by Unknown
Lana chuckled, her gaze returning to Laird as he chatted up Sutton and she jerked her attention back to Emma with a shrug. “I guess you were right: time to start living again.”
Emma caught the quick glance and frowned but she didn’t have time to remind Lana of all the reasons Laird was wrong for her, and for that, Lana was grateful. She had bigger problems and hustled over to Vince with a wide, confident smile that would’ve given any Oscar-willing actress a run. Go get ‘em, big sister. Lana smiled and turned to find something to drink when she was startled by an incredibly handsome man wearing a tailored suit and a charming smile. “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there,” she apologized with a short embarrassed laugh.
“No worries. The fault is mine. Please tell me you’re not attached because these family parties are dreadfully boring without a beautiful distraction,” he said, hazel eyes twinkling. “And you, my sweet, would brighten any occasion.”
“Do all the Buchanans take a class on how to charm women?” she teased, allowing him to kiss her hand.
He grinned, saying, “You can’t teach natural born talent.”
How could she not laugh? His confidence bordered on arrogance but he was devilishly handsome and he knew it. The fact that he wasn’t afraid to wield his charm with impunity was both intriguing and mystifying. She swore that the Buchanan world of extreme wealth was something she’d never understand. “You must be…Sutton Buchanan?” she surmised, thanks to Emma’s hastily whispered intel.
“You have me at a disadvantage. You know my name but I still don’t know yours.”
Suddenly Laird was at her side, possessively sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her close, shocking Lana as electrical currents danced beneath her skin at the contact. “Sutton, it’s nice to see you never change,” Laird said, his tone faintly laced with something that Lana didn’t recognize. “Always bee-lining for the prettiest girl in the room. Too bad she’s not available.”
“Laird Tiechert. Still hanging around the Buchanans, I see. Don’t you have your own family to bother?”
“I do but the Buchanans offer no shortage of entertainment,” Laird answered smoothly.
“Forgive poor Laird, he comes from a blue-collar background — construction at that — sometimes he forgets his manners. You were just about to introduce yourself when we were rudely interrupted.”
“Her name is Lana and as I said, unavailable.” This time there was no mistaking the hard tone but Sutton just chuckled at Laird’s unaccountable rudeness. There was certainly some kind of history between the two and Lana couldn’t help but shiver at the difference in Laird who was usually so laid-back. “Vince, I think Sutton could use another drink,” Laird said, drawing Vince’s attention.
Vince, seeing that Sutton and Laird were like circling dogs, came over and grabbed his cousin with an annoyed sigh. “When are you going to stop being such a prick, Sutton? I swear, leave off, for crying out loud,” he muttered, practically dragging the cousin away.
Laird gripped Lana’s hand and took her out of the drawing room, into a private office off the main hallway. “Laird, what are you—“ but before she could finish the question, he’d sealed his mouth to hers in an urgent kiss that rocked her foundation. When he broke the kiss, they were both breathless. “What was that all about?” she managed to ask once she could speak.
“Sutton Buchanan is a dick. Always has been and always will be. And…we have a bit of history together.”
“As Vince’s best friend, that doesn’t surprise me,” Lana said dryly. “But you can rest assured I wasn’t snowed by his gentleman routine. It takes more than a pretty face to compel me to trust someone these days.”
Laird’s expression turned serious yet warm as he dipped his head and swept his lips across hers, drawing her close as if he couldn’t stop himself from touching her. It was heady and addictive, something she barely remembered except with Laird. “Why did you say I wasn’t available?” she asked breathlessly.
“Because you aren’t. Not for him.”
That wasn’t exactly what she’d hoped for but she should’ve been grateful because she didn’t know what she wanted or expected from Laird. “Shouldn’t we go back to the party? People will start to talk.”
“Let them,” he said carelessly, rubbing his thumb across her bottom lip as if mesmerized by her. “I’d rather leave. If I’d known the cousins were coming, I would’ve declined the invite.”
“Is there that much bad blood between you and the other Buchanans?”
“It’s complicated. Vince is my best friend but Sutton and me…we aren’t buds.”
“I can see that.”
Laird hesitated a moment, then asked, “You want to get out of here? Go someplace else?”
“I can’t. I promised I would be a buffer for Emma. She thinks that Whitney doesn’t like her.”
“Ah, yeah, Whitney…” His chagrined expression told her that he had history with Whitney, too.
“Oh God, please tell you haven’t slept with Whitney Buchanan,” she said, cringing. She really hated that idea. But when he didn’t deny it, she groaned. “Great.”
“It was a long time ago,” he assured her. “We were high school age. There’s been nothing since and there will definitely be nothing going forward. You know how the reputation of the Buchanans is a pretty wild one? Well, Whitney is probably the wildest. Frankly, I’m surprised she’s still alive. The woman used to have quite a habit, if you know what I mean.”
“Let me guess…coke?”
“Yeah but you didn’t hear that from me. I don’t want to spread rumors. For all I know she’s matured and is a different person but I know too much about the woman. Way too much.”
