Chapter 24 Mac #2
I followed him. “Says the man owned by my daughter. She bought you a leash yet?”
Lachlan threw his head back in laughter. “As her father, I’ll save you the horror of answering that question.”
“Fuck off.”
The bastard only laughed harder.
“Keep laughing, and I won’t tell you what I really think about your plans for the loch.”
Lachlan stalled and looked back at me. “Go on, then.”
“It’s a bad idea. Right now, the members respect the grounds.
Turn Loch Ardnoch into a party area, and they might think it’s okay to go down there whenever they want for a knees-up.
Besides, the cleanup will be a pain in the arse.
All those water lanterns, the inevitable rubbish and damage to the land … ”
“You’ve got to give the members some credit, Mac.” Lachlan frowned, his gaze moving past my shoulders, and I could tell my concerns were sinking in.
“Never mind the fact that they might think it’s okay to do the same at Loch Evelyn.” It was a smaller loch down by the coast, named after Lachlan’s ancestor. “Drunk people do stupid shit, Lachlan.”
He nodded, heaving an exasperated sigh. “I just wanted to do something different this year.”
“Then do it on the castle’s main grounds. Save some of that budget for the drones. Just leave the loch alone. I think Eredine and the staff who live at the loch will appreciate that too.”
“Fuck, of course. I wasn’t thinking.”
Knowing the real cause, I assured him, “The members aren’t going anywhere.
This estate is more than fancy events that offer unique moments.
The uniqueness here is privacy in a place of outstanding natural beauty, and that has always been the attraction, Lachlan.
Stop worrying so much. If memberships decrease, then you worry. ”
He nodded, following me back to the castle.
“We grew up land rich but cash poor, and I always assumed once I had some real money, I’d stop worrying about financial security so much.
But it never goes away. The worry is always there, and as our family grows, it makes me think about it all over again. ”
I understood, and I knew I would probably never be able to shift that way of thinking for him, but for now, I could reassure him. “Ardnoch is thriving. Try to enjoy the ceilidh, Lachlan, for what it is—your first one with a wife.”
He grinned. “Considering our activities at the last two ceilidhs we attended, I think I will.”
“You’re such a dirty bastard.”
Lachlan’s loud laughter followed me as I marched ahead of him to the castle. “I’m really enjoying being your son-in-law!”
I gave him the middle finger before I disappeared inside, the door cutting off his renewed amusement.
I couldn’t remember ever feeling nervous about meeting a woman. Flirting, saying the right thing, that had always come easy to me for the purpose of getting a woman into bed. My whole life I’d been spoiled for choice, and I knew that made me a lucky prick.
However, I was apparently utterly shit at the relationship stuff.
And I’d never wanted to be more capable of something in my whole life than exactly that as I walked down the street toward Flora’s Café.
I passed neighbors and nodded hello, but I was barely aware of them.
All I could think about was saying the right things to Arro, so I didn’t push her away. The pressure was unfuckingreal.
My attention caught on the public car park outside the Gloaming, and I noted Arro’s new Defender there. I was relieved she’d retired her dad’s old vehicle for safety reasons, but I knew it couldn’t have been easy for her, and I hated we hadn’t even discussed it. We would have done so in the past.
The reminder that I could say the right thing to Arro—because I’d done it for years as her friend—made me feel a wee bit better as I approached Flora’s.
There she was.
Sitting at a table by the window, her hands cupped around a cappuccino, staring down into the coffee with a frown puckering her forehead. Her long hair fell over her shoulders in soft, blond waves.
Heart racing harder, I picked up my pace and strolled into the café. I didn’t even greet the owner as I always did. I only had eyes for Arro.
She looked up as soon as I walked in.
“Hi,” I said as I pulled out the chair across from her and sat. She wore a pale-yellow T-shirt with a censored naked banana on it, and I tried not to smile, and failed. “I like your T-shirt.”
Arro smirked. “Regan bought it for my birthday.”
