Love Everlastin' Book 3

by Mickee Madden

  Winston pulled her into his arms and captured her mouth in a passionate kiss. He cast off his doubts and insecurities for a time and basked in the glorious sensations the smell and feel of her awarded him. Her body conformed to his, molding with his with such rightness, he believed they were one inseparable force. His hands explored the softness of her hair, the curve at the base of her spine and the firm roundness of her buttocks. All the while her arms remained tightly fastened about his middle, clinging to him as if she planned to never let go.

  He went with an impulse and gingerly brushed the backs of the fingers of his right hand against one of her wings. She drew back her head, a gasp escaping her parted lips. She stared into his eyes with wonder, her face aglow and more beautiful than he'd ever seen her. It left him breathless and giddy at the same time, and he stroked the wing once more. This time she closed her eyes and gave a sweet moan of ecstasy.

  "Does it feel good when I touch yer wings?"

  He actually didn't need to ask, for the answer had already been given him. But he nonetheless had voiced the query, and was glad he had when she replied, "Almaist as good as havin’ ye inside me," she breathed, gazing into his eyes with passion and such love, his heart skipped a beat.

  "Winston, may I lie wi' ye, tonight?"

  Again his heart began to hammer wildly behind his breast. "Only lie wi' me?" he teased.

  A humorous, chiding gleam sparkled in her eyes. "No, ma handsome Scotsmon. I'll have ye in me. I'll pleasure ye till the sun winks over the horizon, then till dusk readies the cloak o' night. And I promise ye, Winston, ye will never regret the havin’ o' me. When the time comes for us to part, ye will walk away wi' no hurt or guilt in yer heart."

  Winston wanted to swoop her up into his arms and carry her to his bedroom, but instead, he kissed her with the longing that had been festering inside him for what seemed an eternity. He didn't want her to think he was merely after her body. A quick fix to the libido had never been his style. But the sweetness and soft texture of her mouth carried him away. His hands began to draw up her nightgown, the tension in his fingers to touch her private place, maddening. But when he'd gotten the hemline to her hips, there came a hard rap on the door. He released Deliah immediately, and she jumped back and dropped her hemline to her ankles as the door slowly opened.

  "Winston?"

  It was Roan. Deliah blushed and Winston scowled.

  "Wha', Roan?"

  The door opened enough for Roan to step onto the threshold. He appeared ill-at-ease to interrupt the couple, but forced a small smile and stated, "Lannie and I decided to try to make it to Shortby's. Interested in joinin’ us?"

  Winston glanced at the dial of his watch. It was not quite eleven. "When does it close?"

  "Three in the morn. We just need to get away from the house for a time," said Roan.

  Winston glanced at Deliah. He was surprised to see she had retracted her wings. Wariness shadowed her face, and her eyes searched his with a question he didn't want to answer.

  "I'll join you," he said to Roan, although his head remained turned and his gaze riveted on Deliah.

  The light went out of her eyes at his words, and her expression became instantly guarded. Sorrow wafted from her and he absorbed it despite his reluctance. At this time, he didn't want to explain to her that joining the men at Shortby's would give him the chance to discuss his situation with them. A chance to sort through his choices. What she didn't know—and he blocked from his mind—was that if he did make love to her again, there would never be anyone but her in his life. Children or no, he would commit only to her.

  For a reason he couldn't begin to explain even to himself, he wanted Roan and Winston's approval.

  "Are you sure?" Roan asked hesitantly.

  Winston nodded and faced Roan. "Wi' three o' us, we should be able to get ma car onto the road."

  "Beats walkin’ to town." Roan dipped his head and smiled a bit nervously at Deliah. "We'll watch over him."

  Winston turned to Deliah and, although she stiffened and turned her face aside, telling him she didn't want to be touched, he kissed her tenderly on the cheek. "We'll talk when I return."

  There was a hardness in her eyes when she again looked at him, one that surprised and unnerved him. Without another word, he followed Roan into the hall. Deliah trailed behind them, her shoulders sagging, her movements lethargic. Lachlan was waiting in the hall by the parlor door, a full-length coat lending the illusion that he was taller and broader than he actually was. He smiled broadly when he saw Deliah and held out the crystal paperweight.

