CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR ~ GRAEME ~ NOW
My heart is hammering so hard I can feel it reverberating throughout my entire body. It’s as if it’s straining to get closer to the woman in front of me. The woman who holds my fate in her hands.
“I always longed for a place to call home and put down roots,” Abby says. “But at the same time, I’ve been afraid it would never happen, or I wouldn’t know how because it’s such a foreign concept.”
I feel myself nodding even as the rest of my body goes numb. If Abby was terrified before, now I’m the one experiencing something akin to terror as I wonder if what she’s saying is leading to a goodbye.
“But you...you have such deep roots here. Your family has lived on this land for generations, and you have a deep sense of pride in that. A sense of belonging. I think you could probably live anywhere in Scotland and think of it as home.”
“Aye,” I say slowly, uncertain where she’s going with this. “I suppose I could.”
“I experienced a bit of that in Kingston when we all lived there. I loved the city, and I loved our life together. It wasn’t until we all went our separate ways that I realized ‘home’ wasn’t necessarily a place, it was my people: Drew, Brodie, Fern, and most of all, you.
I’ve been chasing that feeling for the last fourteen years, worried I’d never feel it again.
But then we arrived in Scotland, and you stepped out of Hamish, and there it was again, stronger than ever. ”
Air rushes out of my lungs so forcefully, it moves the loose hairs around Abby’s face. I think I might have been holding my breath that entire time. “So you’re ready to put down roots? Here, with me?”
She lets out a giddy laugh that burrows under my skin and makes it buzz. “I am. You were right when you said I found my way back to you for a reason. I was never able to capture that feeling of home again because it was waiting for me here all along.”
Unable to hold back a second longer, I take her face in my hands and cover her mouth with mine.
She laughs against my lips, and I do the same, taking advantage of her parted lips to dip my tongue in for a taste.
She wraps her arms around me and kisses me back with what feels like years’ worth of pent-up longing.
As much as I want to go on kissing her for the rest of the day, a question niggles at the back of my mind.
I don’t want to do or say anything to dissuade her, but I also need to ask for my own peace of mind.
So I ease away, placing soft, short kisses on her lips and cheeks until she laughs breathlessly.
I cup her face once more and look into her beautiful brown eyes.
They’re clearer than I’ve seen them since she arrived, which fills me with a sense of hope I haven’t allowed myself to feel in years.
“Everything you said you were afraid of before...those fears won’t disappear overnight.
I can’t just tell you everything will be okay and expect you to have complete faith, as much as I’d like that. ”
She tilts her head, her expression quizzical. “You’re worried I’ll let those fears take over and drive me away again?”
“I wouldn’t say I’m worried...” I trail off, uncertain how to vocalize what I’m thinking.
With a resolute expression, she guides me backward until my knees hit the edge of the bed. She gives me a light push, and I sink onto the mattress, bouncing in place. Her hands grip my shoulders, and mine move to her hips, guiding her forward to straddle me.
“Is this how we’re sorting things out then?” I ask.
Her lips twitch into a half smile. “Not yet.”
I groan as she settles in my lap, leaving only inches between us. “I think I’d be okay with a few unanswered questions if it meant letting our bodies do the talking for a while.”
She tightens her hold on my shoulders. “Not yet,” she repeats. “Stick with me here. You gave me reassurance, and now I want to do the same for you. Can I tell you what I picture when I think of our future?”
Our future. I love the sound of that. “Aye, a ghràidh, go on.”
She studies my face, her lips curving upward.
Her fingers move through my hair before gripping the back of my neck.
“It’s mostly simple, everyday things. Cooking together in the kitchen.
Saturday mornings at the Farmers Market.
Wandering the city and taking road trips.
Dinners with your family—our family—along with the type of holidays I’ve only ever seen on TV.
Cuddles and kisses and holding hands. Hearing you call me ‘Pumpkin Spice’ or ‘a ghràidh’ or ‘love’ or ‘sweetheart’ for the rest of my life. ”
“Maybe I should streamline the pet names,” I say, taking advantage of the short pause as she inhales deeply.
“Never. I love every single one of them.” She pecks me on the lips.
“All of these things have lived secretly in my heart for so many years. I didn’t allow myself to think about them because it hurt too much.
But now I can, and I love the idea of being by your side as we grow older and you get even hotter. ”
I let out a surprised laugh that makes her eyes glow with delight.
“I mean it. I don’t know how you do it, Graeme MacKinlay, but you keep getting hotter.” She kisses me again, then pulls away with a laugh when I attempt to deepen it. “I’m almost done, and then you can kiss me until I see stars.”
“Until we both see stars.” I caress her cheek with the backs of my fingers, then trail them down to rest lightly on the pulse point at her neck. “Do you still have that competency kink?” The way her pulse jumps gives me an answer before she speaks.
“Only when it comes to you,” she says, her voice dipping into a sultry murmur that sends a shot of lust straight to my cock.
“I love when you take charge, both in the bedroom and out. I know I’ll never have to figure things out on my own, and you’ll always be a soft place to land.
And I hope you know I’ll be the same for you.
I’ll support you in every way, take care of you when you need it, comfort you when work is tough and you’re tired or frustrated.
Our life won’t be perfect, but we’ll be together, and that’ll make it perfectly imperfect. ”
That same heart-straining sensation from earlier returns. I knew whatever Abby was going to say had the power to seal my fate in a way. Now I’m certain my heart is safe in her hands.
“I can’t wait to experience every perfectly imperfect moment with you,” I tell her. “We should probably talk about logistics.”
She lifts up on her knees and inches closer to me, letting her lips hover over mine. “Later. I can’t stop thinking about the ‘amazing sex’ you mentioned earlier.”