“Jesus Christ,” he huffed. “Men are arseholes sometimes.”
“Now I know different.” I grinned. “I have knowledge. Knowledge is key. When I do settle down, I won’t be settling for a man who doesn’t return favors.”
I expected Lachlan to laugh, but he just stared pensively off into the distance.
At the sudden thick silence, I searched for a different subject. “I think Mac wants me to stay.”
He looked at me sharply. “He asked?”
“Inferred.”
“What did you say?”
“I have to go back to Boston at some point, fix things with my mom and Regan. And then I want to travel for my business.”
“How did Mac take that?”
“He told me I should. Doesn’t want me to have any regrets. But I’ll visit, of course.” I ignored the ache in my chest.
He studied me and then murmured, “So, when you say settle down with a man, you don’t actually mean it.”
“Of course, I do. I want that eventually,” I said. “I’m not you, Lachlan. Casual sex won’t satisfy me forever. I want true intimacy, someone to look after and be looked after by, a husband. And I want kids. I just want to see a bit of the world first.”
The breeze blew back strands of hair that had come loose from my ponytail, tickling my nose. I tucked the strands behind my ear and waited for him to respond.
He didn’t.
He just reached for another pastry and acted as if the river was the most fascinating stream of water he’d ever seen.
* * *
Lachlan’s surprise destination was Kylesku (pronounced Kyleskew) Bridge. And he’d been right about the beauty of this place. The bridge swept around in a curve over two connected lochs on the northwestern coast of the Highlands.
Since no cars were behind us, Lachlan slowed as we crossed so I could take it all in. Hills that seemed to touch the clouds, others so tall they disappeared into them, reminding me of our altitude.
Water dotted here and there with little islands. Rugged rocks peeked through shrubs and grass and trees. Olives, emeralds, sage, burnt umbers, smoke, and ambers shone bright against clouds with mauve bellies. The loch was a still sheet of water reflecting the sky, unsure if it wanted to be blue or purple or gray.
“Lachlan,” I whispered. I had no words. I desperately wanted to get my camera out.
“I thought you’d like it here.” He turned left down a little slope into an empty parking lot. The man had barely stopped the car and I was out, hurrying to open the back passenger door so I could set up the drone. A few minutes later, I looked over my shoulder and saw him standing at the edge of the lot, snapping photos on his phone.
Smiling to myself, I returned to setting up the drone. Once I was ready to go, I walked over to stand at his side. “Dabbling in a little photography yourself?”
He smirked at me. “Sending some snaps to Lucy. She’s always talked about coming here. Thought the pictures might give her incentive.”
A little niggle of … something … something I hadn’t experienced before when it came to Lucy and Lachlan took me aback.
It bothered me.
Because it felt an awful lot like jealousy.
And I adored Lucy. I didn’t want to be jealous or insecure about her, and I didn’t know why I was all of a sudden when I hadn’t been before.
I frowned, trying to figure it out.
“We’re just friends.”
I was shocked that he’d assumed the right reason for my silence. “I know that.” I said, unable to meet his eyes. “Good friends. You care about her.”
“I do.”
“Do you make friends of all the women you’ve slept with?”
“No. And not like Lucy. I think it’s because we’re alike. We both just wanted a distraction, an outlet. But nothing more. She’s like you. She didn’t lie about understanding the rules.”
Oh, I understood the rules. He was right about that. And that’s when it hit me, what bothered me about him and Lucy.
I was just another Lucy to him.
More than just a casual fuck. But in the end … like Lucy, I’d be cast aside. Just friends.
Lucy was fine with that.
I …
Swallowing hard, I set the drone down on the ground. “Let’s do this.”
It turned out Lachlan could be a very patient man. He pulled the blanket out on the lot and sat there, vacillating between silence while I worked and chatting amiably whenever I took the FPV goggles off that allowed me to see what the camera could see.
Cars came and went with tourists jumping out to take snaps of the bridge and the scenery as Lachlan waited with me for sunset.
“Are you sure you’re not bored?” I’d asked a few times.
He’d waved the question away. “I like watching you work. It’s relaxing.”
As the sky began to change color, the brilliant golds, scarlets, and amber hues of the setting sun was quickly dwarfed by dark throbbing purples as heavy clouds that seemed within touching distance drew in overhead.
“Shit.” Lachlan jumped to his feet. “Get your camera down.”
Hurrying to do as he instructed, I’d just gotten the drone back and disassembled when the rain lashed down in violent jets that pounded and splashed off the ground. Our shouts of shock and surprise were barely audible over the plaintive sobbing of the sky.
In seconds we were soaked to the skin. Lachlan helped get my gear in the back seat and then we turned to each other.
Water streamed in my eyes as I stared up at him, shocked by the abrupt and capricious Scottish weather. It reminded me a little of the man before me, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
Lachlan grinned and hauled open the passenger door. I climbed in and he slammed it shut in my wake. Teeth chattering with the sudden, drenching cold, I watched the blur of him through the water bouncing off the windshield as he rounded the hood and yanked open the driver’s side to climb
