Sweeter Than Chocolate: Valentine's Day Anthology
Page 29
“Grace confessed she almost ruined my Valentine’s present to you, and chances are she will if I don’t go ahead and…tell you about it. I can’t give it to you yet, as it will be a work in progress for a couple of months.” He walked her to the far right of the building. “The storm took out the largest tree, and you can see we only have to remove a few smaller ones, but this is the home of the future ‘Desserts by Luckee’ shop.”
She didn’t know what to say. She told him about her dream to open and own one maybe one day in the distant future.
“I know it may be hard to envision, but hang on. I have something that will help.” He jogged off to his jeep. Coming back with a set of plans in his hands, he unrolled them. The drawing on the front page depicted a charming storefront with a huge glass window and a striped awning. “You’re the artist, so you can design the logo to go across the front. I thought we could do the checkered tile you imagined, with round top tables, and cushioned iron chairs.”
“Preston, this is so sweet and thoughtful, but I’m nowhere ready for this kind of endeavor. Besides the finances involved, it’s a huge undertaking.”
Re-rolling the plans back into the cylindrical form, he slid his arms around her and behind her back, grabbed her and hauled her into him. “It’s a good thing you have an eager investor and assistant, slash, employee.”
Tilting her chin, she gazed at his finely, chiseled face. “Are you serious? Of all the things you could invest in…you want to invest in me?”
“I want nothing more. You are a wise investment across the board, li’l lady. And between this sexy ass body of yours and the coffee macarons, I know all my cravings will be satisfied.”
Dipping his head, he captured her lips with his in a kiss so passionate, she wondered if she died and went to heaven.
The End
Where to find Sheri Lynn
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About the Author
Sheri Lynn also writes as Sheridan Knight. She writes romance across several genres-contemporary, vampire, futuristic/post-apocalyptic, and a few novellas included in anthologies she categorizes as historical suspense. She’s a hopeless romantic and can find a happily ever after in most situations and settings. First published in 2014, she has followed with thirteen additional single or anthology titles with many more coming in 2020.
Sheri believes in writing romance ‘real.’ From the initial boundless promise of a new relationship, to the doubts and uncertain realities, and onto achieving the sought after happy-endings, including all the struggles in between, that’s ‘real’ romance to her.
She grew up an Army brat, so her childhood involved moving every three years. However, truly a southern gal, she currently splits her time in Alabama and Florida with her husband, two Chihuahuas, two Golden Retrievers, a mean cat, and a turtle. She has two sons, who live on their own, a daughter in college, and a stepson and stepdaughter.
One Great Love
A Finding Love in Scotland Series Novella
Gina Azzi
3 Flames
Skip To Next Story
Copyright 2019 @GinaAzzi
Edited by: Rebecca Jaycox
About One Great Love
Four years ago, Lachlan Begay moved to London and broke my heart.
Despite my best efforts, I never truly moved on.
Every time Lach visits Scotland, we fall back into old patterns that result in new hurts.
My hurts.
Now, my heart is breaking for a different reason.
Preparing my nanna’s final Valentine’s Day gala at our family farm, the last person I need twisting my emotions is Lachlan.
But here he is, setting me on fire with a single glance.
This time, he swears he’s mine.
This time, he promises me a future.
This time, he says all the words I’ve been waiting years to hear.
The only problem?
I don’t believe him.
Chapter One
Keira
“Keira Kearns.”
My eyes close at the sound of his voice saying my name.
Low and rumbly.
Easy and familiar.
That voice infiltrates my dreams—both waking and sleeping.
It’s been four months since I’ve seen Lachlan Begay, four months since I’ve found myself tangled up in his sheets, and still, the sound of his voice does things to my insides.
My insides in the nether region, if you catch my drift.
“Lachlan Begay,” I reply, trying to keep the breathlessness from my tone. Except it’s impossible because Lachlan has the unique ability to render me speechless, breathless, and stupid with one word. Or in this case, two.
“I didn’t know you drank coffee,” he states casually, as if it’s normal for us to run into each other in the little coffee shop near his mum’s home. It’s not because he lives a glitzy, ritzy life in London while I work on Dad’s farm just outside Edinburgh.
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” I force myself to turn around and meet his gaze, a small smile pasted on my lips to be polite. “Have a nice visit with your mum, Lach.”
“Wait.” He frowns, reaching out quickly to grab my wrist. Tilting his head toward a cafe table, he sighs. “Sit for a minute. Talk to me.” I dislike his pleading tone and the twist of his mouth. But more than that, I hate the regret flaring in his midnight eyes.
Lachlan and I ended our serious college relationship days after graduation when he announced he was moving to London. He broke my heart with soft words and desperate eyes and enough remorse to keep him hovering in my periphery for the next four years. Every interaction since—too many to count—has always ended in regret.
His or mine.
