by Bree Wolf
Gritting her teeth, sweet, cheerful Maggie seemed to be fighting for control. “D’ye truly think ‘tis a coincidence that the moment Vaughn started smiling at ye, Finn couldna seem to stand the man any longer? He’s jealous,” she hissed, her blue eyes holding Emma’s as though wanting to make certain that her friend understood.
Emma swallowed, ignoring the little dance her heart was currently performing in her chest. “Jealous? Nah, ye canna mean that. He hates me. He only ever glares at me. He has ever since that morning when−”
“Oh, I wish I had known ye back then,” Maggie interrupted, hands gesturing wildly as she began to pace. “I wish I’d come to Seann Dachaigh Tower a year earlier. I wish I’d been here for I would’ve pushed ye to seek him out again the next day and steal another kiss.”
“What?”
Maggie stopped, her eyes hard, before she walked over to Emma with sure steps until their noses almost touched. “I’ll never believe he’s been angry with ye for all these years because ye kissed him. That’s nonsense. Even if he hadn’t liked it, he wouldna have acted like that. He would’ve laughed it off and gone on his merry way.” Maggie’s breath came in rapid gasps, and for a moment, she closed her eyes and then inhaled a deep breath. “Perhaps I should’ve spoken to ye sooner, pushed ye to see what is right in front of yer eyes.” Looking at Emma, Maggie sighed, her eyes now brimming with tears. “I didna because I didna think ‘twas my place to meddle in other people’s affairs.” Her lips pressed into a tight line, and for a moment, Emma thought she saw a memory cross over Maggie’s face. “Others often think they know what’s right, but they dunno. They push and they prod until they get what they want, and then…ye choose the wrong path and all is lost.”
Misery now stood on Maggie’s face, and Emma walked over pulling her friend into her arms. At first, the slender young woman resisted, but then her head sank down onto Emma’s shoulder and she inhaled a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry for yer pain,” Emma whispered into Maggie’s auburn hair, wondering what had happened in her friend’s past. Never had Maggie spoken of anything that would explain the pain and loss she had seen in her blue eyes just now.
All people ever talked about was how Maggie had come to Scotland to visit her mother’s clan and then had stayed because she had fallen in love with Ian MacDrummond and married him.
That was the story Emma knew, but apparently there was more to it than she ever would have thought.
Pulling back, Maggie ran her hands over her eyes and wiped away her tears. “Ye think too much, Emma,” she said, the ghost of a smile tugging on the corners of her lips. “Nothing good ever comes of it when people think too much. The heart wants what it wants, and no amount of reasonable thinking or good intentions can change that.” Grasping Emma’s hands, Maggie looked at her, her eyes intense, almost pleading. “Ye’re lucky, Emma. Ye still have a chance to marry the man ye love, and if that man is Vaughn, then I willna say another word.” Her hands squeezed Emma’s. “But if it’s not, then please, please, go and speak to Finn. Tell him how ye feel, or ye will regret it for the rest of yer life.” She swallowed. “I promise ye that.”
Holding her friend’s gaze, Emma felt her limbs begin to tremble. With what, she could not say. Maggie’s sorrow touched her, frightened her, and yet, the thought of laying open her heart and have Finn stomp on it scared her nearly witless. “Is there anything I can do?” she whispered, searching Maggie’s face. “D’ye wish to talk about−?”
“No,” Maggie said vehemently. “I’ve made my choice. What’s done is done. But ye’re still at the beginning of yer story. Make certain ye choose the right man or it will turn into a tragedy, and I dunno want that for ye.” After squeezing Emma’s hands one last time, Maggie returned to the cart, accepting a bunch of branches from Niall and Blair, who loved dragging them through the snow, giggling as they went.
Watching them, Emma was struck by the peacefulness of the sight before her, and yet, the look on Maggie’s face whispered of falsehood. Certainly, she loved her children, but quite obviously, she had not married the man she loved.
Emma sighed, wondering if she possessed the strength to do what Maggie had not.
