My smile falters, and silence stretches between us. My grief overwhelms my ability to answer. Lachlan glances up from where he’s slicing a lemon at my lingering silence.
“Key, I am so sorry, I dinna even think …” he trails off as he comes around to stand beside me, the knife and lemons forgotten on the counter.
“No, it’s okay, it just, um, it sneaks up on me sometimes, ya know?” I respond while tightly hugging myself to keep from breaking apart.
“I ken it does,” he says as he wraps his strong arms around me.
He squeezes me tightly, holding all of my pieces together. His familiar cedar and rain scent envelops me. I lay my head against his chest and focus on the rhythm of his steady heartbeat against my ear. Lachlan rests his chin atop my head, rubbing a hand up and down my spine.
He murmurs, “When I lost my parents, granted, I was veryyoung, but that loss did stay with me. It does get easier, but it’s always there, lingering.”
His confession is heartfelt. I appreciate the genuine sympathy he’s showing me. His parents were not a topic we ever discussed growing up, but his surliness was always apparent as he struggled with his sorrow.
“I feel a bit guilty now,” I mumble against his chest.
“Why is that?” he asks.
I tilt my head back to gaze into his eyes. “I was lucky enough to have twenty-one years with my parents, and you didn’t even get a fraction of that with yours.”
His smile is sad, but he says, “Ah, the age-old question: Is it better to ha’ loved and lost than never to ha’ loved at all?” He lightly kisses the top of my head before slowly pulling away, taking his warmth with him.
Circling back to the island, he picks up the other half of the lemon and the knife before resuming his slicing.
I joke to lighten the heaviness clouding the room. “Handsome contractor and philosopher, eh?”
He smiles, not taking his eyes off the lemons before him.
I blush into my wine glass while wrinkling my nose in embarrassment. But then I notice the slight reddening of his ears. Perhaps my attempt at flirting wasn’t too terrible after all. With each sip of wine, I feel like I’m finally stepping back into my body. My confidence begins simmering right below the surface of my skin, and a spark of light blooms in my chest.
“How’s business?” I ask.
“Business is booming; it’s hard to imagine I only just started this company.” His eyes stay on the cutting board before him, but he’s a million miles away.
“Do you miss traveling?” I ask him, assuming the distance in his eyes is because he misses his wanderer’s lifestyle that he traded in for his busy day job.
He chuckles. “Am I that obvious?”
I grin. “Of course, I never would’ve pictured you in one place. You were always jealous of our nomadic life.”
He nods his head in agreement. While I always wanted to stay here at the Hall with him, he would always beg to join us in the States.
Lachlan begins washing the arugula in the sink. “Ye always did want to stay still.”
His eyes fall upon me, and I feel the weight of his stare on my skin.
“I wouldn’t say I wanted to stay still; I just wanted a normal life. With friends and relationships. I wanted to belong to somewhere or someone,” I murmur.
His eyes meet mine, and my skin flushes at his attention. I want to shove the words back into my mouth.
Lachlan shakes his head and turns off the sink. “Ye led a life of adventure and wanted a mundane one instead?” His voice is light and teasing, but something about his tone when he says “mundane” makes me sit up straighter.
“I didn’t say ‘mundane’, just average.” I roll my eyes.
Lachlan shakes the arugula, sending drops of water flying across the kitchen. I squeal when splattered with several, and he laughs at my shocked expression.
“You did that on purpose!”
His eyes dance, taking in the droplets splattering my face. “See, there’s no fun in normal, Key.”
