It was a contemporary structure, built with larch cladding and lots of glass.
He and the kids’ mum, Francine, built it together while she was pregnant with Lewis. Thane also designed Lachlan’s home—the one he never used, situated on the land next door.
“I wanted a cuddle.” Eilidh pouted at her father, somehow growing heavier on Lachlan. He realized why when Thane tried to lift her off, and she refused to go without a fight.
“Eilidh,” Thane admonished, sweeping her up before she could protest. “Uncle Lachlan’s not well. Leave him alone.”
She scowled over her father’s shoulder but gave Lachlan a cute wave. “Feel better, Lach Lach.”
He winked at her, and he saw her smile before she disappeared out the door with her father.
“You okay?” Lewis asked.
Always so serious, that one.
Like his father and eldest uncle.
Brodan and Arran had missed out on the serious gene.
While Brodan easily played the cocky, charming, laid-back Scotsman, Lachlan shrugged on the persona like a mask. He presented himself to the world in the way he wished he were.
But he wasn’t that man.
Though he’d felt like him for real when he was with Robyn. She freed something in him.
“Uncle Lachlan?”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” he replied, hoping there was a kernel of truth in it.
Thane strode back into the room. “Lewis, breakfast.”
His son left without argument.
“Make sure Eilidh doesn’t try to pour her own cereal,” he called after him.
“Will do,” Lewis called back.
Then Lachlan was the focus of his brother’s attention.
Vague memories of the night before came back, shifting at the pounding bass in his skull.
“You owe me a bottle of Clynelish.”
Lachlan smirked unhappily. “I gathered as much.” Groaning, he sat up, swinging his legs off the bed only to let his head fall into his hands. “Fuck, I feel like I might owe you three bottles.”
“Nah, just the one.”
The bed depressed at his side, and he glanced out of the corner of his eye to look at Thane who sat beside him. “Did I get drunk in front of the kids?”
“No,” his brother assured him. “They were already in bed.”
They were silent as bits and pieces of their conversation last night returned to him.
As if reading his mind, Thane offered, “I meant what I said, Lachlan.”
He met Thane’s gaze.
His brother gave him a bolstering nod. “If I had the choice to go back and start a life with Fran knowing I’d lose her in the end, I’d do it anyway. Not just because she gave me the kids but because she helped make me who I am today. And my life was infinitely better for having her in it.” Thane placed a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder. “A decade of happiness is better than a lifetime of emptiness.”
Emotion choked him.
His brother’s strength was humbling.
Nodding, he patted Thane’s hand and tried to get a grip on the thickness in his throat.
“Does that nod mean you’re going to pull your head out of your arse and go to Robyn?”
Lachlan’s pulse leapt at the thought. “Aye.” He nodded. “Let’s just hope she’ll take me back.”
“Well.” Thane stood, grinning at him. “You’ll have a better chance if you go to her not smelling like a distillery.”
Lachlan grimaced. “Right. Food, shower, brush my teeth first.”
And then he’d go to her.
Because Robyn was wrong.
She was the one worth fighting his fears for, and he refused to be another person in her life who didn’t put her first.
* * *
After enduring breakfast with his family (his head was killing him and as much as he loved his niece, she was going through a phase of shout-talking), Lachlan decided to cross the land between their homes and use his place for once.
Letting himself into the large home, he pictured Robyn there and wished he’d brought her to see it and made love to her in the large master that overlooked the inlet. While there was a large, open-plan living space from the front to the back of the house—the kitchen and lounging area set against wall-to-wall bifold doors that opened out onto a deck that looked out over the Ardnoch Firth—there were also smaller rooms behind the kitchen. There was a small viewing room with a giant picture window and window seat where you could sit, lean against the glass, and look out over the water.
Robyn would love it.
Hurrying upstairs to the master that sat above the kitchen with its own overhanging deck, he moved with urgency. Shower, dress, get to Robyn.
Two days was far too long as it was for her to think he didn’t love her the way she loved him.
He shook his head in wonder as he stepped into the shower.
Robyn loved him.
How did he get so goddamn lucky?
It seemed implausible, but he wasn’t going to question his good fortune.
In the walk-in closet, he chose clothes without his usual care for appearance.
In fact, he was so focused on Robyn, the sudden explosion of pain across the back of his head and the lights sparking in his vision came out of nowhere. Confusion was the last feeling to absorb him as he stepped into his bedroom, the floor the last thing he saw, coming toward him at speed, before everything went dark.
35
Robyn
While extremely cozy, Mac’s cottage seemed to close in on me. In the sitting room, I stared around dazedly with hands on my hips. Outside, vigilant in a car, were two members of the security team. Guarding me. I flinched thinking how much paying for this had to be draining Lachlan’s coffers.
But Mac wouldn’t have felt free to leave me to go to work on the estate if his men weren’t outside. And I’d promised I’d stay put today, a promise I now regretted.
I was not a person who lounged around the house.
Deciding I could work on uploading new shots to my website,
