Chapter Thirty

Catriona

We stand on the porch of a modest-size ranch house in the town of Fernley, Nevada, with Alex holding my hand. He seems to need the contact, though he won't admit to it, because he's the one who clasped my hand while we walked up the concrete path from the street. The house doesn't look like much from the outside, though it's well-kept and clean. The yard has been mowed, and the bushes have been trimmed.

Sweat dribbles down the back of my neck. Aye, it's hot here.

Alex presses the doorbell button.

I glance at him, offering an encouraging smile.

He makes a face that's like a frown and a sarcastic smile are vying for control of his features.

No, I don't expect he'll admit he's glad I'm here with him. Not yet.

The door opens.

A plump, gray-haired woman rushes at Alex, flinging her arms around him. "Oh, I'm so happy you're here. We've missed you so much."

She speaks with a British accent. This must be his mother.

The woman kisses Alex's cheek, which makes him smile just enough to create wrinkles around his eyes. When she notices me, her smile broadens. "And you've brought a girl with you. Oh Alex, this is wonderful. You've never brought a girl home."

He opens his mouth but doesn't get a chance to speak.

She hugs him again. "I can't believe it's really you."

"Yes, Mum, it's me," he says, looking slightly exasperated, though he smiles. "And yes, I've brought a woman. This is Catriona MacTaggart. Cat, this is my mother, Imogen Bennett."

Before I can say hello, Imogen drags me into a fierce hug. She kisses my cheek and backs away a wee bit, though she holds onto my hands. "Please come inside, Catriona. Henry will want to meet you, and he's not up to walking yet."

Imogen leads us into the house, which isn't posh but has all the charm of a real home, a place where people live, a place that's been cared for with love. When we reach the living room, I see a slender, bald man relaxing in a recliner with his feet on the attached footrest. His left ankle is bandaged, and he has a single crutch propped against the wall beside his chair.

"Alex," he says with a grin. He tries to get up, but Imogen rushes over to stop him. Sitting back down, he looks at me. "Who have you brought with you?"

"Henry, this is Catriona MacTaggart," Imogen tells her husband. "I think she's Alex's girlfriend, but he hasn't said anything about her yet, other than her name."

"Our boy likes his secrets," Henry says.

Alex approaches Henry's chair, and since he's still holding my hand, I get dragged along with him. Alex squints at Henry's bandaged ankle, then aims his suspicious gaze at his father. "I thought you had a broken leg."

"Broken? Is that what Imogen told you?" Henry chuckles. "You know how Mum gets when anything happens. If I stub my toe, she'll call for an ambulance."

"I will not," Imogen says, though she doesn't sound offended. "But you were screaming like a banshee about how much your leg hurt. I assumed you'd broken it. How was I to know you only sprained it?"

Alex eyes his mother with affectionate suspicion. "Are you sure this wasn't a scheme to get me to visit?"

"No, I honestly thought Henry had broken his leg." Imogen pinches Alex's cheek. "But I'm glad for the confusion, since it got you here."

"Are you Alex's girlfriend?" Henry asks me.

I don't know whether Alex will agree that I'm his girlfriend, so I don't know how to answer the question. To say no would be a lie.

"Yes," Alex says. "Cat and I are a couple."

The shock of his statement hits me like a bucket of water thrown in my face, but then it gives way to a sweet warmth that blossoms in my chest and spreads outward. He admits we're a couple. He's told his parents that.

Alex puts his arm around me.

I glance at his face, and I can't help smiling.

"How long have you two known each other?" Imogen asks, waving for us to sit down on the sofa.

We sit, with Alex's arm still around me.

I lean into him while that warmth keeps simmering inside me. I haven't felt this contented in years.

"We met fourteen years ago," Alex says. "That's when I was teaching at the college in New Mexico. Catriona was a student there. We started seeing each other and, well…things progressed from there."

"Progressed?" Henry says. "What does that mean?"

"Cat and I, ah, lived together for almost two years."

Both his parents stare at him blankly.

Alex hugs me closer to him.

