Page 65 of Wild Scottish Fortune

“Och…” Orla paused, considering her words. Lines appeared in her forehead as she gave my question more serious thought, and she threw the ball for a delighted Harris without even looking. “No, I don’t suppose I do at that. For me? Family wasn’t everything. But maybe because of that I have a glamorized version of how a family should operate so I hate to see when other family units break down. Maybe because mine was broken from the beginning. It’s the idea of it all, this perfect vision of a happy home and family that I kind of hold on to, I guess?”

“Then you’re advocating more for an ideal than a reality, right?”

Orla leaned back, looking a little hurt, and I rushed to explain. “No, I’m not slapping you back for that. I’m just seeking to understand. Because I had the perfect family life, or so I thought, until it crumbled under me. And I can keep wishing it would return to that, or that people were different from what they are, but how long do you keep chasing a reality that only lives in your head?”

“Then this thing with your mum has been going on a while then?”

“Aye, since even before my dad died. I kept giving her blind loyalty, bending over backward to keep her in the lifestyle she’s accustomed to, and for what? She doesn’t care about me, Orla. She cares about herself and what her peers will think. At what point do I step away and live my life for myself? I don’t owe her anything. I’m the child, she’s the parent. My duty is to myself and those that I love, not to a woman who’s selfish beyond words.”

“I’m sorry, Fin. I guess I was just seeing it from the night of the gala.”

“The night of the gala revealed to me that my mother has moved past being difficult and into cruelty. The consequences for that will belosing her son.”

“Fin.” Orla’s face twisted. “Do you really mean that? You’re cutting her off completely?”

“I have to. For my own sake. And for her, as well. She’s a healthy woman in her prime and certainly not stupid. It’s time for her to figure things out on her own. I can’t abide cruelty, even more so when it is against someone that I…” I caught myself before I said love. “…someone that I care about.”

“On the scale of things, it wasn’t the worst that I’ve dealt with before, Fin. Kids can be quite mean.” Orla had left her hands in mine, and I squeezed them, not wanting to break contact with her. “Particularly when you look different or are wearing the wrong sized shoes and all that.”

“It was also likely because you’re impossibly beautiful.”

Orla’s skin flushed, and I wanted to see her like that, her red hair spread out across my pillow, her skin pinkening as I brought her pleasure. Desire pooled low, my body responding, and I was glad a picnic table was over my lap, or I’d look like a creep getting turned on during a serious conversation. But, God, I wanted her. In all ways. In my life. In my house. In my bed.

“So you keep saying…” Orla brought her hands to her face, a shy smile peeking out from behind them. “I don’t know if I see what you see.”

“How could you not?” I pulled her hands from her face, leaning forward, and brushed a soft kiss against her mouth. “I find you to be utterly bewitching.”

At that, Orla stiffened, an odd look coming into her eyes, and her gaze darted away for a moment. What was she thinking about when I said these things? Did I make her nervous or did she just not believe me?

“I have a surprise for you after lunch,” I said, switching gears to bring her to lighter topics.

“A surprise? After all this?” Orla swept a hand out to the food and to where Harris waited for his new ball toss.

“Aye, lassie. It’s a good one too. But only if you finish your lunch.”

“Tell me what it is,” Orla demanded, picking up a piece of bread to start building her sandwich.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I did.”

“Give me a hint.”

“No.”

“Och, come on then. That’s no fun.” Orla pouted.

“Not good with surprises, are you?” I laughed.

“Hate them,” Orla confirmed, adding some deli chicken to her sandwich.

“Too bad. You’ll have to wait.”

“Not even a tiny clue?”

“Nope.”

“I don’t like you very much right now, Fin.”

“That’s just the hunger talking. You’ll be better after a sandwich.” I laughed as she glared at me and Harris dropped the ball, coming to sit at the table, giving us the best puppy dog eyes to ever beg in the history of puppy dog eyes.

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