Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
BLAIR
Monday
When the front door clicks open at four o’clock, Gus is up like a shot, paws scrabbling as he barrels into the hallway to see Lachlan.
“Da!” Finn leaps up, scattering Lego everywhere.
“Come and see what we built!” He bolts out of the living room too, returning moments later, dragging his father by the hand.
And, yep, there it is again, that unfair little hitch in my chest when I see Lachlan in uniform.
Crisp shirt, epaulettes, the whole package.
Apparently ferry-captain chic is my kryptonite.
“Blair.” Lachlan gives me a nod, a glint of warmth in his eyes.
“Lachlan,” I return, aiming for casual. Mostly succeeding.
“Look, Da!” Finn points proudly at the Lego creation on the coffee table. “It’s Ardmara pier! We didn’t have enough white bricks for the lighthouse, so some of it’s yellow.”
“Very impressive.” Lachlan crouches to study the uneven little tower like it’s architectural genius. Meanwhile, I gather up stray Legos and pop them back in the box.
“Oh,” Finn says. “Do we have to tidy up already?” You’d think he’d know the routine by now. When Lachlan gets home from work, that’s when I skedaddle.
But Lachlan surprises us both by saying, “Not just yet. Blair, I was wondering if you’d like to stay for dinner tonight?”
“On a weekday?” Finn asks.
“Aye, on a weekday,” his father confirms, straightening. Then, to me, “What do you think?”
It takes me all of two seconds to decide. “Sure. I’d like that a lot.”
Finn whoops and does a victory lap around the coffee table, arms out like an airplane. Gus, catching the mood, snatches up a ball and parades around, squeaking it over and over.
Lachlan’s lips twitch. “Great. I’ll go start the chilli.”
And just like that, the celebration dies. Finn groans, flopping onto the couch in exaggerated despair. Gus drops the ball and sinks onto the floor, ears drooping in solidarity.
“Chilli con carne,” Finn says sadly. “My least favourite meal.”
Tuesday
I’m sitting at the little table in the granny flat, with only Gerald and a book for company, when movement across the yard catches my eye. Lachlan appears in the kitchen window and lifts his hand in a crisp salute.
Our signal. That means Finn’s asleep. All clear.
I grin and salute back before shoving my feet into sneakers. No time to waste. Not when there’s a sexy ferry captain waiting.
The back door opens as I reach it, and Lachlan steps aside to let me in, a half-smile tugging at his lips. He’s swapped his uniform for jeans and a grey henley, and honestly, he looks just as devastating dressed down as he does in epaulettes.
“Evening,” I say lightly as I slip past him, only to yelp when his palm lands squarely on my ass and gives it a squeeze.
“Lachlan!”
He doesn’t apologise. In fact, he has the nerve to claim the other cheek too.
Before I can swat him, Gus pads over, tail wagging. I ruffle his ears quickly, laughing. “Sorry, buddy. This doesn’t concern you.” Then I catch Lachlan’s hand and tug him down the hallway. “C’mon. Let’s go, captain.”
He chuckles, his voice husky. “So impatient, Blair.”
I toss a look over my shoulder as I climb the stairs, then give my hips a deliberate sway. Predictably, his hands find my ass again.
“You really do have the most glorious arse,” he murmurs. “I could watch you go upstairs all day.”
Laughter fizzes in my chest but I bite it back.
The second his bedroom door shuts behind us, Lachlan spins me around and presses me back against it. His mouth claims mine. Hot, insistent, no preamble.
“Now who’s impatient, huh?” I manage against his lips.
He laughs low in his throat, his tongue teasing mine, and I melt into the kiss. His hands roam me like he can’t decide which part of me he wants most. Waist, breasts, hips, all of me fair game.
I tug at his henley, desperate for skin, and he whips it over his head in one move. My sweater follows, and when his gaze drops to the lace beneath, hunger flashes in his eyes.
He makes quick work of the clasp and then the bra too drops away. His mouth is on me at once, greedy and eager. I arch into him, gasping, my fingers threading through his hair.
Thursday
Gus snores between Finn and me, warm and heavy, his body pressed against both of us. It’s early afternoon, and the three of us are curled on the living room couch while I read Finn the latest instalment of The Otter and the Boy .
When I finish, silence lingers. Finn blinks, and for a second I worry I maybe didn’t get this part right. Then his face breaks into a grin. “It’s so good !” He claps his hands and bounces on the couch, jolting Gus awake. The dog huffs in protest before settling again.
My chest swells, light and fizzy. Kids don’t fake this kind of enthusiasm. If Finn was bored, he’d be wriggling or begging to do something else. Instead he’s here, bright-eyed, completely swept up in my little story.
