Chapter 15
LENA
Clover whinnied, and I pulled back from Weston slowly, my heart skipping in my chest. Up close, his eyes were as green as the surrounding hillsides and filled with tenderness.
Tenderness that made me reach out and tug him close again.
I pressed my lips to his, holding our mouths together, tasting the warmth of his kiss as desire swirled through me. I wanted to sink into him and see where this would go. His hands cupped my waist, sliding around to the small of my back, holding me so, so close.
I didn’t want to stop.
No, I wanted…I wanted…
We bumped up against Clover, and she startled, snorting her displeasure.
With that, we broke apart, chests heaving, and all I could do was stare.
Because when I looked at Weston now, it was like I was seeing a completely different person.
The buttoned-up CEO from Houston I was used to seemed a million miles away.
All that was left was the man who loved the rugged Scottish countryside, who’d paid for my best friend’s Paris bachelorette, who went to committee meetings and held people’s babies. This wasn’t my boss. This was my Weston.
My Weston? Where had that thought come from?
I pressed my hand to my forehead. This was all moving so quickly. And yet, there was a part of me that thought it had been a long time coming. And another part that wasn’t really thinking at all—that was just aching for more.
“I think they’re getting antsy,” Weston whispered, his words ghosting across my face and cutting into the monologue reeling through my mind.
The horses. Yes, the horses. Just focus on Clover and what she needed. “We should get them back to the cattle shed,” I agreed, proud of myself when my voice came out calm and steady. I turned and pulled myself into my saddle without a word about the kiss. Weston did the same.
What was there to say anyway? I liked it. I wanted more. But did he? Had it dawned on him yet what we’d just done?
The horses walked side by side, and my mind kept turning over what we’d just done—and what it might mean.
My gaze drifted to Weston, looking for any sign of concern, but he sat easy in the saddle, comfortable as he loosely held the reins, his body relaxed.
And hot. Incredibly hot. Just like that kiss had been absurdly, ridiculously hot.
Cinematic, really. What girl didn’t want to be kissed breathless in the Scottish Highlands?
It was like my own personal Hearts of the Highlands fantasy playing out in real time.
All I needed now was Weston, in a kilt, to throw me over his shoulder and take me back to his room where he’d devour me on a bed of tartan—
But this wasn’t a fantasy. This was reality. My real life. With my real boss.
Who was also…my real husband. Sort of? Legally. Temporarily.
It was just supposed to be a business arrangement. There weren’t supposed to be feelings involved. But I couldn’t deny the emotions that had developed in the weeks since arriving in Braeburn. I’d seen a different side of Weston Kincaid, someone I’d liked getting to know.
And my attraction to him? It had skyrocketed. It was getting harder and harder to keep it locked down, especially since…well, he hadn’t been wrong, back during his trainwreck of a proposal, when he said I didn’t have much of a social life.
I’d long since come to the conclusion that a committed, lifelong relationship wasn’t ever going to happen for me.
Not just because of work, but simply because when people got to know me and found out I couldn’t have children, they decided I wasn’t someone worth building a life with.
It still hurt to think about, but I was starting to make peace with that.
But accepting that didn’t mean I liked being alone.
It had been way too long since the last time anyone had kissed me, touched me, taken me to bed.
I missed it—missed that intimacy and connection, missed orgasms that I didn’t have to take care of myself, missed feeling sexy and desirable.
Weston made me feel that way. Would it really be the worst thing to just…
see where that went? Enjoy our time together while it lasted?
We reached the shed, and I clicked my tongue. Clover darted ahead, and I dismounted by her stall, leading her inside and removing the saddle to give her a quick brush. Weston walked in with a bucket of oats.
While Clover occupied herself with a snack, he turned to me. “I didn’t mean to make things complicated back there.”
I caught my bottom lip between my teeth. “I think we’ve both made it complicated.” He might have initiated things, but I’d certainly been a willing participant. There was nothing that happened between us that I hadn’t wanted.
“It doesn’t have to be,” he said, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.
A smile tugged at my mouth. Yeah, that sounded like Weston—the king of short term.
The lord of one-night stands. He was never one for wanting things to be complicated.
Simple and direct—that was how he liked his affairs.
But as long as everyone was on the same page, there wasn’t anything wrong with that. Why not have some fun?
“We could keep things simple,” he said, voice gravelly as he stepped closer, inching into my space.
“Simple?” My pulse sped up as his head tipped toward me. I wanted to reach out and close the distance between us. I wanted more.
“Easy,” he whispered.
“Easy, right,” I mumbled as his lips dropped toward mine, and my breath caught.
“I mean, we’re already married,” he said, lifting his shoulder.
“I think that’s one of the things that make it complicated,” I pointed out.
“Weston, that you?” Callum called suddenly.
Weston jerked back. “Aye!”
“Agnes is going off on one. She said you and Lena missed lunch. Again. I’d cross a lot of things, but not that woman.”
“We’re on our way back to the house now,” Weston called, cheek twitching as he held my gaze. He brushed his thumb along the blush that heated my face. “Guess we should get going.”
I nodded, following him out of Clover’s stall, stopping only to wave goodbye to little Arran before heading back to the castle. Weston stopped hard as we walked through the front door.
“You’ve been out riding, have you?” Agnes said, standing in the hall as she pointed a wooden spoon at us. “Lunch is on the table—where it has been for the past half hour or more. It’s probably cold by now, but you have no one to blame but yourselves.”
“I was showing Lena the coastline,” he said.
“You smell like horses now,” she replied with a grimace. She flicked the spoon to the second floor. “Upstairs to change. Both of you. I won’t have you stinking up the dining room. It’s bad enough Callum is always traipsing through here smelling like a sheep herd.”
“We’ve been told,” Weston whispered to me, smirking as he left his boots at the door and headed for the stairs.
I got rid of my own boots and followed after him.
He shot me a lopsided grin over his shoulder, and my pulse jumped while certain other parts of me stirred.
Maybe we could keep things simple. There were already terms laid out.
Our relationship had an expiration date, didn’t it?
Six months and then divorce. Six months and we went our own ways.
This was all going to end one day soon. But in the meantime, would it really be so wrong for us to enjoy ourselves?
By the time we reached the second-floor landing, I’d started to realize I actually felt pretty gross—I’d gotten sweatier on horseback than I’d thought.
“Plans for the afternoon?” Weston asked casually.
“A couple things I need to follow up on with Nancy. And I’ll chase the sketches from the architects if those aren’t back yet. But I currently smell like a horse, so I think I need to shower before anything.”
“I could use a shower too,” Weston admitted.
We approached the door to my bathroom. The heat of our kiss burned at the forefront of my mind, and I knew this was the moment of truth. Maybe we needed to talk things through, but didn’t they say actions spoke louder than words?
My hand shot out, locking around his before he could continue down the hall.
I looked up, locking eyes with him. “We could always shower together?”