"Two years?" Imogen says. "But you never mentioned having a girl."

"I—It seemed like—" Alex darts his gaze left, right, up down, like his mother's question has him in a near panic. But he gets hold of himself after a few seconds and tells her, "Things ended badly, but we've reconciled."

Henry looks puzzled. "Why did you never mention living with a woman?"

"Alex is very private," I say, then I feel like an eejit for saying it. They know him better than I do. Or do they? I'll have to ask Alex about that later. "You know how he is with secrets."

"Oh yes," Imogen says, nodding. "Alex has always needed to keep certain things to himself. But he's a good boy, and we love him dearly."

I swear Alex blushes.

He aims his attention at the floor, clearing his throat. "Since Henry is all right, I suppose Cat and I should head home."

"Please stay," his mother says. "We would love to get to know your sweetheart. Please, Alex, stay for a few days."

"Fine, yes. We'll stay."

Since it's almost dinnertime, Imogen announces she will make us a "good, hearty meal" because she knows "Alex likes to live on restaurant food, which isn't healthy." I offer to help her with the cooking, and we go into the kitchen while Alex moves into the armchair beside Henry's recliner so the two of them can talk.

Alex's parents are the sweetest people I've ever met.

While Imogen and I make dinner, she tells me stories about when Alex was a laddie. We laugh at his childhood antics, and I tell her some of what Alex and I did together when we knew each other the first time, along with a few things from more recently. She loves the story of how Alex showed up at my brother Rory's castle and wore the pink kilt I gave him as a joke. I leave out the bit where Alex almost got crushed under a caber. I do share the times he has attended MacTaggart family gatherings and the humorous moments that came out of those encounters with my overprotective brothers and cousins.

Imogen beams when I tell her Alex and my cousin Logan have become good friends. "I'm so glad my boy has a friend. He never wanted to get close to anyone when he was in school. His past made it difficult for him to trust anyone."

"Aye, Alex told me all about Nigel and Julia."

She stares at me, her surprise evident on her face. "Alex told you about them? He never talks about Nigel and Julia. He must really love you."

My heart skips a beat when she says that. Does Alex love me? He hasn't said it, but then, he might not even if he felt that way. Like Imogen said, his past makes it hard for him to trust anyone. Maybe he worries I'll leave him again, the way I did twelve years ago. Everything is different now, and I need to show him I won't run away this time.

I hear laughter coming from the living room, and I can't resist peeking out there to see what Alex and Henry are doing.

Alex is leaning over the arm of his chair to get closer to Henry. They both grin and laugh again, I assume because Alex told a joke. He slaps his father's arm and smiles even more broadly.

I've never seen him so happy, except for those days when we lived together. He loves his parents, and they love him. Tears sting my eyes. My throat constricts. I love him. So much. I want to see him happy, but I never thought I would. Yet here he is laughing with his father, looking so much like the man I used to know.

After dinner and cognac, which I learn is Henry's favorite evening cocktail, Alex and I retreat into his old bedroom. He tells me he bought this house for his parents not long after they all moved to America, but he'd lived in Fernley with them only for a few months, until he'd gotten a job in New Mexico. He used to sleep in this room when he came for visits, but I know from Imogen that Alex hasn't been here in two years. I ask Alex about that after we undress for bed. Aye, we're sleeping naked together, but we're both too exhausted to do anything more than talk and go to sleep.

"Why haven't you seen your parents in two years?" I ask while I nestle under his arm on the bed.

"I don't know. Every time they asked me to come here, or suggested they might go to Montana, I told them no." He trails his fingers up and down my arm, seeming lost in the memories. "They would want me to tell them what I've been doing, and I suppose that's why I've stayed away."

"But why don't you tell them? It's not like you're a criminal."

"Aren't I? Borrowing items from museums isn't an above-board way of doing things."

"You always return the things you borrow."

He wriggles like he can't get comfortable. "I've also slept with more women than I'd want my parents to know. Every time I see them, they ask if I'm dating anyone. All I can say is no. Shagging women just for the hell of it doesn't count as dating."

