Chapter 12
Chapter twelve
Katie
It’s the most wonderful time of the year.
The festive season is in full swing—December is finally here. I love this season. My plans for my little cottage are grand. My home is about to be filled with garlands and twinkling lights. I’m basically Mrs. Claus at this point.
My time at Eden House is due up next month, but Jeffery asked me to consider staying on until the end of May. I jumped at the chance. Life has been steady, soft, and peaceful. It’s a welcome change from the hustle of London.
Lance has made it incredible. My writing is productive and colorful. It finally feels as if everything is moving forward in the right direction.
I will remain in my bubble, floating upward as long as I can.
Leaving risks going back to the woman I was, and I’ve come too far.
Staying here means not settling back into the norm, or risking the reverse into uncertainty, which seems to have stayed in London.
The what I should be doing against the what I want to be doing.
This version of myself I prefer by a mile.
The main house stands solitary, overseeing the rest of the estate. A van arrived two weeks ago to collect some furniture Jeffery claimed had been sold. They had a key to access the property, so I was to stay out of the way.
His strange requests and rules are the only downside of my stay here. I push them to the back of my mind. It’s none of my business. Only the fresh tire tracks on the gravel hint that anyone was here.
Life wrapped in Lance’s arms is unbelievable. For the first time ever, I feel loved. He makes me laugh, he makes me feel seen, and the sex is ridiculous.
Reminding myself he’s not mine to keep always ruins my day. This is a short-lived romance that will end once we’re both healed. But bloody hell, every moment with him is gratifying. If only he was a few years older.
To respect his daughter, we socialize out of the area or in each other’s homes. After the scene at The Coorey Inn, discretion was essential. Hannah’s not aware we’re seeing each other, and it’s best kept that way. For everyone involved.
I refuse to be the reason a twelve-year-old’s life gets messier. I won’t be with him forever, so we need to limit who knows about us to minimize any damage when this ends. It will end. And there will be damage. Most likely the destruction of my heart.
Each time we’re together, I fall a little more. It’s not love, it can’t be, but I care deeply. There’s honesty between us. He’s become my safe place. My laugh until I snort partner. He’s my substitute best friend. My comfort.
Amy’s concerned about how strong my feelings are.
He’s Mr. Right Now, not Mr. Right, I told her during our phone call last night, but she’s catastrophizing.
I miss my friend; she’s been my rock. But I need to do what’s right for me, no one else.
Pride aches a little with the thought of putting myself first. A new trait I’m liking more and more.
Tonight, we’re going out to dinner with Lance’s friend, Dog, and his girlfriend, Millie. My nerves are tap dancing, every detail of my outfit overthought.
Lance talks about them a lot; they’re important in his life. Both are a similar age to him; I’ll be the granny of the group. Millie is blonde, bubbly, and disgustingly pretty. If anyone mistakes me for their mother, I may throw myself into the nearest snowdrift.
These concerns have been building since I started seeing him, but his obvious attraction to me quietened my worries. In private, my confidence is high; I feel like the only woman in the world.
He worships me.
But in public, I’m on alert for sly glances and snarky remarks. He gives me no reason to lose confidence, holding my hand and always showing me affection. Deep down, I know our time is limited. Will I cope without him? Can I really write this relationship off as the fun fling it was meant to be?
At six o’clock, we head to Inverness for a night out in the city. Having lived in London all my life, I miss the big city vibe, the constant noise and chatter, the anonymity of being surrounded by thousands of people but not knowing anyone.
Aviemore is the exact opposite—everyone knows everyone. In the five months I’ve lived here, every resident has told me their life story. The information can be overwhelming at nine in the morning while at the butcher counter, but I like it all the same.
As much as I love the serenity of the area, it’s going to be fun getting dressed up and having a few cocktails. Inverness is a forty-minute drive away, but my man has arranged for an old friend to pick us up and bring us home. Very responsible. And out of character for both of us.
Standing in front of my full-length mirror, I stare at my reflection.
The motto tonight is Go Big or Go Home. My black bandage dress hugs my curves and accentuates my cinched waist. The neckline scoops low to show my ample bosom.
Skyscraper heels paired with sleek black tights give me a sophisticated but sexy look.
My face is fully made up with dark cat eyes and bright red lips.
Frankly, I look like I eat men for breakfast.
A knock at the door, and butterflies flutter in my tummy. Grabbing my bag, I negotiate the stairs and wriggle into my fur coat. Scotland is freezing in December, but the night is crisp and dry. Snow is in the air.
A true Scotsman stands on my doorstep. He looks edible wearing a kilt and ghillie shirt. A damn masterpiece. Even this man’s knees are sexy, I think to myself. My gaze roams over his body, and I pinch myself that he’s here for me. For now.
Stepping forward, he takes me in his arms, heat radiating off him. He’s like a bloody boiler. It feels so good.
“I need to kiss you, Katie,” he drawls.
“Kiss me, and you’re dead. This lipstick is on point.” I laugh and swipe at his shoulder playfully. “You’ll have to make do with a cuddle.”
