True to his word, Lachlan spends the next week wooing me.
Every morning starts with a new cheesy poem on the doorstep.
Flowers are delivered at random throughout the day.
Music lyrics peek out from under the windshield wipers of my car in the morning.
Nanna is loving the entire thing, clapping her hands and giggling like a schoolgirl.
Part of me, the logical part, can admit how ridiculous Lachlan’s flirty attempts to charm me are. Mainly, because I’m already so charmed I’m his. But the other part of me, the emotional side, is reveling in his attention and affections.
And laughing right along with Nanna.
Three days before the gala, Lachlan takes me to dinner, another new nightly ritual. He’s wine and dined me all over Edinburgh, kissed the cold from my cheeks, and stolen the breath from my lungs under snowy skies and twinkling town lights.
But tonight, it’s different. Tonight feels like the first time our temporary situation is slipping into something permanent. Into a future I’ve yearned for.
My body is in tune to every move Lachlan makes, the way his palm finds my thigh when I’m sitting in the passenger seat of his car, how he presses his fingertips into the small of my back when we leave the restaurant, and the scrape of his stubble against my cheek as he kisses me in front of my house.
For the past week, he’s been the perfect gentleman. Properly courting me. But tonight, I’m desperate for the feel of his hot skin against mine. It’s been nearly five months, and my body craves Lachlan like an artist yearns for his muse.
“Come to the cellar.” I unclip my seat belt, tugging on his fingers.
“The cellar? I like where your mind is heading.” Lachlan snorts but immediately unfastens his buckle and opens the car door.
Running through the cold night, I feel his presence shadowing mine. We slip into the farm’s shop, and I flip on the lights, letting the displays piled with baked goods and jams and honey surround us. I turn to glance at Lachlan over my shoulder and wiggle my eyebrows, leading him through a sliding barn door into the cellar.
We’re laughing, the sound musical as it echoes around the space. The first time Lachlan kissed me, when I was nineteen, it was here. In this tiny space pressed between the stables and a rarely used office.
With the renovation of the barn, the cellar has been transformed into the shop, offering customers jams and pies, baked goods, and preserves.
But this portion, a pantry type of space all the way in the back, is still shelved to the ceiling with jellies and jams and smells like berries.
The wine from dinner has made me more forward and I don’t care. For the first time in a long time, it feels good to revel in the moment, to enjoy the sweetness Lachlan is offering. To know that it’s not fleeting, but for real this time.
“Do you remember the last time we were here?” he asks, his frame crowding me against the wall. Tenderness lines his expression as he gazes down at me, his dark eyes burning.
I nod, recalling the kiss with perfect clarity. It was the night I knew a part of my heart would always beat for Lachlan Begay. Even if he didn’t want it, it was his.
But tonight, now, things are different. There’s a resolve in Lachlan’s expression, a sincerity in his tone. After spending countless hours together this week, talking and reminiscing and planning, I know that he’s finally giving me a piece of his heart, too.
His hands find my hips, tugging me flush against him. The warmth from his fingertips travels through my dress, caressing my skin with the promise of what’s to come.
“It’s different this time,” he whispers, as if to reassure me.
“I know.” I tip my face toward his, arching my neck, even though he closes the space between us.
Lachlan’s mouth brushes against mine slowly, as if he’s recalling a memory. Sweetly, like raspberry jam. Closing my eyes, my hands tentatively move to cup his cheeks, and he steps closer, walking me backward until my back hits a long table, shelves of honey and jams closing in on either side of us.
My lips part, and his tongue darts in, his hands dropping from my hips to grip my outer thighs. In one fluid movement, Lach lifts me off my feet and settles me on the table. Stepping in between my thighs, my dress rides up, offering a peek of my lace panties. I hook my ankles behind his back and tug him closer until I feel him, all of him, pressed against my core.
My breathing turns ragged as I drop my hands behind me to brace myself upright as Lachlan’s body covers mine. One of his hands slides up my back, anchoring me to his chest, while the other splays wide against the wall behind me, keeping him upright. Ripping my mouth from his, I tip my head back farther. His lips never leave my skin as they trail down the column of my neck, a blaze of fire followed by a stream of cool air. Goosebumps fan over my skin.
Lachlan growls as he presses open-mouthed kisses across the top of my chest. “Keira.”
“Hmm?” I breathe out, my body trembling from the jolts of electricity short-circuiting along my nervous system.
