“Allow me,” he murmurs.
I blink up at him in shock, my mouth slowly parting. Amusement dances in his eyes before he steps around me. The movement has brought him close enough that his familiar scent wraps around me. Storm clouds and cedar fill my nose and chase away my lingering doubts as I breathe him in.
In a trance, I slowly drag my golden brown hair to one side and drape it over my shoulder, out of the way, so that Lachlan can settle the necklace around my throat. The medallion doesn’t look heavy, but as soon as it’s clasped around my neck, a small weight presses upon me, like a cloak has been wrapped around me. Grasping my shoulders in his large hands, I feel a light, comforting squeeze before he leans down to press a chaste kiss to the side of my head.
Lachlan whispers into my ear, “Welcome home, Key.”
I delicately stroke the medallion resting on my chest and turn my head to gaze up at him. Our cheeks nearly touch at the closeness, and I lean back, pressing against him.
Something flickers in Lachlan’s eyes, but I’m drawn to his lips, the curiosity of what they would feel like against mine burning through me. When I search his eyes again for even a hint that he’s thinking the same thing, I’m a bit saddened not to find my feelings wholly reflected in them. Slowly, I withdraw, bringing the walls that had kept me safe every time we had to leave another town firmly back into place. I’m a fool. He’s my oldest friend, my only friend, and I shouldn’t put us in situations like this, no matter how much I want to.
“Well, if ye dinna need me here, I better get back to the crew,” he mutters quickly. “But I’ll see ye at dinner on Sunday, right?”
My smile is hesitant, and my cheeks burn with embarrassment, but I nod. “Of course, it’s your turn to cook.”
He smiles broadly at that, his eyes warming and the corners of them crinkling again. As soon as he’s out the front door, I replay the incident and how completely stupid it was over and over. Lachlan didn’t lean into the almost kiss, but he didn’t pull away either.Could it be possible for him to feel the same?
We didn’t stay in close contact, but there was always a shared connection when we were together. No matter the distance or the time we spent apart, we always found ourselves right back where we had left off. It has always been so easy being together. I don’t know how I feel about jeopardizing a friendship like that.
But the attraction.
I long to have a partner like what my parents found in each other. To be loved, cherished, and understood. It wouldn’t hurt for him to be tall, dark-haired, and gorgeous. I roll my eyes at the thought.
When I finally track Gran and Torin down in the kitchen, they’re putting the kettle on to refill their cups.
Gran glances up when she hears me approaching and smiles broadly at me. “Hello, dearie.”
I’m surprised by her mood change since I’ve been gone, but I don’t let on. A large part of me is relieved she’s not calling me Bryn.
“Hello, Lachlan stopped by,” I respond to her and Torin, who’s studying me with a perplexed expression.
I toy with the medallion around my neck, and Gran’s face turns white as a ghost’s. She lurches out of her chair, her teacup sloshing tea as it smacks against the granite countertop.
“Where did you get that?” Each word is pronounced sharplyas she points at my necklace. I flinch at her commanding tone. It’s a voice I’ve never heard from her before.
“Uhhh … Lachlan just gave it to me as a welcome-home present. He bought it from an antique shop,” I answer, shifting between my feet. The tension in the room is thick; Gran’s features haven’t softened, and her eyes bore into me like I have more to tell.
“Heirloom,” she whispers.
“Gran … is everything alright?”
Her mouth parts as if she’s going to reply, but she quickly shuts it.
“Did you say heirloom? Do you know where this came from?” I press, pulling the necklace higher so she can see it more clearly. She takes a small step back, and like a wave receding, the small amount of clarity in her eyes vanishes.
Her disgruntled expression slips away, leaving behind only a subdued, bland smile. “My dear,” she trills and pats my cheek as she walks past me and out of the kitchen.
Torin and I are left staring at each other for a moment.
“What was that?” I ask, trying to grapple with what transpired.
Torin shakes his head before grumbling and leaving the kitchen as well. The moment is set aside as I track down Gran. Then it’s a constant battle to keep her settled for the rest of the day.
2
MINDFULNESS
The recurring nightmare that has haunted me for the last 5 months is still lingering when I struggle to get out of bed the next morning. It always plays out exactly how it had in real life: a police cruiser turning onto the gravel lane of the cabin we had rented for winter. Two officers approach the front door, their heavy boots thudding loudly against the front porch, announcing their arrival long before they knock on the door.