  "Thank you, lass," he said cheerily. "It means a lot to—"

  A spark of what looked like blue electricity manifested inside the crystal and it exploded with a soft fssst into a thousand segments. Lachlan's leveled palm was not injured, but the diamondlike fragments were scattered everywhere on the floor.

  Three pairs of eyes stared at her in disbelief, while Deliah remained unmoved by her actions. Lachlan's expression crumbled to one of disappointment, and he murmured something in Gaelic the others couldn't understand.

  "I'll sweep this up," said Roan, brushing past Deliah and heading into the kitchen.

  Winston ran upstairs to fetch his coat. Lachlan stared at Deliah for a time, as if trying to understand her motive for destroying one of his treasures.

  She had none. She didn't understand what had happened, only knew that she had released the burst of energy and was guilty of shattering the piece.

  Within minutes, the crystals were swept up and tossed in the trash can in the kitchen, Winston returned downstairs with his coat and gloves on, and Lachlan had sufficiently recovered and was eager to leave the house. They left by way of the kitchen door, which faced the street where Winston had parked.

  Deliah waited in the hall until she heard the kitchen door close, then went out on the stoop and forlornly watched the men brazen a precarious path down the hillside to the road. For an undeterminable time, she observed them brush off the car and scrape the windows free of snow and ice once Winston had gotten the engine to turn over.

  With the shovel Roan had brought along, they alternated shoveling and rocking and pushing the car, shoveling and rocking and pushing until, at last, the vehicle was out of its winter bed and on the road. One of them released a howl of glee. Then they were all inside the car and driving off toward Crossmichael. When Deliah could no longer see the tail lights, she burst into uncontrollable tears.

  "Deliah?"

  Laura stepped aside and Deliah dashed into the kitchen, her weeping so painful, she couldn't speak. When Laura soothingly drew her into her arms, Deliah wept against the woman's shoulder, great, shuddering sobs racking her chilled form.

  "What happened?"

  After a moment, Deliah managed, "They be gone."

  "Who?" Gripping Deliah's upper arms, Laura held her back to see her face. "Who, Deliah?"

  "Winston, Lachlan, and Roan."

  "Gone where?"

  "Someplace called Shortby's."

  Sucking in a shuddering breath, Deliah walked to the small table against the wall and sat in one of the two chairs. "We were goin’ to make love. Then Roan asked him to join him and Lachlan. He didna even hesitate, Laura."

  Her face pale and taut, Laura angrily tapped a foot on the floor. "Shortby's, huh? Roan didn't even have the decency to tell me he was going out."

  "Decency?" Deliah smirked. "There be no decency in how we be treated. I bear ma heart and soul, only to be put off by the prospect o' mair drink."

  "They were drinking before they left?"

  "Aye. In the ither room wi' the bottles o' drink."

  "The bar?"

  Deliah nodded.

  "What in hell is so appealing about Scotch?" Laura cried with frustration.

  "Tis a monly thing, they believe. A bondin’ ritual." Deliah sighed, miserable. "Tis foul tastin’ and burned ma insides."

  "Don't tell me they had you drinking with them?"

  "No. I snuck-ed a tast
e some time ago. Laura?"

  "What?"

  "Have we no recourse? How does a human female deal wi' this kind o' hurtin’?"

  "We get even," Laura said heatedly.

  Beth entered the kitchen in time to see Laura place a large silver tray on the table. Deliah, sitting at the chair nearest the windows, looked up and gestured for Beth to join them. Laura pulled out a third chair from the corner and placed it at the table, then sat as Beth seated herself between the two women.

  "I was going to go up and invite you to join our tea party," said Laura.

  Three cups, three spoons, a tall silver tea pot, creamer and bowl of sugar were atop the tray. There was also a bowl of warm brownies with chunks of walnuts visible in the rich chocolate treats.

  "I have to pass," Beth said woefully, her mouth watering for both the tea and the brownies.

  "Not even a little tea and a nibble of brownie?"

  "Laura, it'll give the babies gas."

  Laura wrinkled her nose. "Is there something else I can get you?"

  "No, thanks." Beth yawned and excused herself. "I need to turn in soon. These two-to-three hour feedings are draining me. I can't remember what sleep is."

