Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
MY HEART WAS TOO BIG
Callum
Mathilda and I reached the great hall’s open staircase at the same moment Gordain closed the front door. He slung his RAF backpack to the floor, dropped his black motorbike helmet on top, and was immediately engulfed by the twins.
“What did he apply for?” Mathilda asked, her voice low and for me alone.
“Search and rescue pilot training. Helicopters. Very hard to get into.”
She arched her eyebrows. “Fingers crossed.”
I squeezed her hand and didn’t let go, making my way to my brother.
As with all my family, their successes were mine, their failures hurting me just as hard.
I hadn’t the heart to see Gordain disappointed and, over the previous weeks, my stomach had tied itself into a knot every time I’d imagined this scene.
His disappointment or, please God, elation.
The surge of lust from Mathilda’s kiss amplified my emotions until I practically vibrated. I owed her an explanation about the separate bedrooms, but it was all part of my plan, and it would wait.
Gordain emerged from his impromptu wrestle with the twins, hugged James who’d appeared from the back of the hall, greeted Beth, then turned to us.
His broad smile had infected everyone, though a sense of acute tension reigned. We stood in a ragged circle, all breathing suspended, all eyes on Gordain.
“You must be Mathilda,” he introduced himself, his bright-eyed gaze resting on my woman.
“And you’re Gordain.” Mathilda shook his hand. “Please, don’t stand on ceremony for me. I think everyone is about to pass out if you don’t share your news.”
Gordain settled his expression then pulled an envelope from inside his leathers. He ran it between his fingers then pursed his lips. “I’d just like to thank ye all, my family, and friends, for supporting me—”
He was killing me. “Fucking hell, man. Out with it,” I croaked.
Fighting a grin, Gordain opened the envelope then shook the letter out. “Streamed to rotary,” he said quietly, his attention on me. “I got in.”
A roar ripped out of me, pure relief and joy surging. Slamming into him, I picked up my brother and thumped him on the back, crushing him. Around us, James and the twins bellowed their delight, two feminine voices adding to the happy sounds rising to the rafters.
“You clever fucker.” I smacked Gordain on the cheek and dropped him down. He’d done it—achieved his dream. He beamed a lopsided grin at me, then spun around to hug it out with the rest of the family.
I took my first deep breath in weeks.
The weekend was perfect. I had Mathilda here, my family had received the best news in an era, and we were going to make the most of it. In preparation for Gordain’s success, in whatever career he’d been assigned, we had a feast organised for tonight.
A hand snaked into mine. Mathilda’s. “Congratulations,” she whispered.
“For him.” I nodded to where my brother showed James the letter. I was prouder than a parent, relieved to the moon and back.
“He handed the letter to you.” Mathilda squeezed my fingers.
“I don’t know who’s happier. You for hearing the news, or him for bringing it to you.
” Warmth spread through me, but she wasn’t done.
“You’re an inspiration to me, do you know that?
What you’ve made for your brothers, this is what I want for Scarlet. All of this.”
“You’ll have it,” I vowed, instantly adding a space for Mathilda’s wee sister in my planning.
Because if she was to live with her, that could be here.
I’d made a giant leap in my head, and it didn’t faze me.
My woman, on the other hand, would disappear down a rabbit hole if I told her too soon, but the idea was there, and now I could work on making it happen.
Hours later, my family slouched in seats in the great hall, full of chicken stew and warmed by our roaring fire, safe within Castle McRae’s thick walls. The evening had been taken up with celebrations and eating, and now we needed either our beds or strong coffee.
My mind was on the first option.
Sitting back, I regarded my family. Three large men, a pair of oversized boys, and two women the centre of all of our attention.
Mathilda being here was right. Everything about it.
She’d owned the twins, not taking their shite and giving back their teasing with smart quips that delighted them.
I’d kept them around us until dinner and since, the temptation of being alone with her too much to bear.
Gordain and Beth chatted easily, laughing about something I hadn’t paid attention to.
Earlier, Gordain had taken the lass off-road driving, with James swallowing down whatever reaction he was having.
She’d asked James to go with her first, but he’d refused point blank to get into the Land Rover if she was behind the wheel.
When she and my brother arrived back, mud-splattered and laughing, James had left his post by the door and stalked off, his expression dark.
I’d flagged Gordain down as Beth danced across the car park to Mathilda, hooting about her wild driving. If the woman had turned two heads, there could be trouble. Gordain enjoyed the company of women and had never suffered a lack of attention.
“Do ye think it worked?” Gordain had slid his aviator sunglasses into his shorn hair. “Fitz was watching for her safe return, aye?”
I’d cocked my head at him.
“He’s interested in a woman for the first time ever,” Gordain had explained. “Nothing wrong with giving him a little push. Fuck if he’s going to get there on his own.”
“You wound him up on purpose?”
“No, she wanted to go, and I offered because I knew he couldnae, ye ken. He’s got to get over his issues, because the lass is fuming that he refused to get into the car with her behind the wheel.”
So, Beth was into James, too. Good.
Gordain had switched his gaze to Mathilda. I’d watched her as well, a fitted woollen jacket protecting her from the breeze, my hopes and dreams in her pockets. “Speaking of lasses, what does Mathilda make of the place? It’s a long way to relocate if she’d move in with you.”
My laugh had been weak. “This is her second visit. What makes you think she’d even consider it?”
