Page 60 of Gift-Wrapped in a Kilt

"She doesn't blame you."

"Well, she should."

Jamie took a dainty bite of her sandwich and chewed it up before speaking again, though her gaze never wavered from him. "Have you spoken to Calli about this?"

"Sort of."

"I'm fluent in Gavin-speak," Jamie said in a lightly teasing tone. "I know that means you haven't told Calli how you feel."

"I'm a guy, what do you expect?" He focused on the sandwich balanced on his thigh, unable to meet her gaze and see the sympathy and concern in her eyes. He nabbed the empty plastic bag and crumpled it in his hand. "I'd rather not talk about my sister anymore."

"Aye, you'd rather not." She set down her sandwich and wriggled her butt to get closer to him. When she leaned in, waves of her hair coasted over his cheek. "We need to talk about all of it. Calli, your parents, your wife, my brothers. Everything."

Gavin bit off a big mouthful of his sandwich, gnawing on it as an excuse not to get into this discussion. Ham and cheese with dill pickle and spicy mayonnaise was his favorite, but today, it tasted like cardboard. She was right. Ignoring the problems had only made things worse. He had to deal with all of it head-on.

He swallowed the bite of food, but it hit his stomach like a cold stone.

"Okay," he said, returning the sandwich to his thigh. "You're right. We need to talk about it, but I've never been good at, you know, that opening-up-and-sharing crap."

"Maybe you'd have an easier time of it if you stopped calling it 'that opening-up-and-sharing crap.' If you really want our relationship to work, you have to tell me everything."

"I get that, I do." He scrutinized the grass between his feet. His gut twisted, his stomach boiled with acid despite the cold lump inside it. "Calli tried to get me to talk about this stuff years ago, right after our parents died. I couldn't do it then, and I'm not sure I can do it today."

"You're not talking to your sister. This is me, the woman you say you love." She laid her hand over his where it rested on his thigh, where his fingers curled into his flesh. "If Rory could tell Emery about what happened with his first three wives, things none of the rest of us know, then you can tell me about this."

He bristled at the mention of Rory, and a snarky comment rose in his throat. Gavin bit it back. Much as he hated it every time Jamie used her brothers as examples of perfect boyfriend behavior, snapping at her about it wouldn't help anything.

Pulling in a deep breath, he tried to fortify himself for the ordeal ahead.

He focused on their hands, his beneath hers, warmed by her soft skin. Could she understand if he told her? She'd never lost anyone. He was glad she didn't have to go through that, but it made this harder to explain. Sharing his weakness, admitting to being a messed-up jerk who abandoned his little sister… He didn't want Jamie to see him that way.

Gavin shook off her hands. "Isn't that enough for today?"

Jamie snapped bolt upright. "Enough? You haven't told me anything."

"Told you how I bailed on my sister. You think that was easy to say?"

Her shoulders relaxed, her mouth too, but she still seemed unhappy. "No, of course not. And I appreciate you sharing that with me, I do. But you said yourself it's not the root of what's going on with you. Please tell me the rest."

Gavin averted his gaze to the loch, his throat suddenly tight.

"Please," Jamie said. "It's important, Gavin, important for us."

She was right, and he knew it.

His gut hurt like it had razor wire twisted around it. His mouth had gone dry, but his hands were clammy.

Jamie splayed a palm on his cheek, her fingertips tickling his ear.

He couldn't look at her. Couldn't move. Couldn't hear anything except the pounding of his pulse in his ears.

She spread her other palm across the opposite cheek and exerted the lightest pressure necessary to encourage him to turn his face toward her. When their eyes met, she gazed at him with a love and compassion that tore at his heart.

"Please tell me," she said, her voice soft and sweet.

He pulled in a shaky breath. "After our parents died, I abandoned Calli. She needed me, and I ran away."

"I'm sure you're exaggerating."

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