  "How old are babies before they start sleeping all night?" Laura asked.

  "I have no idea."

  "I canna help, either," Deliah murmured.

  "Deliah, is something wrong?"

  Deliah managed a smile for Beth, but before she could respond, Laura filled Beth in on what had happened. When Beth heard that the men had taken off to Shortby's, she closed her eyes for a moment and clenched her teeth.

  "I swear the boys are less trouble than our men," said Laura, fuming. She filled two of the cups with steaming tea and passed one to Deliah. "Dammit, we were almost robbed tonight! So much for our gallant protectors worrying about us being alone in the house."

  "Was Lachlan drunk when they left?" Beth asked Deliah quietly.

  "Glowing a wee, but no' drunk-ed."

  Beth gulped painfully. "I don't know what to do, anymore. I'm tired and I'm fed up. But it's not like I can just pack up the twins and leave, is it? I have no identity, no money, and no place to go."

  "You're right," said Laura. "You are in a bad position. Hell's bells, aren't we a threesome. I'm the reincarnation of a murderess. You're just back from the dead." Laura sighed deeply as her gaze settled on Deliah. "And you're a fairy."

  Hearing it all said aloud, Beth laughed. "God, how bizarre can we get!"

  "The Three Weirdateers," Laura said wryly.

  "Hmm." Beth fell thoughtfully silent for a time. "I just don't know what to do, but I can't stay here. This is Lachlan's house, and yours and Roan's home. I don't belong."

  "I do," said Deliah in a husky tone. "This house is built on wha' remains o' ma clan's kingdom, and I'll no' leave."

  "The three of us are staying," Laura said with a frown. "We have as much right to be here as any of the men. I can't. . .I can't believe they just took off to have themselves a good ol' time, and left us here to wait for them like dutiful, subservient little wives."

  "Tis cold to us they be," said Deliah.

  The room fell silent for a time. Then the grandfather clock on the second floor could be heard bringing in the midnight hour. Pensively, the women listened until the last chime echoed through the house, then Beth released a sigh of such desolation, Laura and Deliah focused their attention on her.

  "I just want Lachlan back," she said softly, mistily staring off into space. "We went through so much to get where we were. Everything seems so out of place now."

  Laura nodded. "He certainly isn't adjusting to fatherhood, is he," she stated, staring into the remains of the cup cradled in her hands. "I guess I'm a helluva one to talk." She gave a nervous chuff. "When I realized I was going to be raising the boys, I panicked. I felt as if someone had snatched away my life and handed me something alien and confining. Now, I can't imagine what my life would be like without them."

  Unexpectedly, Deliah burst into tears. She lowered her face into her hands and had herself a good cry before pulling herself together. Breaths hitching, shivers coursing through her, she lifted her head and hastily wiped away the moisture on her face with her hands. "I dinna know wha' be wrong wi' me," she managed, her voice hoarse and shaky. "Either I want to cry or ma temper is on the wing."

  Beth chuckled. "On the wing. I like that."

  New tears sprang to Deliah's eyes, but she made a valiant bid to smile through them. "I be so confused, lately. I keep thinkin’ about ma clan, ma family. Especially ma brither. I so miss him. And I keep thinkin’ he would know how I should deal wi' Winston. But I canna ask him, can I?"

  A new rush of tears streamed down her cheeks. "They all be lost to me, and I dinna like how lonely be ma days and nights. Tis no' fair the heart should feel such pain."

  "Oh, hon," Beth consoled, "it won't always be like this. Relationships are never easy. All your problems will work themselves out."

  "She's right," Laura said. "Roan and I have had our ups and down. But the ups outweigh the downs, and always will. Love is never painless, Deliah. And you do have family. Here, with us."

  "I cry too easily these days," Deliah sniffed then flashed a smile capable of warming the coldest winter's night. Heaving a fortifying breath, she straightened her shoulders. "I know Winston loves me. As much as his moods frustrate me, I wouldna have him change to please me." She sighed again. "I have so much to learn abou' humanness, it be scary."

  "With the exception of evoking magic and sprouting wings, you're as human as we are," said Beth.

  "Ye be too kind, Beth."

