by Gina Kincade
“Yes.”
I pull back, wrenching my wrists from his hold. “Are you fucking kidding me? With all your confusing signals and inconsistent signs? Do I really mean so little to you that you think tossing me leftovers is somehow enough for me?”
Lachlan swears, closing his eyes. When he opens them, they’re overflowing with regret, remorse, and…apology. “No. I know I haven’t been enough for you. But I want to.”
“You’re too late.”
“Don’t say that.” He reaches for me again, holding me tighter this time. My chest heaves against his abdomen, my hands trembling in his. Anger and hurt roll through me, vibrating in my veins and causing my throat to dry. “Please. Give me one more chance.”
“You’re chances ran out over a year ago,” I admit, glancing down at our clasped hands, my breathing ragged.
Lachlan glares at me, his gaze midnight, his face carved from stone. I breathe in his exhales as he swallows mine and the intensity between us flickers. Swallowing thickly, I know I should pull away. Put space between us. Deny him.
I hate the sorrow in his gaze, the barely concealed fury in his face.
I hate that he still affects me. Has always affected me.
I hate that right now, in this moment, I want to hurl myself into his embrace and smack him and kiss him and consume him all in the same heartbeat.
Opening my mouth, I begin to pull away but Lachlan growls. “I don’t believe you.” His voice is low, guttural, filled with anguish and a desperation that licks at my insides.
Tightening his hold, he wraps his arms around me and drops his head, kissing me with reckless abandon and wild intent. His mouth is hard against mine, laced with agony. His hands slide up my back and I shiver, digging my nails into his shoulder blades, hoping I score his skin.
He nips at my mouth until my lips part and his tongue sweeps in, dueling with mine in an attempt for control. A moan sounds in the air around us, jolting me back to the present.
Lifting my hands, I press against his chest. Immediately, Lachlan breaks the kiss, his eyes hard when they meet mine. But his voice, God, his voice is like syrup when he murmurs, “Please, Keira. One more shot. I was an idiot after uni, and my only defense for leaving is that I was young and stupid and impressed with the job opportunity and lure of London. These past four years, I’d come home to see my mom and hope that I’d run into you at the coffee shop or hear from one of our friends some morsel of information about you. I’d make my sister look up your social media profiles. And every damn time we’d see each other out and I’d end up in your bed, you’d fucking kill me. With how damn sweet and caring and giving you are. So, yeah, I’d back off. Because deep down, I always knew I wasn’t ready. That I’d never give you what you deserve. Because you deserve it all, Keira. The family and the children and the apple picking.”
He remembers.
My hands literally shake at the realization, my lips still stinging with his kiss.
After all this time, Lachlan still remembers the night we watched for shooting stars and traced the Big Dipper with our fingers.
Emotion clogs my throat, and I work to swallow past the mixture of hope and doubts. “So, what’s different now?” I whisper.
“Besides you seeing Lorne Campbell?”
I scoff, averting my gaze.
But my stomach clenches.
Lorne! I didn’t even consider him when Lachlan’s lips touched mine.
I didn’t even think about his feelings or a future with him the moment Lachlan’s hands moved up my back.
Damn it.
I have to tell Lorne.
Even though we aren’t exclusive, even though we’re keeping things casual, he deserves the truth.
And, I have morals.
Although they’re clearly cloudy.
Lachlan steps closer, hooking his finger under my chin and forcing my head up. His eyes bore into mine, serious and unflinching. “I am. I’m different.”
“Really?” I ask, sarcasm heavy in my tone.
“Really. I’m not going anywhere this time, Keira. And I hope like hell I’m not too late. But I’ll take on Campbell and prove to you I’m your guy. This time, if anyone is going to jam on the breaks, it’ll have to be you.”
I take a deep breath, letting his words wash over me.
And of course, they’re the words I’ve been desperate to hear for so long, but can’t quite accept.
