Chapter 24 Lachlan
Lachlan
“Hey, Lachlan, you got any bubbly back there?” Andrew whispered over the bar. “Could you pour the lot a round on me?”
“Sure thing.”
Lachlan lined up flutes, lost in thought. Whatever else Trey Evans was, Lachlan knew he was a wee prick. Deli had crossed the world for just the hope of Evans, and it was lost on him.
Lachlan sorted through what he’d learned as he poured champagne.
He’d studied Deli’s eyes as she answered his question—watched her mouth, searching for a passing shadow of insincerity, but her response felt honest. Deli seemed to be a little tipsy and a little embarrassed, but Lachlan didn’t think she was lying.
“Seriously, what did I miss?” Deli swayed slightly on her feet.
Andrew answered her. “You haven’t missed anything, Deli. But would you mind if I stole your turn choosing the next truth or drink?”
“Sure,” Deli said. “Popcorn, Andrew! Hey, does anyone have the Wi-Fi info?”
Lachlan had always liked Andrew—even when he’d been the annoying best friend of his infuriating little brother. And especially since he’d loved Blair the way Lachlan wasn’t meant to.
Andrew mimed a finger over his lips and helped Lachlan pass out glasses while Blair happily played rock paper scissors with Hannah. When they were ready, he addressed the group. His soft voice was resolute.
“Blair? May I interrupt?”
“Yes?” Blair’s brows creased in worry. The two of them had been together so long—two kids long—and had never acted so formally in The Wallflower.
Andrew’s hand slipped into his pocket. He lowered himself to one knee.
“Truth or Drink, my love?”
Blair’s laughter lit up the room. Douglas clapped his hands over his mouth and burst into tears.
Andrew smiled at the woman he loved and asked, “Will you marry me?”
The room fell silent, but it was full. Lachlan Scott was struck with pride over how different a silent pub full of love could be from a silent pub full of fear. He had worked hard to make it so.
Blair dropped to her knees, grabbed Andrew’s face, and said, “Yes, my kind, gentle, silly man. I have loved you every day since the first day, and I intend to keep up my streak. You choose any one of them and I’ll marry you on it.
As long as it’s fun and Douglas gets to teach the kids a choreographed dance. ”
The small crowd of people Lachlan had grown up beside broke out in cheers, the top note of which was Douglas’s high, keening squeal of joy.
Mo smooshed Andrew’s and Blair’s faces together. “Holy balls, this is Thrilling! Why now?”
Lachlan saw Blair’s face drop the way it did when she was hiding something painful. He’d seen it often, once upon a time.
“Mum’s gotten a bit of . . . scary health news recently.” She ran her fingers through the hair at Andrew’s temple before he caught her hand and kissed it. “We figured, life is short, and the kids really want to be flower faeries.”
Deli hugged Blair, really hugged her—like they’d been friends forever and not just an hour—and Blair’s face lit up with warmth.
Lachlan closed his eyes and pressed his fingers into the corners.
Deli was careless with her heart—stampeding in with a reckless vulnerability—and she’d be careless with any heart she won.
He thought through the silly plan to send Deli on wild goose chases in a bid to make her stay, searching for opportunity.
He could use it to his advantage. She’d traipse through their town, sure she’d find a fake boyfriend with each adventure, and end each one alone.
He could stoke that disappointment like an ember.
Lachlan could build a fire in his sleep.
And he would need to.
“So when’s the big day?” Graham asked.
Blair looked at Andrew and raised an eyebrow. He grinned. “One month from today.”
Mo mumbled as she rubbed her palms together and stared at the ceiling.
“That is a very short timeline, my lovelies,” she said after calculating what Lachlan knew must have been vendors and shipping in her head. “Do you have a pla—”
Blair dropped her hands on Mo’s shoulders. “Mo, make our wedding.”
Mo laughed—a booming and unashamed thing Lachlan had always loved—then turned, not to him, but to Deli, and swept her into a hug.
He knew he’d have something to apologize for—Mo wouldn’t see things the way he could. But no one can see the big picture when they’re deep in it. He knew the ache that came with realizing family cannot be what you need them to be. He wished hers deserved her.
But Lachlan and Mo weren’t nothing. It wasn’t perfect, but the family they’d cobbled together in Fearnhall was good.
They didn’t need anyone else.
There was another round of drinks ordered and places taken as Blair called for the second half of the talent show.
Ten minutes later, Douglas finished his second dance number to the tune of “Under the Sea” from The Little Mermaid—chest heaving and hands in a pyramid over his head like a fin.
He wore a new mini kilt and a sparkling aqua Speedo.
Hannah plucked the sign-up sheet off the wall and eyed Lachlan. Though it had been years since Hannah had last spoken, she managed to say more with a look than most said with words.
“What? What’s that look for?”
Hannah scribbled out her name and rewrote it at the bottom of the sheet under where Mo had scrawled Deli’s, taking Deli’s place as the show’s closer.
Mo appeared at the bar and leaned over it, searching for something. “I need a few of the short tumblers.”
He knew exactly where this was going. “No, absolutely not.”
“Come on.”
“No.”
“Got any balls?”
Lachlan patted his pockets. “Fresh out.”
“Then it will have to be glasses.”
He shook his head. “It’s not my fault you never come prepared for this.”
“Don’t I?” Mo winked as Hannah made a hasty retreat from the bar with an armful of limes.
His jaw dropped. “Hannah, how could you?”
She tossed the limes to Mo one by one in response.
Douglas had commandeered control of the speakers somehow (he’d have to Douglas-proof them later), and “I’m Too Sexy” by Right Said Fred came blaring through as Mo began her show. The small crowd oohed and aahed like they’d never seen Mo juggle limes before.
It was nights like this that made Lachlan feel like spending the rest of his life in this place with these people would be an okay way to live, even if it wasn’t always what he’d expected. Even if it wasn’t what he’d wanted, once upon a time.
There were many ways to end up alone. He’d be lucky if he had to only endure this one.
“Graham! Hit me!” Mo called. Graham drained his pint and tossed it toward Mo, who caught it and kept juggling.
“Oi!” Lachlan shouted. “You’ll be paying for that!”
“Put it on my tab!” Graham called back. Blair tossed a bottle of hand sanitizer from her bag into the mix.
Deli stared at her aunt in open wonder. Blair pulled Deli closer until her cheek rested on Blair’s shoulder—their faces peppered with the glow of the colored holiday lights. Blair was really the only woman her age left in Fearnhall, when Lachlan thought about it.
“Thank you, thank you!” Mo said, taking a bow. “Who’s next?”
Lachlan consulted the sheet. “Deli.”
Deli whipped around, and the jolt that went through him threatened his balance.
Her voice was squeaky. “Me?”
Lachlan swallowed hard. “You.”