  "Again, Beth is right," Laura piped up, smiling warmly at her companions. She lifted her teacup for a toast. Deliah raised hers, and Beth poured a little tea into the cup that had been reserved for her use. "To the Three Weirdateers! May we conquer every hurtle life tosses at us!"

  "Here, here!"

  "Aye!"

  To Beth and Deliah's dismay, Deliah broke into wretched sobs.

  Frowning, Laura said, "If Winston walked through that door right now, I swear I would knock him upside the head with a frying pan."

  To the women's further bewilderment, Deliah began to laugh. And she laughed and laughed, the sound not quite ringing true of mirth, but she couldn't seem to stop.

  "It's going to be a long night," Laura sighed.

  Chapter 14

  Practically falling out of the back passenger side of Winston's Audi, Lachlan raised his arms above his head and released a whoop of glee that reverberated through the star-canopied night. Winston and Roan continued to laugh at the laird's enthusiasm at riding in a "motor vehicle", the latter brushing tears from his cheeks as he unfolded from the front passenger seat. From the get-go, Lachlan had loved every glide, slide, stop, and go throughout the drive into town. He'd even marveled at the heater, which actually hadn't begun to blow warm air until a few minutes before pulling into Shortby's car park.

  "I want to drive across all o' Scotland!" Lachlan roared joyously, turning in place, his arms still raised. "Across the whole bloody world—"

  His voice hitched when his feet went out from under him and he slammed to the icy ground on his left side. Even this struck him funny and, rolling to a spread-eagle position on his back, he laughed until its throes formed a painful stitch in his side.

  "Och, he's lost his mind," Roan laughed. With him taking Lachlan's left hand and Winston the right, they hauled him to his feet. "Steady old mon," Roan cautioned.

  "Dinna call me old," Lachlan wheezed then burst into another round of laughter.

  By the time the three men arrived at the front door of the establishment, they'd calmed somewhat. Leading the way, Roan opened the door and directed his companions toward the bar counter. Nine patrons were enjoying the cozy warmth of the interior, three of whom were embroiled in a game of darts. All eyes, including those of Silas MacCormick, the owner and bartender who was behind the counter, turned on the trio.

  "Silas,
ma mon," Roan said merrily, "how the bloody hell have you been?"

  "No' as good as you, it seems," said Silas, his blue eyes crinkled in a smile of greeting. He nodded to Winston. "Mr. Connery. Pleasure to see you again."

  Winston smiled in return and sat to Roan's left on one of the stools. Both men glanced at Lachlan, whose face was aglow with wonder as he scanned the large room and took in every detail from the country decor to the watchful patrons.

  "Sweet Jesus, tis all so much to absorb," Lachlan said jubilantly. He shrugged out of his heavy coat and finally sat to Winston's left, a ludicrously wide grin offered to the bartender as he laid his coat across his lap.

  Comically, his white eyebrows arched, Silas looked at Roan and gave a slight nod in Lachlan's direction. "Now here's a character," the old man grinned. His gaze swerved to regard Lachlan's full-sleeved shirt. "Would you be on yer way to a masquerade, sir?"

  Lachlan smacked his chest with an open palm then flung his arms out wide. "I live in a masquerade, ma good mon, and I've a wicked thirst. I'll have a pint o' bitter, if you please."

  "Coming right up. Roan? Mr. Connery?"

  "Winston, please."

  The old man scrunched up his face thoughtfully. "I don’t think we carry tha' brand."

  To Roan and Winston's embarrassment, Lachlan burst out laughing and slapped the tiled countertop.

  "He's got housebound fever," Roan grinned sheepishly at Silas. "I'll have a dark ale."

  "Make tha' two," said Winston.

  Lachlan's gaze settled on a wicker bowl filled with salted, twisted objects. He contemplated them for a time before lifting one to his mouth. Again he hesitated then bit into it. He crunched slowly, frowning, fully concentrating on the flavor. Then a grin spread across his face. "Wha' are these?"

  "You've never had a pretzel?" Silas asked and chuffed as he placed a ceramic tankard in front of Lachlan. "Where are you from?"

  "Baird House," Lachlan said without thinking, and popped the rest of the pretzel into his mouth.