Mad About Plaid (12 page)

Blinking back the sting of tears, she drew in a deep breath and opened the door. He was leaning against the door frame, looking like some million dollar billboard model. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

"It's fine." She managed a half smile. "You called it like you saw it. And you happen to be right, so..."

Ian didn't respond and silence filled the space between them. At least he'd let the subject drop, thank goodness.

"I have some things to take care of with the farm," he said. "I should be done by lunch, late lunch."

"How about we meet for dinner? Then you won't have to hurry. I know you have a lot of stuff to do too." She smiled. It was better than crying. "I think I can amuse myself for one day."

Ian studied her for a long moment, uncertain. "You sure?"

"Positive."

He grabbed her face in both hands and really looked at her. Lucy fought hard to keep the tears at bay. Why did she have to go and fall in love? Why? Why did she always make a disaster out of everything? Ian pressed his lips against hers, first light and then harder as though committing her lips to memory.

When he released her, she put her hand on his chest and pushed him away from the door, feeling broken inside, but smiling anyway. "Get out of here before I pull you in here with me."

His hand stopped the door from shutting. "I can make time."

Lucy laughed and shut the door.

Ian walked out of Lucy's room knowing to the very marrow of his bones that he loved her. It didn't matter how much, or little, time they'd spent together. All he knew was that he didn't want to face the future without her. It was hard to imagine, waking up every morning, seeing to the business of the guest house, and not having Lucy be part of it.

A major part, if he had anything to say about it.

He'd upset her. He hadn't meant to and it frustrated him. He wanted the best for her, wanted her to be happy, and he knew—just as he knew he loved her—that being behind the lens of a camera was what she loved. She was afraid at failing, and worse failing at something she loved so much.

It was way easier to fail at a job you didn't care for than one you hoped with all your heart was a success. He knew that first hand. He'd put everything on the line to open the castle and estate to guests. And, yeah, it was scary as hell, the idea of failure, but it was worth trying. Worth the risk. But he'd come to that decision in his own time, and he knew he had to let Lucy do the same.

Now he just had to get her to stay. He was pretty sure his feelings weren't one-sided, pretty sure whatever was happening between them was mutual.

He hoped.

Shit. What if it wasn't?

After a quick shower, where Ian forced himself not to panic, he cleaned the kitchen from last night's dinner so Fran wouldn't have to, then it was off to the barn to take care of the animals, then over to the cattle shed, followed by tackling the risk assessment he needed to complete for the guest house.

He breezed through the day, excited, anxious, randomly unfocused, and, yeah, still panicked.

What the hell did he know about love? It was like being thrust into the cockpit of a 747 and told to fly the thing home; he had no idea what to do. How it would end. And if he thought too much about it, he broke into a cold sweat.

By the time Ian finished with his day, a little before dinner time, he had managed to settle his mind and his heart.

"There's my lad," Fran said as he entered the kitchen. "Long day, no?"

Ian grunted in the affirmative and reached into the refrigerator for a bottled water.

"Enjoy your dinner last night?" she asked as she scrubbed vegetables in the sink.

Ian stilled. "It was . . . fine."

"Mmm." Usually when Fran mmm'd like that, she knew more than she let on.

"Trout was excellent. You would have been proud." He opened the cap and took a long drink.

"I'm always proud of you, Ian," she said, stopping her work to fix him with a meaningful stare. "I've known you since you were a wee bairn, you and your brothers. You three find your share of mischief, but never have I been disappointed in you."

He waited for more, but none came. "And you are now."

"Aye. What were you thinking, Ian, running that poor lass off like that? What'd you do to her?"

Instantly, it felt like his heart dropped into his stomach, and a cold dread swept in. "Fran. What do you mean, run off? Lucy's not gone." No, Lucy couldn't be gone. She was supposed to meet him for dinner. He was going to tell her how he felt and everything was going to be good. More than good. Great. Fucking fantastic.

Bloody hell.

Ian raced from the room and took the stairs two at a time. "Lucy!" Her door was open. The room was clean. Her things gone. The bed was made, and on it were photographs she must have had printed during the day.

Dazed and out of breath, Ian sat on the edge of the bed. They were candids. Pictures of Fran and Hamish. Dev and Hildie. Dimon playing in the loch. He flipped through them, his heart pounding and hurting like hell. She left. Just . . . left.

The last picture he picked up was one of her. The one he'd taken at the castle ruins.

No. He wasn't accepting this. Not by a long shot.

Ian hurried to the ground floor and met Hamish as the old man strolled through the main hall. "Lost something have ye?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Not funny, Hamish. Do you know when she left?"

"Oh, I'd say about forty minutes ago. Willna get far, though. That rental . . . issue with the petrol, ye see."

Ian knew immediately that Hamish had done something to her car. Lucy wouldn't get far. He grabbed the old man in a bear hug, touched by what he'd done and so relieved he was shaking inside. "Thank you."

Hamish untangled himself and puffed out his chest, trying to appear unaffected. "While yer standing here actin' like a lass, the other one's gettin' away."

"Crap. You're right," Ian muttered and hurried from the house.

Chapter 12

She was out of gas, stuck on the shoulder of a single-track road deep in the Scottish countryside.

Again.