His because after we spend hours pressed against each other, naked and wanting, he apologizes for not being able to give me more.
And me, because I never stop hoping for the more. The bit that comes after the sex. The cuddling and confiding and public declarations of…more. But the past year has forced me to admit what I’ve always known.
Lachlan and I were amazing together in college. But in real life, not so much.
Which is why I’ve finally jumped on board the dating train, seeing guys who’ve asked me out for years. With them, I enjoy fancy dinners and simple breakfasts, morning hikes, and late-night movies. It’s been fun and exciting but something is always missing.
None of them draw me in the way Lachlan does with one searing glance.
One pleading word.
Sighing, even as my heart gallops in my chest, and my palms grow clammy, and my head curses me for being such a stupid, naive girl, I walk to the cafe table and sit.
Lachlan retrieves his coffee and a couple of scones and joins me, pushing the paper bag closer. “Are these still your favorite?”
I peek into the bag, breathing in the fresh scent of the berry scone and nod, picking off a piece and popping it into my mouth.
“How’ve you been, Keira?” he asks, his voice a frustrating rasp, his eyes searching mine.
“Fine.” I chew my scone slowly, tilting my head to study him. “I like your hair like this.”
He rubs a hand down the back of his head, a smirk glancing off his lips. His black hair is styled differently now. Shorter on the sides, longer on top, I imagine what he looks like first
thing in the morning, before he runs product through it. Soft enough to run my fingers through, long enough to grip when we’re kissing.
“Thanks.” He leans closer, dipping his head to catch my gaze. “I saw your dad’s announcement in the paper.”
Nodding, I take a long swig of my coffee, wincing as it burns the roof of my mouth.
Of course he saw the announcement.
My family’s farm hosts an annual Valentine’s day gala that all the locals look forward to.
Except this year, Dad’s practically throwing the farm’s entire annual events budget behind the gala. Not because it’s the most important or lucrative event the farm hosts.
But because it brings Nanna joy. And right now, Nanna deserves all the happiness and comfort we can offer her.
His hand travels over the table slowly, his touch tender as his fingers slide over my wrist.
“How bad is she, Keira?” His voice is low, heavy with sadness.
Pulling the scone out of the bag with my free hand, I shove a giant bite into my mouth. Of course news travels fast in our little circle of friends. And while Lachlan and I are no longer real friends, just occasionally friendly, he would have heard through the grapevine that Nanna’s health took a turn for the worst over the holidays, and now we’re just praying for her to enjoy one last gala.
His fingertips graze over my inner wrist, tracing lazy eights.
My blood warms automatically at his touch, simmering from his genuine concern. “Tell me,” he murmurs, his eyes blazing black. Too dark to decipher.
“As bad as it could be,” I admit on a whisper. “The doctor said three to six months. This will be her last gala, and she’s desperate to attend. Dad wanted to cancel, but Nanna insisted, something about one last great love.” I shake my head, my voice cracking from the tears tightening my throat. “You know Nanna. A hopeless romantic with too much hope.”
“No.” He shakes his head, his voice tender, his expression softening. “Nanna’s got it right. It’s the rest of us who are doing it all wrong.”
Shrugging, I sip my coffee in a poor attempt to control my emotions. I never liked the taste much, but after the last few months, caffeine has been the only thing keeping me going through the endless days and worrisome nights. “It’s going to be spectacular. I need this event to bring her the peace she’s yearning for. It’s where she and my granda met.”
“I know.”
“She keeps speaking about a great love to carry the tradition forward, and I don’t know what she means.” I swipe my fingers under my right eye, averting my gaze. “But if the gala will make her happy, then it’s going to be the greatest one Kearns Farm has ever held.”
“What do you need?”
I rear back as if he’s slapped me. “The Kearns don’t accept charity, Lachlan.”
He swallows, swearing under his breath, as his fingers grip my wrist harder. “I know that, Kiera. I wasn’t…” He shakes his head, “Let me help with the marketing.”
Closing my eyes, I swallow. Of course Lachlan wants to help. He adores Nanna, has from the moment he met her six years ago. But can I really work with him? After all these years, so much history, too many hurts and never enough affection, could I set my stupid, messy emotions aside and—
“Please, Keira.”
Opening my eyes, I take in Lachlan’s solemn expression. The worry shadowing his eyes, the tightness of his jawline. “How long are you visiting for?”
“Two weeks.”
“Why?” My heart thuds in my chest. Nerves prickle the base of my spine as my hand stiffens under his. It’s unusual for Lachlan to be home again so soon after the holidays. Has he met someone? Is he here to visit her?
Long ago, when he first moved to London, he would come back to see me. But those weekend trips faded out and our new norm, random hook-ups and an occasional drunk text, replaced them.
“Sierra’s in town with the baby.”
“Oh.” I smile, relief flooding my bloodstream, as I remember that his little sister gave birth to a baby girl last summer. “Your mum must be happy.”