Chapter Six
Definitions of a Kiss
As the sky slowly grew darker, they all gathered around the cart, making certain no one was left behind. Then they began the long walk back to Seann Dachaigh Tower. Once again, Finn’s insides twisted into a tight knot when he saw Vaughn approach Emma. The man fell in step beside her, speaking animatedly while Emma seemed distracted, her gaze distant.
Again, Finn contemplated Ian’s words as well as the vehemence with which his friend had spoken. Still, uncertainty remained, and Finn knew that there was only one way to rid himself of it. He needed to speak to Emma.
Tonight.
All of a sudden, after seven long years, Finn could not wait any longer. He needed to know so that he could make his choice in the best way possible.
Once they reached the courtyard, their little group broke apart. While Ian positioned the cart near the back entrance to the hall and then returned the horse to the stables, Maggie and Emma took the children inside to warm up. Vaughn took his leave, mumbling something about returning later, and walked down to the village where his family lived in one of the larger cottages.
“Ye’ll speak to her, won’t ye?” Garrett observed, a bit of a smirk on his face as he watched Finn.
Turning toward his friend, Finn sighed. “What gave me away?”
Garrett chuckled, “I dunno know. I guess ‘tis the look in yer eyes. Determined, and yet…terrified.”
Finn laughed, “Ye sound as though ye know the feeling well?”
“Aye,” Garrett replied with a deep sigh. “Love will do that to ye. But it’ll also make ye feel alive in a way ye’ve never felt before.” Then he patted Finn on the back, wished him good luck and walked off.
Heading into the hall, Finn kept to the shadows, watching as Maggie and Emma as well as a few other volunteers returned to their task of decorating the rows upon rows of tables set out for tomorrow’s feast. Evergreen branches were tied together and placed in the middle, then adorned with red ribbons and straw figurines. In between, they placed large candles. At first, Niall and Blair tried to help, but soon they lay passed out in a corner of the hall near the large fireplace, sound asleep.
Finn waited; however, not patiently as the mere sight of Emma so near, and yet, so far away was torture.
Before, he had always done his utmost not to be near her, to avoid her wherever possible, and whenever they had stumbled upon one another after all, he had always retreated as fast as he could have without truly giving offence. Never had he simply stood and looked at her, watched the way her brows furrowed when she was concentrating, the way her teeth sunk into her lower lip when she was getting agitated, or the way her eyes shone when she looked down at Niall and Blair, gently draping her cloak over the sleeping children.
She was magnificent, and Finn knew very well why he had never allowed himself to see her thus.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he almost failed to notice when Emma slipped from the hall, taking the corridor toward the back entrance. Presumably, Maggie had sent her to fetch more branches. Could there possibly be any left? Who on earth needed all these decorations? They would wither and die soon anyhow.
Pushing himself off the wall he had been leaning against, Finn hurried after her, careful not to draw Maggie’s attention. Quick strides carried him onward, and he came upon Emma as she was about to step outside. “Emma,” he called before all courage could desert him.
At the sound of his voice, she turned to look at him, utter surprise in her gaze. “Finn, what are ye doing here? I thought ye’d left with Garrett.”
The thought that she paid attention to his whereabouts pleased him, and he could not prevent a smile from showing on his face.
Seeing it, her gaze narrowed in confusion, and yet, the way her breath rushed from her lungs and the cor
ners of her mouth drew upward ever so slightly spoke of joy. Did she truly care about him? Was it possible that Ian was right? That he had been ever so blind?
Her eyes held his, and belatedly, Finn realised that he ought to say something. “I…I wanted to speak to ye,” he began, cursing the way his voice shook. “I need to speak to ye.”
“Aye?” Her eyes remained on his, waiting, expecting…hopeful somehow, and yet, guarded.
Finn knew only too well how that felt. Where on earth was he to begin? He could not very well ask her straight out if she cared for him, could he? Would she not laugh at him?
Clearing his throat, he groped for words. “I wanted to…I’ve heard…that is, I’ve heard that Vaughn intends to ask for yer hand.” The moment the words had left his lips, Finn could have kicked himself. Poorer words had never been chosen, that much was certain.