I took in her face, and everything in me went calm and still, the chaos inside finally slotting into place like a puzzle, its restlessness fizzling out with relief.
She’d caught the sun these past few weeks, freckles glowing on her cheeks and sprinkled across her nose, her skin a soft golden tone.
It made her eyes an even paler blue. Arro was beautiful, but beyond the kind of beautiful you experience when you look at an attractive person.
She was beautiful to me in a way that burst from the inside out.
The kind of beauty that caused this rising, aching sensation.
The kind of beauty that reminded me why life was worth living.
Fuck, I loved this woman.
Arro’s eyes widened a little, as if she could read everything on my face. She probably could.
“Mac, you didn’t say hello.” Flora, the café owner, broke the moment between us as she approached our table. It was only as I looked up that I realized the café was filled with customers, the tables all full. I hadn’t even heard their chatter until now, I was so focused on Arrochar Adair.
“Flora, morning. Can I get an Americano, please?”
“Um … yeah, of course.” Her head bobbed like she was confused. “I’ll just bring that over.” Her expression flattened, and she stomped away.
I turned back to Arro. “What was that?”
Arro raised an eyebrow. “Mac, you usually flirt with her. It makes her day.”
Ah. Right.
Flora Macdonald was an attractive woman around my age, but she was also very married. Mick Macdonald was a bus driver and a dry sort. I didn’t think he did much flirting with his wife. I flirted with her because it was second nature, but I would never flirt in earnest with a married woman.
And now … I didn’t want to flirt with anyone but Arro. I never wanted her to mistake it for something it wasn’t or be hurt by it. I’d inflicted enough pain.
“I’m not going to flirt with another woman in front of you.”
“It’s never stopped you before.”
I grimaced. “We both know it was just out of habit. But … things are different between us now. I would never do that to you.”
“Mac, we’re not …” Arro shrugged unhappily. “I don’t know what we are. I came here because I want to at least try to be friends again, for our sake and everyone else’s, but anything else … You shouldn’t change yourself for me.”
I mimicked her unhappy shrug because I was already changed. There was no going back.
“Your Americano.” Flora reappeared and dumped it on the table. “Anything else?”
At her snippy tone, I inwardly sighed and smiled up at her. “No, Flora. Thank you very much.”
She softened a little and muttered, “No problem.”
Once she’d left us, Arro’s mouth twitched with laughter.
“What?” I asked, unable to drag my attention from her lips.
I watched them move as she replied, “You can’t help yourself. When you smile at someone. It’s … affecting.”
“I only care that it affects you.”
Arro shook her head. “Are you going to say things like that to me all the time now?”
“Aye.”
She chuckled, and the sound made me smile, made me itch to touch her.
“Well, at least you’re honest.” Tilting her head in thought, she asked, “Speaking of which, how is …” Her gaze darted around the café as if to make sure no one was listening, and then she leaned in to continue quietly, “How is therapy going?”
Taking advantage of the need for privacy, I lifted my chair and placed it right beside hers so that when I sat back down, our knees touched.
Ignoring Arro’s raised eyebrows, I leaned in, inhaling the floral perfume she’d worn for years.
“It’s ongoing. Iona is great. And the methods are working, I think.
It’s tiring sometimes. But I definitely feel different. Better. Lighter.”
As if she couldn’t help herself, Arro wrapped a hand over my forearm and squeezed. “I am proud of you, Mackennon.”
Her words were a pleasurable burn in my chest. “That means a lot. Thank you.”
At my gruff reply, she gave my arm another squeeze and then withdrew.
“How have you been? That wee prick at work still giving you a hard time?”
“No, I’ve barely seen Duncan. I’ll probably see more of him as we move ahead with the new project, but that won’t be for another few weeks yet.”
We made small talk for ten minutes or so, but then Flora approached to ask if we needed anything else. Ordering two more coffees and a couple of scones, neither of us missed the way Flora’s gaze deliberately bounced between us and the fact that I’d moved my chair closer to Arrochar.
