They had the rest of their lives together, and she couldn’t wait to get started. She planned to make sure he spent the rest of his life happy and contented, and vowed he’d find time each and every day for relaxation, no matter what the future held for them.
With a grunt, Alistair shifted on the cot, trying to find a more comfortable position. She pushed herself upright. “I’m sorry. Let me move off—”
His arm tightened around her. “Ye’ll do nae such thing. I need ye here with me, lass, can ye no’ tell?”
He’d neglected his own pleasure to give it all to her, and she could feel his erection digging into her hip. Smiling, she was reaching for it when his words stopped her.
“I am thinking we’ll be needing a different bed.”
Tsking, Lara pushed herself up on one elbow so she could smile down at him. “Mam and I had a little chat earlier. Now that ‘tis nae secret she’s been sharing the laird’s bed, they’re going to make things more permanent.”
Alistair’s brows shot up. “He’s going to marry her?”
“Och, nay.” Lara shook her head, amused at the idea. “But she’s going to move into his chambers. They decided they’ll no’ be sneaking around anymore, which is why yer da claimed her so publicly tonight.” She lowered her voice in an approximation of the laird’s. “I’m too auld to be creeping through drafty corridors at night!”
Chuckling, Alistair pulled her down for a quick kiss. “Ye’re adorable, love, but dinnae do an impression of my father when we’re in bed together, aright?”
“Noted,” she agreed with a grin. “But my point is…with Mam moving in with yer father, and Brohn already settled into the barracks, I thought…” She shrugged, suddenly awkward, and dropped her gaze to his chin. “If ye wanted, we could share my chamber. The bed is much bigger, and I ken ye like it.”
It wasn’t until he placed a finger under her chin and lifted, that she was able to look him in the eyes again. He was smiling.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Lara. Kiergan and I shared a chamber when we were younger, and although he claims he never brings women to that bed, I have nae need to bring my wife there.”
A feeling of contentment shot through her at the word wife. After tomorrow, they’d belong to each other, in the eyes of God and the clan.
Finally.
She smiled softly. “I love ye, Alistair.”
“Not as much as I love ye, Lara.”
Her grin turned wicked as she pushed herself upright, then reached for his manhood. When her fingers wrapped around its hard length, he sucked in a breath. “I doubt that. I have more experience.”
“More experience…at what?” he managed.
She was already leaning down, but paused to peek up at him. “At loving ye.” She’d loved him for years, after all.
“What are ye doing?” His question ended in a moan when she licked the already-seeping tip of his cock.
“I’m returning the favor.” He’d brought her such pleasure when he’d kissed her there, so she intended to do the same. “Lie still and let me explore,” she commanded.
She knew the exact moment he gave up control and relaxed against the pillows. His hands uncurled from their fists, and he exhaled. “Aye, love,” he whispered, closing his eyes and giving himself up to her.
Smiling, she bent to her task, knowing no matter what happened with the lairdship, she would remind him how to always have fun.
Epilogue
This seemed like a fine time to get drunk, but Kiergan was failing at that too.
Just one of many things.
His entire life, he’d always been the jokester, the one who was good for only one thing: bringing women pleasure. It seemed as though anything else he tried, he failed at. Or mayhap not actually failed…but with five brothers, there was always someone who was better than him at everything.
Even getting drunk.
He peered down at the flagon in his hand and realized ‘twas empty. With a sigh, he tossed it down on the table in front of him and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He leaned back in the chair and watched the revelers dancing in the center of the great hall.
There was Rocque, holding Merewyn around the waist as he spun her. Her red hair flowed behind her as she tilted her head back and laughed happily. Duncan and Skye were less exuberant, but ‘twas clear they had eyes only for one another.
Malcolm wasn’t dancing, but he had his new son Liam perched atop his shoulders as he chatted with Father Ambrose and Aunt Agatha. Beside him, his wife Evelinde patted the younger bairn’s bottom as she swayed. And across the way, Finn stood with his arms around Fiona’s waist, his chin propped on her shoulder as they watched the dancing.
Kiergan blew out a breath and scrubbed a hand across his face. And Alistair was even now in his solar, making love to his soon-to-be wife, if Kiergan didn’t miss his guess.
He’d known for some time that his friend Lara carried a torch for Alistair—he’d learned it from Nessa, although he’d never betray that confidence. It had been hard, but he’d subtly tried to push the two of them together.
And when subtle didn’t work, he’d taken matters into his own hands and lied. He’d been the one to suggest the birthday celebration to Da, and the older man had been enthusiastic about it. The lie had come when Kiergan had claimed Da wanted Alistair and Lara to work together—‘twas the only way he could think of to force the two of them into the same space for any amount of time.
It had worked.
Slowly, a grin grew on Kiergan’s face. Not the charming smile he was known for, but something more personal.
Well, I’ll be fooked. Apparently I am good at something. Matchmaking.
Nay, ‘twasnae fair. He was good at three things now:
Matchmaking.
Lovemaking.
And the clan’s correspondence.
When Alistair had handed that responsibility over to him, no one had been