As expected, the glow in her eyes dimmed, and her arms rose to cross in front of her chest…as though to put a barrier between them, to keep him away. “I fail to see how ‘tis any of yer business.” Her voice was harsh as she spoke, and yet, he thought to detect a hint of pain as well.
“I’m sorry I blurted it out like that,” Finn apologised as best as he could while his nerves lay bare, “but I need to know if ye intend to marry him.”
Exhaling a quick breath, she frowned. “Why? Why do ye need to know? What is it to ye?”
“I just…” Gritting his teeth, Finn took a step closer, his gaze unable to veer from hers. “I simply need to know.”
Scoffing, she shook her head. “Why? If I didna know any better, I’d think ye’re jealous.”
Her words were like a stab to his heart, and Finn momentarily dropped his gaze. When his eyes found hers once more, the look on her face was one of sheer incredulity. Oh, dear god, she knew! Would she laugh at him now?
“It c-canna be,” she stammered, her warm brown eyes fixed on his. “Ye hate me. Ye always glare at me. We’re nothing to each other. We’ve barely spoken a word to each other since−” Her voice broke off, and she dropped her gaze as heat shot up her face, colouring her cheeks a crimson red.
Finn rejoiced, his heart hammering in his chest as he stepped closer, undeniably drawn to the woman with the dark brown eyes who had been haunting his dreams for years. “Since that morning,” he whispered, “although ye did not say much.”
Emma swallowed, lifting her chin a fraction, a hint of righteous indignation coming to her voice. “Neither did ye. Ye only stood and stared.”
“Aye.” Finn nodded, a small smile claiming his features. “Aye, I did. I admit ye threw me off balance.”
The red in her cheeks darkened. “I’m sorry. I…I shouldna have kissed ye. I…”
“’Twas not a true kiss,” Finn said, watching her closely.
Her gaze narrowed, and a frown drew down her brows. “What do ye mean? Of course, ‘twas a kiss. What else could it have been?”
Holding her gaze, he leaned closer. “A dare.”
Shock widened her eyes and dropped her jaw. “Ye kn-know?” she stammered. “How?”
Emma’s heart pounded in her ears like a stampede as she stared up at Finn, mortified by his rightful accusation. Ever since Maggie had spoken to her so honestly, Emma had heard her friend’s words echoing in her mind. I’ll never believe he’s been angry with ye for all these years because ye kissed him. That’s nonsense. Even if he hadn’t liked it, he wouldna have acted like that. He would’ve laughed it off and gone on his merry way.
But now she knew why he had been angry, why he had glared at her all these years. And yet, it seemed an awfully long time to hold a grudge. Could it be that he cared for her? That he had been offended to think that she had not cared? That it had only been a dare to her? A game?
Could the answer truly be that simple?
“I followed ye,” he answered her question, his eyes searching as though he, too, was looking for answers. “I followed ye, and I heard ye speaking to yer friends.”
“Oh.” If possible, Emma’s cheeks burnt even hotter. “I’m sorry I…” Then a thought struck, and her eyes narrowed with renewed purpose. “Why did ye follow me?” she demanded, taking a step toward him, her eyes searching his. “Why?”
He swallowed, and she could sense that he wanted nothing more but to drop his gaze. But he did not. Instead, he squared his shoulders and accepted her challenge, offering one of his own. “Why did ye kiss me if indeed ‘twas a kiss?”
Knowing his question to be a distraction, Emma still could not keep herself from taking the bait. “Of course, ‘twas. Our lips touched, did they not?”
All of a sudden, the memory of their kiss loomed between them. Emma could see it in the green blaze that lit up his eyes, and her heart jumped into her throat when Finn’s lips curled up into a wicked smile and his gaze dropped to her mouth for the barest of moments. “Have ye been kissed since that morning?”
Emma swallowed before a triumphant smile lit up her face. “Aha! So, ye admit that ‘twas a kiss!”
Finn chuckled, and Emma could not remember ever having seen him like this. Not since that morning. Not in the past seven years. At least not around her.
Also, she could not help but wonder at what point they had come to stand almost nose to nose with little between them except thin air. “Answer me,” Finn teased, his green eyes glowing with delight. “Has anyone kissed ye since?” His gaze darkened. “Has Vaughn?”