Because why is this time any different than six months ago when I woke up alone after hours of twisting my bedsheets with Lach? The constant pang in my chest has alleviated to a dull ache. So much so, that four months ago, I slipped out of his bed when he was still asleep and let him wake up alone. Then, a month later, I accepted Lorne’s invitation to dinner.
Is he only interested now because I’m kind of moving on?
As much as I want to believe him, the flicker of doubt that he repeatedly caused flares to life.
“Prove it,” I say, backing away, and for the second time in just as many days, I walk away from Lachlan Begay.
And still, part of my heart remains with him.
Foolish heart.
***
“The boys are here early this year,” Nanna comments at breakfast the following morning.
Glancing out the window, I see the crew unloading the decorations and materials for the barn. In a handful of days, the great space will be transformed. However, unlike past years when it looked like Hallmark vomited pink confetti and red heart-shaped balloons, this year’s gala embodies a different vision.
Calm.
Serene.
Peaceful.
Whites, creams, peaches, and pinks.
Candles and firefly lights.
This year’s event is less of a dance and more of a gala. This year’s event is a tribute to Nanna.
Even though Valentine’s Day is cheesy and commercial and romance on steroids, I still love the holiday. Mainly because it reminds people to make little gestures of devotion to the ones they care about. Sure, they should probably do those things all year long, but who am I to hate on a celebration of love?
“Oh God, are those doves?” I squint at the bird cage being pulled from the back of a van.
Nanna looks up, her eyes twinkling. “It’s just a test run.”
“Nanna, I thought you were giving Dad a hard time about this being too much of a spectacle.”
Nanna shrugs, shifting the blanket on her lap, so her hands are covered. “If you can’t beat them…”
“Joining right in, are ye?”
“Aye.” She nods. “And you should, too.”
Rolling my eyes, I let the curtain fall and make my way to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee.
“That much caffeine isn’t good for you, lass,” Nanna clucks.
“I know.”
“You’re working too hard.”
“I’m fine.”
“You need to let someone in, carry the burden every now and then.”
Turning, I smile at her over my shoulder. “Like you?”
“Aye,” Nanna says, her eyes taking on a faraway gleam. “Arthur and I were always a team. Right from the beginning. From the very first Valentine’s Day dance, we weren’t so fancy as to have galas then, you know? But right from our first dance together, our steps were perfectly in sync, and I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That he was my soulmate.”
“Oh, Nanna. I love you, but I don’t believe in soulmates.”
Nanna chuckles, her eyes misting. “I hope you open your heart soon, Keira. In these matters, timing is everything. You’ll see.”
Shaking my head, I add cream to my coffee and drink half my mug.
Today promises more work, more bills, and more worrying over Nanna’s health.
Plus, a conversation with Lorne that I’ve been avoiding.
At the end of the day, when I slip into bed, I’m too exhausted to think about soulmates or connections or fate.
I just want eig
ht full hours of sleep.
A knock on the door interrupts my mental musings. Checking to see that Nanna is content, I walk through the foyer and pull it open.
“Keira Kearns?”
“That’s me.” I smile at the delivery man, signing for a package. “What am I signing for?”
“These flowers.” He hands me a massive bouquet of peonies, hydrangeas, and roses interspersed with lily of the valley. Artfully arranged, the pale pink, peach, and white flowers are incredibly romantic and sweet. Tied with a lace ribbon, I clutch the flowers to my chest and inhale.
“Thank you. These will make Nanna smile.”
The delivery man shrugs, and I turn back to the house, spotting the small card in the bouquet with my name written in neat letters.
My first thought is Lorne but then my heart drops to my knees and I clutch the flowers tighter.
Lachlan’s handwriting.
My heart rate ticks up, my stomach flip-flopping. Placing the flowers down on the console inside the front door, I grip the card, running my finger over my name.
Lachlan sent me flowers.
Peonies, my favorite.
I bite my bottom lip to hold back my smile, to halt my longing before it explodes into anticipation.
Lifting the tab on the envelope, I pull out the card stock, my eyes bouncing from one word to the next, barely absorbing their meaning, like a kid on Christmas morning.