Unbelievable. She already knew the gas gauge wasn't working, but Hamish had assured her he filled the tank.

Once Lucy had made the heartbreaking decision to leave—why prolong the inevitable?—she wanted to get away as quickly as possible, and this was the last thing she needed. She was already on the verge of an emotional breakdown, having just left the most amazing man she'd ever met.

He hadn't wanted her to stay. He'd made it clear that there was an "end" to their involvement. And she didn't have the guts or the fortitude to meet him for dinner and act like nothing was wrong.

"Un-freaking-believable," she muttered, getting out of the car.

It was another cloudy day, another beautiful landscape.

After taking stock, she made some decisions. Hell if she was walking back. Onward and upward, that was going to be her new motto. She'd had a lot to think about today while Ian was off running the estate, and knew it was time to take some bigger risks in life. She'd taken small ones. Coming to Scotland. Kissing Ian for the first time. Allowing herself to connect with someone.

But now it was time to get serious.

As she grabbed her backpack and began her walk down the road, Lucy realized that this was the first time in her life that she'd done the walking away.

It hurt like hell.

When it started drizzling, she just shook her head and kept moving. Leaving the same way she'd come in. Figures. At least she wasn't dressed like Willy Wonka this time. As the rain came down harder, she hunched her shoulders, trying not to re-live her arrival. Seeing the house for the first time. Getting lost. Encountering Ian in the library...

She didn't hear the car until it eased up beside her.

The window rolled down and a hand appeared, holding out a familiar cap with a red pompom on top.

Lucy stopped. The Rover stopped. She wiped the rain from her face and, with a steady breath, met Ian's gaze. "You forgot something," he said.

She didn't take the cap. She didn't know what to do. All she knew was that her nerves were going nuts, and her heart was breaking all over again.

"Get in, Lucy," he said.

"No thanks." She glanced up at the sky. "I'm getting used to walking in the Scottish weather."

He frowned. She started walking.

The engine cut off. The door opened and shut. Now there was nothing separating them. Ian fell in step beside her. "You left without saying goodbye."

"Didn't see the point in prolonging things."

"Well, I did," he said frustrated, stepping in front of her to make her stop. "I saw a lot of points, a lot of potential."

"You saw an end. That's what you said, remember?" Confusion clouded his features. His hair was wet and it made her angry how sexy he looked in the rain. "Look, we barely know each other."

He gave her a flat look. "That's a bloody lie and you know it. We know each other, Lucy." She started moving again, but he blocked her path. "The first time I saw you—"

She snorted. The first time he saw her she was out cold in a plaid nightmare.

"Okay," he dragged a hand through his hair. "I thought you were nuts. But later. In the library… Even then I knew something had changed. You changed everything, Lucy."

He was scowling down at her, serious, raw. And she didn't know what to do or say.

"I'm in love with you, Lucy. Beyond reason. Beyond anything that makes a damn bit of sense." Nothing imploring in his tone, nothing sweet. Just facts. Just plain words that seared her soul and stunned the socks right off of her.

She gazed up at him in disbelief, his words not quite settling in—panic, however, had settled in nicely. This was one of those moments she'd just been thinking about. Taking the bigger risks. And this was one risk she desperately wanted to take. She did love him. As crazy as it was, she hadn't a doubt about that.

He was staring down at her, rain dripping off the ends of his hair and nose, with so much worry and hope that her heart melted. Everything, all the fear, it just melted and ran away with the rain.

"Well," she said with a deep exhale. "I'm no chicken, so…"

He swept her up into a hug before she could continue. And then he was setting her down and his lips pressed against hers, all wet and sexy and hungry.

Oh, yeah, she could definitely get used to this.

* * *

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THE MACLARENS OF BALMORIE

MAD ABOUT PLAID
(Lucy & Ian, Book 1)
A SCOT LIKE YOU
 (Devin & Kate, Book 2)
THE TROUBLE WITH KILTS
 (Riley & James, Book 3)
ANY SCOT OF MINE
 (Harper & Ross, Book 4)

A SCOT LIKE YOU
(Devin & Kate, Book 2)
Available Now!
(And read the excerpt after this page)

With Balmorie Guest House up and running, Devin MacLaren can finally focus on restoring the holiday cottages on the estate. Recently returned from war, all he wants is the peace and quiet only the Highlands can give him. With Kate's arrival, that peace goes right out the window. And as much as he'd like to avoid her, he needs her animal expertise to help his retired military dog, Hildie.

Despite their failed first (and second) meeting, Kate can't help but be attracted to the solitary Scot; there's so much heat lurking behind those solemn eyes that she can't seem to stay away. There's more to Devin MacLaren than meets the eye. And while Hildie might need her help, it's Devin who needs her heart.

THE TROUBLE WITH KILTS
(James & Riley, Book 3)
Available Now!

Riley Brooks' life is in a tailspin. With divorce papers shoved into her suitcase, she takes off for Balmorie Estate to see her cousin Lucy wed Ian MacLaren. Love is in the air, but she wants none of it. Neither does Jamie MacLaren. The Scottish farmer is pissed off and bitter, and wants to be left alone. But when Riley's ex-husband shows up at the castle to reopen old wounds, misery loves company, and Riley and Jamie join forces with a little Scottish whisky to ease their hurts, and maybe open their hearts….