Page 72 of Wild Scottish Fortune

“I want whatever color doesn’t make you cry.”

“Fin, I’m sorry. I just had a moment is all. It happens.”

“Why can’t you tell me? I want to support you, Orla.” At that, Orla pulled back, a world of emotions in her eyes. I waited as she considered, wanting nothing more than to lean forward and kiss her sadness away.

“I always wanted my own bedroom when I was a little girl. It just hit me wrong, I guess.” Her eyes shifted away from mine and I understood that I wasn’t getting the whole truth. And maybe I never would. Maybe that was something that I would need to accept about Orla and how she protected herself. It was likely easier for her to keep hurtful memories buried than it was to expose them to scrutiny. I couldn’t say I blamed her for that either.

“That makes sense. Was it because you wanted space?”

“Aye. Just somewhere private to call my own. Nothing was my own. I didn’t even have a journal or a box of toys or…anything really. Not even a bag that my cousins wouldn’t go through. It’s hard to live with zero space or privacy.”

“What happened to your family?”

Orla’s eyes drifted away for a moment and then returned to mine.

“Not much to tell. Never knew my dad. Mum died of addiction when I was young. Her half-sister took me in, but just barely. There was nothing for her to give. Which is why I had no real space to call my own. When you finally get it, well, you treasure it, you ken?”

“Aye.” I thought back to my own upbringing, where wealth had provided me with more space than I needed, to the point of loneliness at times. Different sides of the coin, but some of the same emotions, I supposed. “I wish I could take the hurt away for you, Orla. But all I can do is say that I’m always here to listen and I want you to know that I would give you the world if I could. Anything you want, and it’s yours. Name it.”

Orla lifted her chin, studying me.

“You’re serious?”

“Of course, I am. You mean…och…” I stopped short. Now wasn’t the time to tell this woman that I’d fallen head over heels for her. It had only taken one look, hadn’t it? A part of me had known, even when I’d ignored it, that my life would never be the same after Orla. It was imperative that I move slowly with her because I knew she frightened easily at any semblance of closeness. Her walls were high, and I’d seen them from a mile away. But damn it, I wanted her. All of her. I wanted to be free to give her gifts and plan the future together. To wake up next to her and talk about our problems together. A partnership. In heart and home. I’d never craved this with someone before, not in the way I did with Orla, and it killed me to creep along as slowly as we did, each day nudging her closer to trusting me.

“I mean … what?” Orla asked, her eyebrows winging up her forehead.

“You mean everything to me, Orla.” My voice rasped and I brushed a thumb softly across her cheek, holding her gaze, wishing she could feel the emotions that threatened to strangle me. Never had I had this overwhelming need to protect and care for someone before, yet at the same time knowing she didn’t need me at all. It was humbling, really, to know the things that Orla likely had gone through and still persevered. While every girlfriend before her had always wanted fancy gifts from me, Orla refused anything I tried to give her—aside from a gift for Goldie, that is. No, she didn’t need me at all, but I hoped she’d want me at her side.

“You mean that, don’t you?” Orla bit her lower lip, and my stomach clenched as need rose.

“I do. I promised myself I’d give you the time you need to grow comfortable with me. But I’m there, Orla. I’m already there. You have me.”

Her eyes widened and her breath quickened.

“You’re quite serious …”

“Aye.” I wanted to bury myself in her, both physically and metaphorically, and never come out. What had become absolutely certain over the last few weeks was that this woman was my sanctuary, my home, and I would do anything to keep her happy. It was scary, really, how months ago I thought I was fine, content in my life. And then Orla blew in and nothing had been the same since. Now I couldn’t imagine a future without her in it.

Orla raised a hand, tapping it lightly against her chest.

“I have all these…feelings. And I don’t quite know where to put them.”

My breath caught. It was the closest she’d come to admitting she cared for me, and I didn’t want to scare her away. No sudden movements.

“Do you want to tell me about these emotions?”

“I’m not sure how to,” Orla admitted, still tapping on her chest.

“Would you like to show me instead?”

Orla tilted her head, considering my words.

“Can I? Would you let me?” Her gaze sharpened, her pupils dilating slightly as she looked at me, and I realized she was talking about her desire for me. Instantly, I hardened at the mere thought of her touch.

“You can show me whatever you want, Orla.” I chose my words carefully, not wanting to presume anything.

“And I can be in control?” Orla stressed the words, clearly needing confirmation from me.

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