“I’m sorry.”
I still, my entire body freezing as water douses the electricity. Unease prickles the back of my neck, my stomach sinking. Suddenly, the wine throbs in my temples as insecurities unfurl in my mind like fog. Is he apologizing for the past or for something in the future, something I can’t even admit to myself. “What?”
Lachlan steps back, his hands dropping to my thighs, gripping my exposed flesh. I gaze up at his serious expression, his eyes blazing with regret. “I’m sorry for not telling you years ago how I feel about you. I’m sorry for sending mixed signals and doing one thing but saying another.”
I swallow, my body trembling. Partly from hope and partly with fear for whatever Lachlan is going to say next.
“How do you feel?” I whisper.
Lachlan cringes, anguish contorting his features. “And I’m sorry you even have to ask that question.” He cups my cheeks, his thumbs brushing over my cheekbones, his fingers lacing into my hair. “I love you, Keira Kearns. I’ve been a little bit in love with you since the first time I kissed you in this cellar, and I didn’t know what to do with that. I never meant to hurt you, and I hate that I have.” He drops his forehead to mine, his eyes closing in pain. “I’ve always been yours, Keira.”
Tears collect in my eyes, the moisture hot as it falls over and tracks my cheeks. Words I’ve been waiting to hear for years rumbling in the space between us like confessions dropped in a church pew.
Lachlan brushes my tears away, his expression severe. “Keira?”
Tipping my head back, I yank his neck down. Kissing him fiercely, I admit the truth I’ve been carrying around for four agonizing years. “It’s always been you, Lach. Even when I didn’t want it to be, it’s been you. And I both love you and hate you for it.”
His breath is shaky as he exhales, his eyes wide with relief. “It’s always been you, too, Keira. Even when I was too stupid to admit it.”
I laugh, swiping a hand over my face. When I drop my hand, Lachlan studies me, his gaze intent.
“I’m not letting you go this time, Keira. And I’ll write you cheesy poems and bring you flowers and take you to every restaurant in Edinburgh for the rest of my life. But more than that, I’m here. For you. For always. For whatever the future holds. Whatever you want, or need, from me, it’s yours.”
“Good. Because, Lachlan, I want everything.” I breathe out, a hopeless romantic like my Nanna.
Lachlan nods, the right side of his mouth lifting in a grin. He wraps me in his arms, squeezing tightly as I hug him back, letting all of my worries, doubts, and insecurities drift away. After several minutes, Lachlan steps back and brushes my hair behind my shoulders.
“Let me love you, baby. The right way. The way it should have always been.”
Nodding, I let Lachlan lead me to the big house, up the stairs, down the hallway in the opposite direction of Nanna and my parents’ rooms, and into my bedroom.
Closing the door behind me, Lachlan turns, his eyes drinking me in.
The atmosphere between us swells and shrinks, too many emotions and too much time heightening the space until it’s charged. Crossing my arms in front of me, I pull my dress up and over my head, discarding it on the floor. Then, I step out of my pumps and shimmy my tights down my legs until I’m standing before Lachlan, clad in only a black bra and matching panties.
His gaze travels along my body like a caress, warming me from the inside out with the obvious appreciation and admiration gleaming from his dark eyes. “You’re the most beautiful woman on the planet, Keira.”
I smirk, reaching behind me to unclasp my bra. “Now you’re reaching.”
He snorts, but his eyes are serious when they latch onto mine. “On my soul, I swear it. No one has ever held a candle to you, babe. No one.” Stepping closer, Lach’s eyes never drop to my chest as he cups my cheeks and brings his lips to mine.
This time, he doesn’t stop.
Spinning me toward my bed, I lay back as his body covers mine. In between kisses and nips, I manage to free Lachlan from all of his clothes. When his naked body moves over mine and I grip the hard planes of his muscles, my eyes flutter closed.
His kiss is demanding, and I match his insistence with my own. Lach flips me so I’m on top, and I straddle him, my hands flat against his chest. He gazes up at me with longing, with pure adoration, with a love so strong, I drown in his eyes.
“I hope you always look at me like this.”
“From the first time I saw you, I haven’t been able to tear my eyes away,” he admits, his fingers stroking my outer thighs. “I love you, Keira Kearns.”
Folding forward, my skin pressing into his, I press kisses along Lachlan’s jaw until I can whisper in his ear. “Happy first Valentine’s Day, Lachlan.”