Keira,
Roses are red. Violets are blue.
Peonies are your favorite. Therefore, mine too.
Couldn’t resist a cheesy note to make you laugh, but I want to do this the right way, Keira. The way you deserve. I’ll chase you for as long as you want to keep running, but let’s at least eat along the way. Dinner Friday? I’ll be at the Villa Verdun at 7pm waiting for you. Take pity and don’t stand me up.
Yours,
Lach
Snorting at his corny poem, I beam at the card as if it’s a winning lottery ticket. Sure, Lachlan and I have gone to dinner before.
For two years at university, we shared simple picnics, candlelit dinners, and everything in between.
But in recent years, our shared meals were of a different kind. More of the let’s-eat-before-we-get-naked, I’m-drunk-and-need-pizza, or want-to-grab-breakfast-after-that-wild-night variety. They were spontaneous excursions arising from our current situation.
But this, this reminds me of the old Lachlan.
A sweet note. A reservation. A reason to dress up and apply my makeup with a careful hand.
A reminder to call Lorne.
“Keira? All okay?” Nanna’s voice rings through the foyer.
“Everything is wonderful, Nanna.” I grab the bouquet off the console and head back into the kitchen.
“My, my. Aren’t those lovely.” Nanna quirks an eyebrow, her cat-ate-the-canary grin in full effect. “Whom, may I ask, sent such a lovely bouquet? Lachlan or Lorne?”
“Lachlan.” I laugh, reaching into the cupboard for a vase.
Nanna sighs. “Timing, love. It’s really everything.”
“This hardly qualifies him as my soulmate, Nanna.”
“Hardly,” Nanna agrees. “Let’s see how he does after dinner this weekend.”
Twirling around, I stare at her. “How’d you know about dinner?”
“Keira, my dear, men are wonderful. Truly incredible creatures. They’re also highly predictable. You should wear your hair up tomorrow with those stunning diamond earrings your mother gave you for your university graduation.” Nanna nods. “Yes, those will be lovely. Where’s he taking you?”
“Villa Verdun.”
Nanna sighs dreamily, clapping her hands together with glee. “Oh, lovely. Yes, that’s quite perfect, my dear.”
Shaking my head, I excuse myself from the kitchen and head up to my bedroom. Once I’m inside, with the door firmly closed, I dial Lorne’s number.
“Keira, hey. All okay?” He answers on the first ring, his tone tense.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I curse myself. Of course he’s busy at work.
Why the hell do I always date workaholics?
“Yes, I, uh, I just wanted to talk to you about something,” I mumble, nerves creeping up my neck.
Lorne sighs. “Let me guess. You saw Lachlan.”
Choking, I grip the phone tighter. “Yes. How’d you know?”
Lorne snorts. “We live in a small town, Keira. With a small circle of friends.”
“I didn’t expect this. I never—”
“I know. I’ve always known you’ve been hung up on Lachlan Begay. But Keira, I’m not going to play second place. If you want to call things quits with us, that’s fine. Just know that I’m not waiting around. And I won’t be here to pick up the pieces when Lachlan bails. Like he always does.” Lorne’s voice is harder than I’ve ever heard it, his frustration evident.
Caught off-guard, my first reaction is to defend Lachlan and I clamp my mouth shut to hold my words back.
Because what good will it do?
Of course Lorne’s irritated.
And, on some level that sparks my doubt as much as my frustration, he’s right.
Lach does bail.
Clearing my throat, I say, “I understand.”
That earns me a hard, sarcastic chuckle. “So that’s it?”
Bolting upright from my bed, my temper getting the better of me, I bite back. “Aye, Lorne. That’s it.”
“Take care of yourself, babe.” He ends the call and I freeze, turning to glance at the phone.
Lorne Campbell just hung up on me!
Snorting, I shake my head as laughter bubbles up inside.
It erupts like a fountain from my mouth and I double over, wrapping my arms around my stomach as tears prick the corners of my eyes.