“That’s all,” Arro said pointedly.
Flora lifted her chin haughtily and walked away. Glancing around, I noticed a group of older villagers near the front counter gawking at us.
“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered under my breath.
Arro noticed the villagers’ attention.
I sighed. “Maybe I shouldn’t have sat so close.”
She snorted. “Yeah, for my peace of mind. Not for theirs. Let them look. Bloody busybodies.”
Arro grew up in this village, and I knew she was used to everybody meddling in one another’s business. She’d long decided the only way to get through it was not to give a shit what they thought or said about her. I’d always admired that attitude and shared it.
“I can move,” I offered.
She shook her head. “No, not for them. Even if having your leg pressed against mine is extremely confusing.”
“Why?” I leaned closer.
Irritation flashed across her face. “You know why.”
Need tightened in my gut as the air thickened between us. My eyes dropped to her mouth, and honestly, I couldn’t give a fuck who saw us.
But as my head dipped toward hers, she spoke, halting my progress. “You know what hurt the most, Mac?”
I jerked back, dread filling me at her despondent tone.
Her gaze moved over my face, something indecipherable in it.
“I don’t think it’s your rejection that still bothers me.
It was how desperate I’d felt at that moment.
Desperate for you to love me.” Tears glistened in her eyes, and a thick, painful lump rose in my throat.
“I never ever want to feel that way again. That’s not who I want to be. I’m not that woman.”
Terrified by what that might mean, I grasped for her hand. “Arro, think about what’s behind that, though. Is it really to do with me, or did that come from something else?”
She yanked her hand away and hissed under her breath, “Of course, it was about you. You pulled me in and then pushed me away so many times over the years, I was so confused and mixed up about you.”
Flora suddenly appeared, her expression disapproving as she placed our coffees on the table. “I’ll be right back with the scones.”
We sat in tense silence as we waited for Flora to return. She hovered a second too long until I gave her a flat stare. Clearing her throat, she wiped her hands down her apron and walked away.
“We shouldn’t talk about this here,” Arro murmured.
I studied her downcast countenance. “Aye, I sent out a lot of mixed signals that didn’t help any …
but, Arro, think about it. You grew up with four brothers who loved and adored you.
What you have with them is more special than you realize.
And I think it only emphasized the fact that your dad wasn’t there for you.
” I leaned in, my voice low as she lifted her tortured gaze to mine.
“A dad who didn’t tell you he loved you until he was dying.
Of course, that fucked with your head. And along comes me”—emotion made me hoarse—“the first man you’ve ever romantically loved? ”
She gave me a brittle nod.
“And I make you feel like I love you back, but I never say it. Don’t you think that’s why you felt desperate that night? Because that moment with your dad haunts you, and you never want to have a relationship with someone you love like that again … where the love comes too late.”
A tear escaped, and she looked out the window, swiping the drop from her cheek.
I curled my hand around hers. “I love you.”
Her eyes flew back to mine.
“And no matter if you decide to give me a chance or not, know that I will always love you.”
I could see her struggling to keep in the tears, and I squeezed her hand harder.
“Everything okay here?” Flora startled us.
Fuck off, Flora. I glared up at her. “We’re fine.”
Arro scowled at the woman but nodded.
Once she’d left again, Arro bent her head to mine and whispered, “If she comes over one more time, I’m going to tell her to fuck off.”
I barked my laughter since she’d mirrored my thoughts, and the tension between us eased somewhat.
We sipped our coffees and then Arro observed, “You always were so perceptive, Mackennon. It amazes me your self-perception is so skewed.”
“Aye.” I heaved a sigh. “Life’s ironic that way, eh?”
She gave me a compassionate smile, and I experienced that pleasurable burn again.
Arro wasn’t running. She might not have agreed to give me a shot romantically, but she wasn’t running.
There was still a chance for us.