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Mairi was in a strange mood. It wasn’t one she often experienced, because she didn’t usually spend time plagued by deep thoughts. But as she rode behind Keir, it felt like her thoughts were pressing down on her, with a weight that made her wonder if she would ever stand again.
Keir had been right when he told her she was backed into a corner. With the media interested in her story, and her fake boyfriends pulling increasingly crazy stunts to “win” the game, there were very few options left for her to put a stop to the husband competition. In fact, as time went on, it seemed like she really only had two options to get out of the mess she was in—run away, or marry Keir.
Keir.
She felt like a dam had burst within her when it came to Keir, and she was drowning in the confusing emotions, needs, and fears that swamped her. In only a few days, she’d gone from angrily keeping her distance, to leaning on him for the strength she needed to figure things out. Not only that, but she’d fallen straight into bed with the man she swore she’d never touch again. And she’d loved it.
Everything was mixed up in her head. Now that she’d started touching him, she seemed unable to stop. Every time he was near her, she wanted to pull him to her and do wicked, wicked things that would leave him panting for more. When he entered a room, it was as though he was the only person she could see. The air between them became electric and Mairi’s body started screaming for more. Her body desperately wanted Keir, but her mind wasn’t so sure. She still had questions about the night he’d walked out on her. Questions she wasn’t sure she was ready to have answered.
And then there was trust.
How could she trust the man who’d left her after he’d made her love him? How could she trust him not to do it again? She’d watched her parents repeat the same cycle of abuse and forgiveness for twenty-six years, to the point where the sisters not only didn’t respect them, they weren’t even sure they loved them anymore. If she let Keir back in, would they turn into her parents? Would he hurt her yet again? Would she make excuses for him, allowing the cycle to repeat continuously?
She didn’t know.
But she was beginning to think the point was moot, because she was afraid she was falling in love with the man all over again. It was a terrifying possibility, because love hurt. It broke you and left you bleeding. It could not be trusted.
Even knowing all this, she was fairly certain marrying Keir was her only option if she wanted to get out of the mess she was in. It was either that or walk away, with nothing in her pocket and even less in the bank, to try to build her life anew somewhere else—an impossible feat.
If ever there was a stupid decision waiting to be made, this was it.
When Keir pulled the bike up in front of a small stone house, it took Mairi a few seconds to realize they’d stopped—she was that deep in thought.
He squeezed her hand. “Come on, Rusty. I’ll show you around.”
Mairi climbed off the bike and let Keir take the helmet from her head. All the while, her eyes were on the house. Somehow she’d pictured him in a flat in the center of town, not in a white cottage on the outskirts. She looked behind her, and sure enough, there was the loch, black in the night, but reflecting the street lights on the opposite side of the water.
Keir tugged her hand, and she followed him up the three steps and through the wide oak door. She ran her fingers over the stained glass panel beside the door.
“You have stained glass,” she said inanely.
“Came with the house,” he said gruffly. “You must be cold. You weren’t wearing a jacket on the bike.”
As he said it, Mairi’s skin began to chill, and she wrapped her arms around her middle. “I didn’t notice.”
He opened the door to a closet that was just inside the entrance and brought out a fleece-lined hoodie. “Let’s get you into this.”
She obediently let him wrap her up in the top, waiting while he zipped it up and rolled up her sleeves. “Thanks.”
He cupped the back of her neck. “I don’t like it when you’re quiet. Usually, I’d worry that you were plotting something I’d regret, but this feels different, and I don’t know what to do to make it better.”
There was nothing he could do. The decision she had to make was one only she could work out.
“Show me your house,” she told him. “Then make me a nice warm cup of tea.”
Keir gave her a worried look before he took her hand and led her along the polished wooden floorboards of his hallway. The wooden floor extended into his living room, which contained a big black leather sofa, a steel and glass coffee table and a giant TV. There were no curtains on the windows, and the view over the loch during the day would be stunning.
“I see you decorated in twentieth-century guy.” Mairi pointed at the wall where there was a framed print of a red car she couldn’t identify. If it wasn’t driven by Doc Brown or Marty McFly, she didn’t have a clue what it was. “Even down to the artwork.”
“Come on, smart-arse.” He tugged her hand, and she trailed after him.