“I’m really glad you liked it.”
“I did! What happens next?”
“Um, well, I haven’t written the next chapter yet.”
Finn folds his arms, the picture of indignation. “Then you better write it soon. I need to know what happens!”
I nod gravely. “Message received, sir. I’ll have the next chapter on your desk by morning.”
Friday
I water Gerald, pluck a couple of yellowing leaves, then check the main house again. There he is, at the kitchen window, a grin tugging at his mouth as he lifts his hand in our familiar salute.
Tonight, though, I don’t return it. Instead, I let my robe slip from my shoulders, satin pooling at my feet, and press a hand to my mouth in a mock oops .
I already flashed Lachlan through this window once. Tonight I figured, why not do it again? Only on purpose this time.
From the shock on Lachlan’s face, you’d think he’d been struck by lightning. I turn and slowly bend to scoop up the robe. When I straighten, he’s dragging a hand down his face like a man in agony.
A giggle bubbles out of me as I shrug back into the robe, the thin satin clinging to every curve. It doesn’t hide much, and that’s exactly the point.
When I reach the main house, I discover Lachlan’s sweatpants don’t hide much either. The outline of his cock is clear as day against them, and wow, is he hard. Mission accomplished, Blair.
“Naughty girl,” he growls. He shuts the back door, snaps the blinds closed, then hauls me against him, his cock pressing into my hip.
He gives my ass a smack hard enough to make me gasp.
Then, crouching down on his haunches, he shoves the robe up around my waist and mutters a rough, reverent, “Fuck.”
No panties. Nothing at all. Just me, bared for him.
In one swift move he tears the robe off me and tosses it aside. “Turn around and pick it up. I didn’t get the full view last time. Bloody Gerald was in the way.”
Smirking, I do as I’m told. Only as I straighten, he pushes me back over again.
“Uh-uh. Not so fast. I’m not done looking yet.”
I bite back a giggle. “Planning to gawk all night, captain? Or are we taking this upstairs?”
Saturday
We’re back at Traigh Bàn and the beach is ours alone, just miles of white sand and the sharp tang of salt in the air.
Our shoes lie abandoned by the picnic blanket; we’re lined up ready for a race.
To make things fair, Lachlan carries me on his back, his hands hooked under my thighs, my arms looped around his shoulders.
“That’s the finish.” Finn points at a chunk of driftwood about a hundred yards away. “Ready?” He bounces from foot to foot. Beside him, Gus lets out an eager whine, every bit as excited as Finn.
Lachlan tightens his hold on me and leans forward.
“Three . . . two . . . one . . . GO!” Finn shouts, and we take off across the sand.
Gus rockets into the lead, of course, while Lachlan matches Finn’s pace stride for stride. The boy’s little arms and legs pump furiously, his face scrunched with determination.
Halfway there, Lachlan eases off just enough for Finn to pull ahead, and I can’t hold back my grin. Even with me clinging to his back, I know fine well Lachlan could outrun a six-year-old, but he wants his boy to win.
I play along, patting his shoulder like a jockey. “Giddy up, horsey!”
“He’s just... so fast,” Lachlan pants loudly enough for Finn to hear.
Finn glances back, grinning, then puts on an extra burst of speed. He reaches the finish, leaps over the driftwood, and throws his arms in the air in triumph.
Sunday
I sit cross-legged on Lachlan’s bed in one of his soft cotton T-shirts and nothing else.
Lachlan stands in front of me, completely naked except for his captain’s hat perched cockily on his head.
Broad shoulders, defined chest, that trail of hair leading down to where he’s already hard again despite everything we’ve done tonight.
.. my mouth waters just looking at him.
“What is it with you and this bloody hat?”
I drag my gaze up from the obvious focal point to find his green eyes glinting with amusement. “I find it sexy. Can’t help it. Besides... I’ve realised something. Last time I asked you to wear nothing but it, I missed a trick.”
Sitting up, I pluck the hat from his head and turn it over in my hands. “See, I only ever saw what you looked like with it up here.” I pause for effect, then lean forward, a wicked smile tugging at my lips. “Not down here.”
With exaggerated care, I balance the hat on his cock then lean back on my hands to admire my handiwork. It’s basically the world’s most inappropriate hat stand. My shoulders shake as I fight to keep from bursting out laughing.
Lachlan glances down at himself, then back at me, one brow lifting, caught somewhere between amusement and arousal.
That does it. I lose it, laughter bubbling out of me. A soft chuckle rumbles from him too.
“You always find a way to surprise me, Blair.”
“My pleasure, La ch lan.” I roll the ch just right, the way I’ve rehearsed it a hundred times.