“Now I definitely don’t want to leave Emma,” she said, wrinkling her brow. “Especially with Emma being…” she almost said pregnant but stopped just shy of spilling the beans. Laird gave her a funny look but she just shook her head and said, “I just can’t leave her like that. She needs me.”
He sighed with regret and it actually warmed her a little to know that he wanted to leave to spend time with her. “All right, I’ll stay but Sutton better keep his paws off you for the rest of the night or I might just remove them at the wrist. It’d be the least that he deserves.”
“Are you going to tell me what he did to you or leave me in the dark?”
“He’s just a spoiled prick.”
“Forgive me, but aren’t you also a bit spoiled?” she ventured tentatively, not wanting to hurt his feelings.
“Not like the Buchanans. The Tiecherts are new money; the Buchanans are as blue-blooded as they come. Generations of wealth — and Sutton never missed an opportunity to point that out.”
“So he was a bully?”
“Yeah.”
Knowing that Laird had suffered at the hands of a bully when he was younger made him seem more three-dimensional. Intellectually, she knew that he was more than just a rich guy who’d never known a day of struggle in his life but it was hard to see more than that when she’d been closed off to the human being he truly was. She didn’t think it was possible but suddenly he seemed ten times more attractive than before — and that was a feat. She surprised him when she lifted on her toes and planted a soft kiss on his lips. When she dropped back down to her heels, she grinned shyly at him, loving that he was caught off-guard in the best way possible. “I never got the chance to thank you for taking care of me all those months ago. You could’ve taken advantage but you never did. You might not want to admit it but you’re a good man Laird Tiechert.”
He ran his index finger lightly across her cheek, a playful smile playing on his lips. “Don’t go spreading vicious gossip. I have a reputation to protect.”
She smiled and grabbed his hand, leading him out of the private room, saying, “Maybe it’s time to make a new reputation.”
He eyed her with something akin to reluctant curiosity but also intrigue. “Which would be?”
To that she just gave him her sw
eetest, most beguiling smile and for a moment, she could’ve sworn his knees buckled.
And that just about made her day.
-8-
Dinner seemed interminably long, particularly when he had to suffer through the obviously flirtatious comments Sutton kept lobbing Lana’s way as if he couldn’t see Laird shooting lasers at him from across the expansive table. What was wrong with him? Sutton was a prick and always had been. Nothing had changed. So what if he was into Lana, who was he to say they couldn’t become close. It’s not as if he were officially attached to Lana and vice versa but even as the thought zipped through his brain, every muscle clenched as if he were preparing for war.
Fuck this. What, jealousy? Is that what this was? Unreal.
And not his style.
But Lana glowed, outshining each of the beautiful women at the table and he wasn’t just saying that to be nice. She had an inner grace that just oozed from her pores, spilling out in radiant beauty that took his breath away so was it any wonder that Sutton was panting after her like a rutting dog?
How many times had he sat at this very table under different circumstances? More than he could count. The Buchanan place was like a second home, particularly when his old man had tossed him out more than a few times in his misguided youth. Vince had always made sure he had a place to crash. So inevitably, there were times that the other Buchanans were there, too. Good times, bad times.
He contributed little to the ongoing conversations, watching as Vince, Nolan and Dillon doted on their women — that in itself was a surreal experience — and he half wondered if it were possible to have what they had…family, stability…hell, being a grown up.
Shit, his dad would die from a heart attack if he suddenly became a functioning member of society.
Whitney rose from her place, presumably to refill her wine glass but when she dropped his way, sliding her fingertips along his shoulders, he could fairly feel the interest coming off her in waves. He shot a quick look Lana’s way and saw the narrowed stare she was sending Whitney. If looks could kill, Lana could’ve been a sniper. “We should catch up while I’m in town,” she whispered in his ear. “I’m feeling nostalgic. Remember that night in the pool, when everyone was asleep…”
He chuckled. “It’s been a long time, Whitney,” he agreed, playing along but he held no real interest in hooking up with the tigress. “Maybe another time.”
“Suit yourself. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
Not even if the world was ending, he thought privately even as he gave Whitney a flirty smile.
Suddenly, Emma stood and lightly tapped her water glass to get everyone’s attention. Once all eyes were on her, Emma looked nervously to her husband and said, “This is bad timing but I can’t hold it in any longer and I figured, maybe this is the best way to do it — one fell swoop and everyone knows.”
“Knows what?” Vince asked, confused. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. Better than fine. Actually…um, well, the thing is…you’re, I mean, we, are going to have a baby.”
There was a stunned beat of silence and then all hell broke loose as Shannon, Penny and Lana began crying and happily babbling with congratulations while the cousins clapped politely. Laird could care less about their reactions, he wanted to know how his best friend felt about becoming a dad and swiveled his attention to Vince.
And then he nearly lost it.
Vince — a man who was probably the toughest son-of-a-bitch he knew — looked ready to pitch forward in a dead faint. Nolan clapped his brother on the back with a hearty congratulations and Vince offered a stunned smile in return. The man look terrified — and Laird wasn’t the only one he saw it.
“Are you happy?” Emma asked, her voice breaking as she returned to her seat, suddenly scared. “Maybe I should’ve broken the news in private.”