The house was small, but gorgeous. Keir had painted the walls white and left the wood natural and polished. At some point, someone had obviously converted the attic to extra rooms, and there was a narrow staircase leading up to them from the end of the hallway. They skipped the stairs and turned right, into the kitchen.
“The bathroom is on the other side of the stairs,” Keir said. “Next to it’s a bedroom I use to store my workout equipment.”
“That explains the abs.”
“The abs are natural, Rusty. I was born with them. Don’t you remember?” His eyes sparkled at her, and she felt her cheeks flush.
She did remember seeing them often while they were dating, but she didn’t remember them being quite so spectacular. She looked around the kitchen, which sported granite countertops, black breakfast-bar stools and stainless steel appliances.
“What do men have against color?” Mairi asked as she climbed onto a stool.
Keir filled the silver kettle from the tap over the butler’s sink. Mairi had always wanted a butler’s sink, and a kitchen island—just like the one she was sitting at. Although, if this were her house, there would be a whole lot more color.
“I suppose you’d fill the place with flowers and colored cushions,” Keir said with a smile.
“Keir, I’ve seen three pictures on your walls, and they are all of cars.” She pointed at the one above the large wooden dining table. “And that one is gray.”
“Point taken,” he said. “You hungry?”
“I could eat cake,” she said hopefully.
“No cake, but I have ice cream.”
Mairi shook her head. She was cold enough without adding to it. “I’ll just take tea.”
While he made her a cup, she glanced over at his back door and noticed there was a massive pet door cut into it.
“You have a dog door,” she said.
“Last owners had a Doberman, which means I’m all set up for that list of yours. All I need to do is get a dog—and take some singing lessons.”
He put a mug of nice, strong, milky tea in front of her, before leaning on the island opposite her. “What you going to do about this mess, Rusty?”
She sipped at her tea while she watched him. “I need time to think about it.”
“Time is running out. People are getting hurt.”
“Just tonight, Keir. Let me have tonight. I’ll make a decision tomorrow.”
He looked at her for the longest time before his face softened and he pushed away from the counter. “Okay, gorgeous, we won’t talk about it tonight.” He turned his back to her as he filled another mug with steaming water. “You want to watch a movie before going to bed?”
Mairi watched his shoulders move and his back ripple. Her eyes trailed down to his narrow hips and those thick, solid thighs. Everything about him called to her. As soon as she’d set eyes on him, she’d wanted to touch, to lose herself in him, and now she felt exactly the same. She wanted to spend the night losing herself in Keir and forget about everything else. It was selfish and cruel; she didn’t want to lead him on when she wasn’t even sure what she was thinking or feeling.
“Rusty?”
Her name snapped her out of her thoughts, and she realized Keir had come around the counter to stand beside her.
“What’s going on?” He reached out and ran his hand down her arm to hold her hand.
Her skin burned where he touched her, and every fiber of her being reached for him.
“I’m being selfish and trying not to be. It’s hard. I’m not used to thinking about anyone other than me.”
“How are you being selfish?” His brow furrowed.
She tore her eyes from his and looked around. “I came here because I’m hiding from my mess. I’m leaning on you when I know it only confuses things between us, and...” She shook her head. “Never mind.”
“Tell me,” he whispered as he clasped her chin gently and turned her face to his. “It’s okay. Just tell me.”
She saw that look in his eyes again. The one that thrilled and terrified her in equal measure. The one that said Keir felt a whole lot more for her than he was letting on. The one that promised he could love her, if she would only let him.
It was a reason not to tell him what she wanted. A good reason. And yet, her selfish, longing heart and her needy, lonely body wouldn’t let her keep her mouth closed.
“I want to go upstairs,” she whispered.
His hand tightened on hers. “Rusty?”
“I want to spend the night forgetting. With you. I want you. Tonight.” She looked away. “I don’t know about tomorrow, Keir, and I know I’m being selfish asking for this.” She gave a dry chuckle. “I’ve been thinking about myself for so long that it’s hard to stop doing it, but I’m trying.”
Keir reached out and removed the mug from her hand. “It isn’t selfish if I want it too.”
Her heart stopped in her chest.
“Come on,” he said.
He tugged her hand, and she let him pull her off the stool. Then, in silence, she followed him upstairs to his bedroom.