Bonus Scene
Five years later
Tavin walked into the stables, the smell of fresh hay distracting him from what he had originally gone in there to do.
The sun was setting and before long, the two clans would come together to celebrate the birth of his second son, Ian.
The parties would last long into the night and Tavin didn’t know how long he would last now that there was another bairn in the keep.
“Logan!” he called out, knowing that he and Moira’s firstborn was hiding in there somewhere.
The young tot did this nearly every night now, escaping the clutches of his nanny so that he didn’t have to go to bed.
A faint rustling near the end of the stables caught his attention and Tavin leaned against the wood plank of the stall, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know yer in there, Son.”
“I am not.”
Tavin grinned. “Then who am I talking with?”
There was a long sigh before the red-headed boy popped out of the hay, a scowl that rivaled any Scottish laird on his face. “How did ye know?”
Tavin leaned down and swept his son in his arms. “Because. Ye have tae start picking a different hiding place if ye wish not tae be found.”
Logan rested his head on Tavin’s shoulder. “I want tae stay awake for the party.”
Tavin tweaked his nose as they made their way out of the stable. “Aye, but yer too young yet. Maybe next time.”
Logan lifted his head. “Are ye and Mum going tae have a baby every year from now on?”
Tavin chuckled, thinking about how Moira looked when she was ripe with child. It was his favorite sight, knowing that he had planted his seed in her belly. “Nay. Look at the years between ye and Ian.”
Logan stuck out his bottom lip, something he had seen Moira do a time or two. “Then why cannae I stay up?”
“Because ’tis time for yer bed,” Moira called out, walking toward them. “And Ian needs his big brother to watch over him.”
Logan perked up at that, scrambling down from his da’s arms. “I will go get mah sword straightaway!”
Tavin laughed as their son disappeared into the keep, reaching for his wife. “Ye should be in bed, Wife.”
“I’m fine,” she said, laying her head on his chest. “’Tis been two months. I’m more than ready to have a bit of ale and dance with mah husband.”
Tavin breathed in her scent. “And perhaps travel tae the Stuart clan?” With Moira heavily pregnant, he had made the last trek alone, listening to their complaints and doling out the duties that came with being a laird.
He had even appointed his own second-in-command, relieving Will of his duties to return to his own clan.
Juggling two clans had not been easy, but they had done the best they could.
“Aye,” she finally said, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I want tae take our sons there.”
Tavin’s heart warmed at the thought.
His sons.
When Moira had told him that she was with child, Tavin had thought that there could be no greater feeling.
But when he had held Logan for the first time, he realized that every day was better than the last. He strived hard to be a good husband to Moira as well as a good clansman and laird to both clans.
And now he had to be a good father to both his sons. The thought terrified him that he would do something to ruin their lives, that his happiness would be stripped of him and he would become the man he was before Moira had come into his life.
But each morning she was there, by his side and he thanked the gods for the blessing that he didn’t deserve but was willing to keep.
Pressing a kiss to her temple, he looked back at the stable. “Ye know, I remember once when ye told me tae tup ye in the barn.”
She chuckled, raising her head to meet his heated gaze. “That was a long time ago, Tavin.”
“So?” he replied, touching his forehead to hers. “’Tis been a while, Wife, that ye have taken care of yer husband.”
“Not that long.”
“Feels like ages.”
“Tavin!” she laughed, slapping him lightly on the chest. “’Tis hasn’t been that long. If I remember right, ye were afraid tae touch me after Logan was born.”
He had been afraid that he would hurt her in some way. After the agonizing birth she had experienced with their first son, Tavin wasn’t so certain he wanted her to go through that again.
But she had and he was amazed by her strength. His hand snaked up to cup her full breast, rubbing her nipple through the fabric. “I’m not afraid tae touch ye now, love. Let me love ye.”
“Oh, Tavin,” she breathed, her eyes closing. “That feels good, but we have a keep full of guests waiting for us to arrive.”
He chuckled and kissed the column of her throat before taking her hand and pulling her toward the barn. “They can wait. There are many ways tae celebrate Ian’s birth and I believe we are due for our own celebration.”
“I agree,” she said breathlessly as they entered the barn, her cheeks flushed with need. Tavin directed her to an empty stall and pressed her up against the wall gently, his body covering hers. “Tell me, Moira.”
She wound her arms around his neck, her eyes shining with love and heated intensity that he would never grow old of seeing in her eyes. “I love ye, Tavin Stuart.”
It was a phrase he never grew tired of hearing. As his hand inched up her skirt, he pressed his lips to her neck. “I love ye, Moira Stuart.”
Neither leader talked for a long time afterward.