Page 136 of Full Mountie

“Beth told me about Sunday afternoon.” He gives me a hard look. “That was a dick move.”

“Yeah.”

“She’s fine, by the way. But I think you made her cry again, and I told you not to do that.”

Fuck. “Is she pissed at me?”

“What do you think?”

There are a lot of ways I can justify what I did. She invited me over, I made sure it was good for her. But the truth is, she deserved better. “She ought to be.”

“She should cane your ass. But that doesn’t seem to be in her nature. She’s been extraordinarily understanding, in fact. She seems to be under the impression you have a deep-seated fear of rejection.”

I jerk as if he’d just poked me with a live wire.

He grimaces. “So I need to apologize for my part in that.” He steps away from the wall and moves towards me, slow and steady. “I pushed you away ten years ago. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I wanted you, too. In every way. I loved you, then, and I love you now. I never stopped loving you, and I’m so fucking sorry I hid that from you.”

It’s everything I’ve secretly wanted to hear. My mouth runs dry. If I let my guard down here, if I let him in, I’m never going to be able to let him go. “It took a long time to get over you.”

“For me, too. Get over you. I’m not sure I ever did.”

“I love Beth, too.”

He smiles. “I know. Come on. She’s waiting for us.”

My heart stutters in my chest. “Where?”

“Home.”

49

Beth

I’mthree trays of cookies into stress baking when Lachlan texts that he’s bringing Hugh back to his place.

Lachlan: Got him to listen. Told him I love him. Bringing him home.

The relief that washes over me is strong enough to buckle my knees. Heart thumping, I lean against the granite countertop and take a deep breath.

When Lachlan told me he was going to see Hugh, I packed enough clothes to stay here for a week. If it worked, I wouldn’t want to be away from them. And if it didn’t, I knew we’d need to cling to each other to deal.

Lachlan’s key in the front door jump starts my anxiety again. Before I can coordinate moving my feet, Hugh’s in the kitchen doorway, then across the room.

I sink into his embrace. His lips brush my cheek, my temple, then press into my hair as I squeeze him tight.

I don’t even realize I’m crying until he’s easing me up onto the counter and wiping my face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

I shake my head. “We didn’t notice you pulling away.”

“I’ve learned to hide my feelings pretty well.” He grimaces, and I touch his face. He’s so tough. Too tough.

“Do you want a cookie?” I ask, my voice catching.

He nods roughly and I pull him close again, wrapping my arms around his neck this time.

“I made peanut butter chocolate chip, and regular chocolate chip, and I’ve got a batch of oatmeal raisin if you want to pretend to be healthy.”

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