“Last shot, Lachlan Begay,” I say aloud, to no one.
Then the laughter resumes and I wonder if I’m taking a leap of faith or jumping headfirst off a cliff.
Chapter Four
Lachlan
I’m already seated when Keira walks into the restaurant, but it would be impossible to miss her. Candlelight casts her auburn hair in golden hues, as she fiddles with an earring, glancing around.
Standing, I wave, and a shock of relief blossoms in her expression. She makes her way toward me as patrons from other tables glance up appreciatively.
She’s stunning. Classic and elegant, an emerald frock drapes off her shoulders, hugging her curves and ending just above her knees. Her hips sashay as she approaches, nude pumps causing her legs to stretch endlessly.
“You’re here,” she breathes when she reaches the table.
Leaning forward, I brush a kiss across her cheek. “Were you nervous I wouldn’t show?” I joke.
But the way she shrugs informs me that yes, a part of her actually thought I wouldn’t show. The realization causes shame to burn through me. I hate myself for how careless I’ve been with her feelings.
“I know it hasn’t always seemed like it, but I’ve always been here for you, Keira,” I murmur, pulling out her chair. The hairs on her arm stand as the sleeve of my coat brushes against her.
She slips into the chair and glances at me. “I know. Just not the way I hoped.”
Nodding, I sit across from her and reach across the table, covering her hand with mine. “One more chance?”
Flashing a saucy grin, her nerves dissipate as her usual humor colors her cheeks. “Last one, Lach.”
“I only need one. What’re you drinking?”
“Wine.” She scans the wine list. “Let’s get the bottle of Chateau Magdalene Emilion.”
“Perfect.”
When the server approaches our table and looks to me, I enjoy his surprise as Keira rattles off the bottle of wine, her French impeccable. We decide on our entrees while the server decants our bottle and once we’ve ordered, Keira lifts her glass in my direction. “To new beginnings.”
“To second chances.” I clink my glass against hers, taking a long
sip of the smooth Bordeaux. “Are you excited for the Valentine’s Day ball?”
Placing down her glass, her eyes gleam. “Yes. Nanna is delighted. The crews started converting the barn into a Valentine’s Day wonderland yesterday. It’s going to be beautiful.”
“I’m sure.”
“And I’ve noticed your social media efforts. We’ve had so much more interest already. Vendors reaching out from Edinburgh to contribute to the silent auction. A well-known baker has agreed to add cupcakes to the dessert table. It’s been more than we could have hoped for.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” A trickle of relief drips down my spine. I’ve been pushing the gala hard through my network, reaching out to old friends and new contacts. My cousin Finn’s girlfriend, Daisy, has eagerly volunteered to contact all the American-owned bakeries she frequents. “I’m sure some doughnut shops will be next.”
Keira quirks an eyebrow, and I explain Daisy’s penchant for American baked goods. Laughing, Keira smiles, her cheeks rosy from the wine. “We’ll gladly accept all contributions.”
“I’m sure. So, the farm looks so different now. Do you like the new direction of renting it out as a venue?”
Keira pauses, her fingers reaching up to clasp her earring. Slowly, she nods. “It’s not what I originally envisioned for the farm or for my own future. But now that we’re moving in a new direction, I do love the celebrations that take place in the space. The farm has always been such a magical place for me, ever since I was a child. I’ve celebrated important milestones there, and it’s nice to see other people, other couples, find a slice of happiness in a spot I love so much.”
Leaning back in my chair, I sip my wine, glancing at Keira over the rim. “A few milestones come to mind.”
She blushes, grinning cheekily. “I have no idea what you’re referring to, Lachlan.”
“No?” I ask, moving closer and lowering my voice. “A night under the stars, or in the stables, or between the shelves of raspberry preserves?”
Keira giggles, the sound light and airy and relaxed. Staring at her now, with ribbons of gold weaved throughout her thick hair, the column of her neck graceful, her shoulders at ease, I can’t believe I ever had the immense pleasure of knowing this woman intimately.
