touch of his lips on my skin making me shiver. Yes, a simple touch from him could still affect me the same way it had when we were flirting and my yearning for him was just beginning to grow.
He noticed and gave me a glance full of mischief. He held my hand in his as he put his eyes back on the road.
“I ken what ye mean. It’s the same for me. I wish my parents were still in Edinburgh. I’m ready for my father to retire so they can move back and we can spend the holidays in Scotland.”
“I’ve never felt this way about a place before. Even when I missed LA, it was my family and my routine I missed the most, but Scotland . . . it does a number on you. It’s like something that becomes part of you, and you can’t shake it.” My voice was low, and I felt like I was rambling. “I’m sorry, I’m probably not making any sense.”
Hugh shook his head and smiled. “I do understand ye, Sam. It’s the same for me, about Scotland, ye ken, and it’s the way I’ve always felt about you,” he said in a husky tone. He smiled wickedly at me, the corners of his lips curled up in the smile I loved.
I laced my fingers with his and kissed his hand.
THE SCENERY of the British countryside was quite different from what we were accustomed to, but if there was one thing both the UK and Scotland had in common, it was how green the fields were.
A Scottish Christmas (Lost in Scotland Book 3) Page 2