“I’d prefer a naked cuddle. Fuck dinner, let’s go to bed.”
“No! Look at me. I’m all dressed up. You’re taking me out. I expect to be wined and dined, Major.”
He hisses through his teeth, “God, I just want to fuck you here and now, you gorgeous woman.”
His friends wait in the car watching. Lance smiles, then leads me over.
Dog greets me with a hug. Millie gives me a warm kiss on my cheek, then wipes her stray lipstick from my skin. Sweet and pretty like her photo suggested.
“Lovely to meet you both,” I say.
“Oh, Katie, you’re as stunning as Lance said you were,” Millie says. I blush.
“Wait till I tell you all the gossip about what these two get up to in that bachelor pad.” Her stage whisper provides chuckles.
“Millie.” Lance rolls his eyes. “Try not to scare off Katie in the first five minutes.”
She giggles, the tension I imagined easing. We all pile into the car and head off for Inverness.
The bar is sophisticated and classy with a full frontage of glass.
Inside are sleek black glass tables and chairs; an intricate walnut and steel bar runs down one side of the room, and the mirrored back wall shows rows of colored bottles.
Smartly dressed bartenders shake and make drinks with finesse, like they were trained in Vegas.
The music is low and classical. This place screams wealth.
We sit around a high table. I perch on my stool, balancing myself using my heel on the step. Millie looks flawless in a flowing pink off-the-shoulder dress, the soft material streaming around her. Angelic almost.
We scan the menu; I choose a mojito. I love the clean, crisp flavor of the lime.
Our conversation flows easily. Dog and Millie are a lovely couple and easy to like.
He’s crazy about her, hanging off her every word.
She gushes about her business making cupcakes, flicking through pictures on her phone to demonstrate the weird and wonderful designs she’s been asked to create.
This girl is talented, and I get visions of her on a TV baking show.
She’s exactly the kind of contestant that the public would vote for. A hundred percent likeable.
Dog is officially barking mad. Any lull in the conversation is immediately filled with a perplexing story.
I’m not sure if they’re all true, but he’s entertaining.
It’s obvious Lance and he are close. They’ve spent years watching each other’s backs, seen things that they would rather unsee, been war heroes together. True comrades.
No one pries into my past. Lance knows most of it. Except for the one thing I keep hidden, the thing no one knows. I shudder, the idea of my past being dragged into the light frightening. All I want to do is hide from the past, from him, from the pathetic creature I used to be.
They listen to my stories of creating my novels. My time as Bex’s friend. My battle with cancer. Then, my success beating it. When my emotions rise, Lance squeezes my hand under the table. This man is becoming my rock. He shouldn’t be. He’s not my future. He can’t be.
My happiness can’t be dependent on a single-father, almost twenty years my junior.
It’s my responsibility to create it. And if I have a long term partner again, it needs to be someone with graying hair, a stable income, and a timeline similar to mine.
If I find that, I need to grab it with both hands.
Though, while I’m drowning in Lance, is looking even an option? I’m not sure I care.
A waiter approaches us. “Are you ready to move to the dining room?”
We nod and follow him to another elegant space, which is fitted out plusher than the bar next door.
We eat. Each plate is more beautiful than the last. This is fine dining at its best. By the final course, I’m sated and happy.
We move upstairs to a more relaxed bar with leather couches and low tables. I cuddle up next to Lance. He kisses my forehead, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. For a moment, everything feels easy, right. Normal.
The boys head to the bar for another round. I move to sit next to Millie.
“You and Dog are a lovely couple,” I whisper. She flashes me a shy smile.
“I adore him. He feels like the one. But...” Her voice falls away.
“But...” I prompt. She breathes hard through her nose. The way someone does when they know they’ve said too much, but are desperate to get whatever is niggling them off their chest.
“But he may get deployed again. I don’t know if I’m cut out to be a soldier’s wife. It’s fine when he’s here. But out there with guns and landmines…” Her finger twists on the stem of her glass. “Living like that terrifies me. I’m not sure I want that.”
Her honesty stuns me. Lance mentioned redeployment and his indecision.
When he returned in the summer, he planned to request a discharge.
After the affair, he reconsidered his options.
The army approved a further six months’ extension to his current contract, meaning he would be able to stay home.
Signing up again would mean three more years.
I’m not sure how I feel about that either.
I try not to think about it, having no right to an opinion. Our futures won’t be together. But Millie sees a future with her soldier. Her fears are valid. She needs to consider all the potential outcomes for him, for her, for their life.
Lance and Dog stand at the bar. The room is filled with beautiful women—young, smooth-skinned, perfect. Their hungry eyes roam over my man. Jealousy claws in my chest. Fear too. Fear that I’m no match for them. And he’ll realize.
He turns, smiles, and waves. Confident. Not caring who sees. He blows me a kiss; I catch it. The girl next to him gawks, then her nose scrunches with open repulsion. It stings.
Has this gone too far?
Is it time to cut ties before I fall too deep?
Maybe after Christmas. Rip the band-aid off and let him go.
Save myself while I still can. Or whatever of me will be left.