Squaring her shoulders, Emma looked him directly in the eyes. “Ye didn’t answer me, either. Why did ye follow−?”
“Emma!” he all but growled, shooting toward her so that she had to take an involuntary step backwards to avoid collision. His hands reached for her, and before she knew what was happening, she was wrapped in his arms, his mouth a hair’s breadth away from hers. “Has he kissed ye?”
Although her knees were shaking, Emma had to admit she liked the fierceness in him. “Why d’ye think ye can−?”
“Emma!”
“No!” she blurted out. “There. Happy now?”
An amused smile came to his face, and a chuckle rumbled deep in his throat. “Aye,” Finn whispered as his eyes held hers. “Aye, I’m happy.”
Locked in his embrace, Emma felt her breath come faster as his green gaze remained on hers, his arms keeping her steady, keeping her from sinking to the ground as her knees turned to water.
“Would ye object,” Finn began, a slight quiver in the way he drew in another breath, “if I were to kiss ye right here, right now?”
The air flew from Emma’s lungs as she tried to make sense of his words. Her head spun, and her heart raced, overwhelmed by the past few minutes she had so unexpectedly shared with Finn. They seemed like something out of a dream, and her mind had trouble believing that she was indeed awake. Still, he felt so real.
Never had she seen the green in his gaze more vibrant than in that moment as he held her gaze, waiting for her answer.
Trying to ignore the lump in her throat, Emma willed her chin to remain up. “Why would ye?” she demanded, willing a touch of haughtiness into her tone even though her body urged her to simply accept his offering.
After all, it had been seven years! Seven years full of dreams and hopes…and disappointment.
Finn chuckled, wickedness gleaming in his eyes. “So ye know what a true kiss feels like.”
Emma’s gaze narrowed. “I do know,” she insisted, annoyed with the condescension that rang in his voice.
“No, ye dunno.”
Her back straightened, and she pulled away, glaring up at him. “Aye, I d−”
“’Twas a dare,” Finn insisted as he lowered his face to hers, his arms pulling her back against him. “’Twas only a dare.”
Emma swallowed. Of course, she could tell him the truth. Tell him how much she had always cared for him. Tell him that the dare had only been a welcome excuse to kiss him. Tell him that she had feared for her heart if he were to reject her. Tell him it had been a mere way to save face. Tell him all that a
nd more.
Still, despite the past few moments which had been nothing short of heaven on earth, Emma could not. Her heart still feared that she had strayed into a dream, that she was in this very moment misunderstanding his intentions, that now he might be the one acting upon a dare. “How condescending of ye,” she hissed, steeling her voice, “to think ye know bet−”
The rest of her words were lost when his lips claimed hers, silencing her objections, her excuses, her protest.
Time stopped as they stood by the back door, his arms around her and his lips a gentle pressure on hers. Emma could hear her heart thundering in her ears and felt Finn’s beat against the palm of her hand as it rested on his chest. Stillness fell over them as it had seven years ago, freezing them in place, their thoughts and emotions overwhelmed by something they had not seen coming.
Emma sighed, counting the seconds his lips remained on hers, expecting him to pull back any moment now as she had seven years ago.
But, he did not.
Instead, his lips grew more daring, moving over hers with bold curiosity. Again, she sighed, and he walked her back against the wall, his hands brushing over her arms, her back, her shoulders before reaching for her face. She felt the tips of his fingers tracing the line of her jaw and down the column of her neck. Tingles surged across her skin, and her blood felt as though it had been set on fire.
When Finn finally did pull back, his breath came fast, and his gaze remained locked on hers. “D’ye concede?” he asked, a teasing grin curling up his lips as he held her in his arms.
Rolling her eyes, Emma chuckled. “Aye, I concede. Ye were right. Now, kiss me again.” Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt as she pulled him back toward her, enjoying the laughter that spilled from his mouth.
“As my lady desires,” he whispered against her lips, a teasing tone in his voice. Always had he seemed so serious, rather glum and melancholy−at least whenever they’d crossed paths in the past seven years−that Emma knew not what to make of this passionate man who held her in his arms.