"My family doesn't know about all the men I've shagged either."

"Please don't tell me how many men you've been with." He gives me a quick squeeze. "I can't promise not to get insanely jealous of every bloke who's had the pleasure of enjoying your body."

"We won't talk about our past lovers."

"Agreed."

We fall asleep in each other's arms and don't wake up until nearly ten o'clock the next morning. Alex and Imogen make breakfast, giving me time to get to know Henry. He has an impish sense of humor and a deep vein of kindness running through his soul. I met Alex's parents yesterday, and already I adore them.

After breakfast, Alex goes into the garage to get some tools so he can fix the leaky sink in the bathroom. He comes back from the garage looking exasperated.

Imogen and I are sitting on the sofa while Henry lounges in his recliner.

"What happened to the car?" Alex asks Henry. "The rear bumper is crumpled."

"Oh that," Henry says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Some blighter backed into our car in the parking lot of the grocery store."

"Why haven't you gotten it repaired? The other person's insurance should pay for it."

"Ah…" Henry grimaces. "We don't know who did it. The accident happened while we were in the store."

"But why haven't you fixed the damage?"

"Too expensive. It still runs fine."

Alex throws his head back and groans. "Dad, you don't need to worry about that. How many times have I offered to buy you a new car? You should've told me about this."

Henry shrugs, seeming embarrassed. "I don't like to ask you for help every time something goes wrong."

"For heaven's sake, Dad." Alex shakes his head at Henry. "We are going to buy you a new car today."

And we do. Alex tries to talk his father out of going along on our car-shopping trip, but Henry insists his ankle is much better today. They compromise—Alex agreeing to let Henry come along, and Henry agreeing to use his crutch. The four of us pile into the car Alex had hired at the airport when we arrived in Nevada. It's not a luxury model, but then, we'd been forced to take whatever the agency had left. Last-minute travel doesn't come with all the perks. At the dealership, Henry and Imogen wander among the vehicles hunting for one they like, while Alex and I straggle after them.

When Alex notices his parents admiring a used car, he calls out to them, "New cars only, please."

"Used ones are just as good," Henry announces, "but they're cheaper."

"Forget the bloody price tag. Pick a new car."

They give each other mulish looks, then Henry relents and shepherds his wife back into the area designated for new models. They're looking at compact cars when Alex rushes over to herd them toward the luxury models.

"You need a comfortable car," he tells Henry. "You lot aren't twenty anymore. Your arthritis won't like a hard seat, and you'll have a bloody awful time squeezing into a compact car."

"It's too expensive," Imogen says.

"For the hundredth time, ignore the price tag. Choose a car you like, not one you think is affordable."

Henry and Imogen finally agree to look for a higher-end vehicle and start exploring the options.

Alex and I follow at a slower pace, holding hands, so we can talk. When we stop so his parents can explore the interior of a model they like, I rest my chin on Alex's shoulder.

"I'm confused," I say. "You said you invested almost all of your money in building your house. How can you afford a luxury car for your parents?"

"The bulk of my disposable income went into the house," he says, "but I never said I was destitute. I told you I kept some."

"But you led me to believe you don't have much money."

"Is it my fault you assumed that?" He sighs, lifting our joined hands to wrap his free hand around them. "Honoria Parker, the big fish my parents wanted me to reel in for them, left half of her estate to me when she died. I hadn't seen her in more than a decade, but in her will she said that I deserved the money for sparing her from being swindled and because I was brave enough to turn my parents in to the police." He makes a pained face. "Not sure she was right about that. I used most of the money to buy things for Henry and Imogen, but I also have investments which have paid significant dividends in the five years since I built the house."

"So you're still rich."

"Didn't Logan tell you how much I paid him for that job he did for me?"

"Of course not. Logan is discreet, which is why you hired him."

"That's true."

Henry waves his arms in the air to get our attention and shouts, "We found one!"

Alex goes off with his father to buy the car, leaving me with questions I want answered. Later, I'll ask him. Finally, after all these years, I'm getting to know him, all of him. And it makes me love him even more.