Emma’s uncertainty broke past his initial reaction and he gathered her in his arms and held her tight, forgetting the rest of the table and focusing solely on his wife. “I love you so much,” he said with a hoarse rasp. “I love you so, so much.”
Vince was scared of being like his father, Laird realized, with a pang of anguish for his friend but he also knew Vince would figure it out that he was nothing like that asshole who raised him and the brothers. Nothing. And he would be a great dad. The kind of dad Vince had always wished he’d had. How did he know that? Because he’d seen what fatherhood had done for Nolan and Dillon — a fucking miracle.
Lana was wiping away happy tears of her own and he realized with a chuckle Lana had known all along and had almost told him the secret a few moments ago. Good to know that Lana had a hard time keeping a secret.
A sense of urgency gripped him that came out of nowhere. He was happy for Vince but he was ready to call it an evening and when he did…he was taking Lana with him.
Tonight, Lana was going to be his.
Of that, he was certain.
And frankly, he couldn’t stand to waste another second without her beneath him.
***
Lana, still giddy from the good news and the second glass of champagne she’d enjoyed, smiled brightly up at Laird as he took her hand and gently pulled her from her chair. “I think it’s time to call it a night,” he told her and she willingly rose from the table, eyes on Laird, happy to allow him to take the lead. She nodded and Laird said their goodbyes. Emma caught her eye and minutely shook her head but Lana wasn’t interested in another debate about how Laird was a terrible person and not right for her. Besides, Emma had her hands full with her own stuff, she could butt out of Lana’s for the evening. “We’ll take my car,” Laird said, helping her into her coat. “Your car will be fine here for the night.”
She nodded, her heart warm and light for the first time in ages. “And just where are we going?” she asked.
“My place,” he answered smoothly as if it were completely natural for her to go home with him. A flutter of anticipation mingled with the lingering fear that lived in her heart and she realized if she was ever going to be normal again, she’d have to start acting normal. She felt safe with Laird. He’d never hurt her. But what if she had a flash back again? What if she freaked out and ran to hide in a corner as she sobbed and shook because she couldn’t handle sexual contact?
Laird’s hand, masculine and strong, covered hers with a reassuring squeeze as they approached his car, a sporty BMW that practically screamed, I’m better than you and I like showing it off, and he said in a gentle, but firm voice, “I will never ask anything of you that you aren’t ready to give” and she instantly relaxed. She nodded and climbed into the car, sliding easily into the soft black leather and amazed at the opulent luxury. Sometimes she forgot just how different their worlds were.
“What if I can’t…” she let the sentence trail; he knew what she meant.
“Then we don’t do anything but hang out. Maybe I’ll cash in that raincheck.”
He was being so sweet, so tender. Was this real? Please be real. The plea, whispered through her heart and she knew, in spite of her best efforts, she was falling hard for Laird. Maybe she’d fallen for him months ago when he’d asked nothing of her and had simply been an unexpected friend during a time of turmoil and uncertainty. Maybe she’d known all along that Laird could be the one to help her heal…or maybe she was completely out of her depth and about to drown.
Either way, she knew when she’d accepted his invitation that something was going to happen. One way or another, she’d find out if she were truly broken or if with the right tools, she could be fixed.
Only one way to find out.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing.
Laird will never hurt you…
-9-
Laird’s house wasn’t a shack by any means but it was modest in comparison to the Buchanan mansion. Lana enjoyed the architecture of the house and even though it could use a woman’s touch — bean bag chair? Really? — it was a nice place. Being bac
k at Laird’s reminded her of how sweet he’d been when she’d been at the height of her paranoid seclusion. She’d always wondered why he’d been so kind, so understanding when they’d been practical strangers.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked, flipping on lights and going into the kitchen. Everything was as she remembered it. Granite countertops, top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances with modern decor. Much nicer than her place, for sure. He cracked open a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass. She accepted the glass and smiled as he proposed a toast. “To new beginnings,” he suggested.
“To new beginnings,” she agreed with a murmur as she sipped the wine. She wasn’t a connoisseur but the wine was smooth as silk with a rich, smoky after flavor that tickled her senses. “Very good,” she said. “I mean, I can only imagine that it’s the best, right?”
“Actually, I like what I like. I don’t much care if it’s some ridiculous vintage and cost an exorbitant amount,” he said, surprising her with his honest answer. “Maybe that’s what Sutton would call low-class but I don’t give a shit. I’ve never been one to chase after the opinions of others.”
“An admirable quality,” she said.
“I’ve always thought so.”
She regarded him for a long moment, the intimacy of the moment growing. It felt so completely natural to be there with him even though it shouldn’t. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Why were you so kind to me all those months ago?”
Laird hesitated, swirling his wine gently as he considered his answer. Finally, he shrugged as if unsure himself but said, “You’d been through something I could never imagine. You didn’t need some asshole giving you a hard time. At the time I was so angry that someone was using the club to do bad things to women that I would’ve done anything to see that person caught. That’s why I agreed to watch over you while Emma was with Vince but once I met you…I don’t know, I just felt…protective.”