“Ah ha, you said ‘she’, telling me that for you this is already a done deal.” He’d clapped my shoulder, and I’d frowned at him. “You don’t have the luxury of moving, so whatever lass takes you seriously would already have done that thinking. I’d say that ship has sailed, no?”
He’d left me standing there, an unnerving sensation suspending me like I was balanced on a wire. With my worry for Gordain over, my whole attention could be given to whether or not Mathilda returned my feelings. Maybe he was right and this visit was a good sign.
Or maybe he was wrong, and my castle was yet another hurdle to add to my list.
The assumption people had of me was that I, the big laird, had no concerns.
Brutal in my approach to life because I could walk right through anything that got in my way.
Violent fathers, isolation, and a family in chaos.
Nothing could be further from the truth. My heart was too big, too full of fear.
Even now, hours later, I brooded on the barriers I’d have to carve my way through.
Some arsehole had proposed to Mathilda. I needed to hear it from her lips that she’d turned him down before we took things any further. If she hadn’t made up her mind, I was in trouble, as the way she’d been looking at me had my lust threatening to take over my thinking.
We couldn’t sleep together until I knew she was mine. The McRaes might be hard to break, but this one didn’t want to put it to the test. It would hurt too badly. But I already knew how my impulses overruled me.
If nothing had been resolved by tomorrow, I had a backup plan.
“Boys, a movie?” Gordain stretched, tattoos peeking from under his shirt sleeves, the bottle of beer he’d brought from the dinner table in his outstretched hand.
“If I can choose.” Ally slid his phone into his pocket, his permanently present headphones around his neck. Sometimes I hated that he needed them.
“You have the worst taste,” drawled his twin, uncurling himself from an armchair he’d dragged out of the den. “Always superheroes.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t think I can watch Casablanca again without wanting to die. Ye ken there are other films out there—”
The boys argued as Gordain shepherded them into the passage leading to his tower, leaving Mathilda and me, plus James and Beth in the tall-backed chairs.
James appeared to be sleeping—he hadn’t eaten anything over dinner and had waved me off when I’d asked if he was sick.
He could take care of himself. I had only one thing on my mind.
Mathilda looked up from where she’d leaned over to speak to Beth.
In the firelight, her eyes gleamed.
Aye, lass.
I stood and held out my hand, not trusting myself to speak. Mathilda whispered something else to Beth who raised a hand to say goodnight. I was being a shite host to Mathilda’s friend, though I wasn’t entirely sure whose guest she was.
Together, fingers entwined, Mathilda and I crossed the flagstone floor then mounted the stairs lining the wall.
Kiss her. Here. Now. In the shadows, against the wall.
My skin was too tight for my body. I weighed too much. My blood pumped around my veins too fast.
My resolve held.
“Today has been out of this world,” Mathilda said, low and sweet. “I love your family.”
“It’s mutual.” My voice was a grunt, but the sentiment real. I’d seen it in Gordain’s interest in her as she’d asked him about training, in the twins showing off in front of her, seeking her approval.
“And you? Do you like having me here?”
I did. Too much and too fast.
“Tell me, Callum.”
We rounded the corner to the hall, and I broke. With rough hands, I swung about and pulled Mathilda into my body. She gave a small gasp but just as quickly clutched my neck. Our lips met in heat, fast movements, and escalating pressure.
That resolve I’d built, layering reason on reason all afternoon long, crumbled under her touch. Mathilda tasted sweet as she opened her mouth under mine, and our kiss turned nuclear. Passionate and heady, an unleashing of pent-up need.
A dim light came from a lamp in Mathilda’s bedroom two doors along. Beth had a room on this corridor, the twins and James around the corner. I silently thanked Gordain for taking the boys away so I had this kiss without an audience.
I tangled my hands in her soft curls, wedged my knee between her legs, and we crashed against the panelled wood of the hallway.
Mathilda’s fingers found the buttons of my shirt, and she wrenched the first open.
I didn’t stop her.
Instead, I slid a hand free from her hair and grasped at her waist.
“More,” Mathilda spoke into our kiss.
Fuck. With my impulses out of control, I lifted her then pinned her to the wall, my hips to hers. Her legs encircled my back, and then somehow my hands were under her thighs. In touching distance of Heaven.
I grazed a line of lace with a fingertip.
Mathilda gave a gentle moan. Encouragement almost impossible to deny.
Except I could. I dropped my forehead to her shoulder and clamped down on the staggering lust.
“Why am I not sharing your bed?” Mathilda asked, her breathing heavy.
“Not tonight.” The words scratched my throat. I was a fool. A hard-headed, soft-hearted idiot. Stubborn to a fault and about to kick my own ass all over my damn solar. “We have all weekend.”
Raising my head, I kissed her again, lingering this time. Softer, to show that I could.
“I have a surprise for ye tomorrow,” I murmured, laying a gentle kiss on her temple then placing her back on her feet. The scent of her drove me wild. “Pack an overnight bag. We’re going somewhere after the party.”
She hummed agreement, her cheek on my shoulder, and we stood for a moment longer, locked in each other’s arms.
“Goodnight, Mathilda. Get some rest.” I released her, needing to walk away before I begged her forgiveness for holding out on her and took her soft body against the very wall.
“Until tomorrow,” she whispered back, then disappeared, leaving me cold.