“Over the moon,” he agrees, leaning back in his chair, his hold on me slipping.
Immediately, I feel the loss of his touch and hate myself for being so in tune to him. To his proximity, his mood, his convoluted emotions. Lachlan Begay has been playing me like a fiddle since the first day I met him.
What’s worse? I’ve allowed it to continue in various degrees after our breakup.
Because he never lied. He never told me one thing and did another. From the week following graduation, when he accepted a job at his stepfather’s marketing firm, he was honest that his career was his number one priority.
But the chemistry between us, the connection we shared, my God. A small part of me, the tiny portion that always kept me anchored to Lachlan was the belief that eventually, he’d change.
If I could hold on long enough, he would finally realize how great we are together. How beautiful our future could be.
Except I’m too tired now to hang onto anything, especially not a stupid notion about changing the man who broke my heart. Now, it’s easier, and a hell of a lot more convenient, to date the men who live in Edinburgh. Who can grab a last-minute dinner or sneak in a lunch date. And right now, that’s Lorne Campbell.
He's nice and sweet. Considerate and generous. Incredibly handsome.
He makes me smile and forget all the things happening at home. At least for a little while.
Fine, he doesn’t light my body up like a firecracker or make me feel like I’m floating in outer space, untethered to anything but him. But maybe that type of passion is overrated.
For one thing, it’s too damn complicated.
For another, it’s unpredictable.
Lachlan Begay is like a live wire and right now, I need steady. Secure.
Right now, Lorne Campbell is the safer choice.
“Keira,” Lach says, his brow threading.
“All right,” I say finally. “You can help.”
“I’d like that. Listen, I—”
I hold up my hand, stopping him. “Things between us are good, right?”
He stares at me for a long moment, his jaw tightening at whatever he reads in my expression. “We’re always good, Keira.”
“Great. I’m sure my dad will appreciate your marketing expertise.” I stand, picking up my to-go coffee cup.
“Of course.” Lachlan scrambles to his feet, his expression wary, his mouth pinched. “I know you have a lot going on but if you need anything, or want to talk—”
“I’m fine. We’re meeting tomorrow at the farm at six pm to discuss the event. If you’re serious about helping, I’ll see you there.” I offer a small smile and, for the first time ever, I turn my back on Lachlan Begay.
***
“You saw him, my dear, didn’t you?” Nanna asks, her eyes all-knowing, even as the knitting needles in her shaky hands clack together.
“How do you know?” I laugh, placing a tray with two teacups on the table next to her.
“That lad always made you dreamy.” Nanna places down her knitting needles, ignoring the lack of progress on the scarf she’s been working on for the past month.
“He’s always made me furious, that’s what he makes me.”
Nanna laughs before it turns into a cough. Grabbing a handkerchief, I press it into her hand until her coughing settles down. She shakes her head, her eyes watery but clear. “Keira, any man who can light you up with that much passion is worth keeping. Don’t give up on him yet.”
“I’m seeing Lorne now, Nanna.”
“And he’s a wonderful lad. Has a great sense of humor. He’s easy on the eyes.”
I snort.
“But Lachlan, he sees you. Even when you think he’s not noticing, he sees the very essence of you, Keira. Why do you think he’s never properly let you go?”
“Because he’s annoying.”
“Then why haven’t you given up on him?”
Nanna grins, her eyes brightening. “Because you both know, deep down, that there’s unfinished business.”
“Nanna.” I sigh.
“Boys are late bloomers, my dear. Takes them longer to do everything. Potty-training, managing money responsibly, learning their own hearts.” Nanna stops ticking off the examples on her fingers to take the mug of tea I pass her. She takes a sip, the corners of her mouth curling upwards. “But when those boys grow into men, they’re the sticking kind. After all, it took them so long to finally commit to what they’ve always wanted. And Lachlan, he’s a good, sticking kind of man, Keira.”
I shake my head, squeezing Nanna’s hand. “I’m tired of giving him so many chances.”
“Then let him earn them.” She smiles, her eyes twinkling. “Might even be a wee bit of fun, aye?”
Chuckling, I nod. “Aye, Nanna. You’ll be pleased to know he wants to help with the gala.”
“Wonderful news.”
“So, he’ll be here tomorrow at six.”
“Good. He’s been gone for so long. It’s time for him to come home.”
Chapter Two
Lachlan
“You’re annoying me.”
“I’m doing no such thing,” my sister, Sierra, replies, sticking her tongue out at me. I don’t need to look up to know what she’s doing; I’ve been in tune with Sierra’s irritating qualities since the moment she was born, and it hasn’t made me love her any less.
“You’re teaching your daughter childish antics.” I grin up at my adorable niece, Luna Mae, as I tie my trainers.
“Nah, that’s what Denver’s for,” my sister quips, sitting on a chair in Mom’s living room and bouncing Luna on her knee.