Page 111 of Some Like It Scot
Would I regret it once I sobered up in the light of day?
Without a doubt.
But just for this moment, this amazingly marvelous moment, I embraced the feeling of being protected and cherished and safe...
Of coming home.
“You realize I can never see you again, right?” The words rasped from me as we pulled apart again and I rested my head back against the wall. “Because I don’t go around haphazardly kissing Scotsmen or butlers or anyone else.”
One of those dark brows of his took an upswing as he brought his palms to rest at my waist. “You think I do?”
I searched those eyes as they searched mine, and emotions began to gather in my throat at the answer I saw there.
A kiss like that wasn’t commonplace for him either.
“Probably not the ‘butlers’ part.”
His lips quirked, and he moved to breach the distance between our lips again only to stop at the slamming of a door.
“All done!” Lachlan called.
Graeme stepped back, releasing his hold around my waist, but not my emotions.
Oh no.
To use the local vernacular, my heart was in a fankle. Double-knotted. No return. Heartbreaking fankle.
And the realization didn’t stop me from wanting to kiss Graeme MacKerrow one more time.
Chapter 19
Graeme
I was caught.
Likely to my demise, with her track record, but caught nonetheless.
Even before the kiss, when I’d held her in my arms in the rain, some part of my heart recognized a missing piece her presence filled. And I wanted that rightness all the time. Her.
Her past, her misadventures, her kiss, and her future.
All of it. Like I’d never wanted anyone else in my life.
I couldn’t explain why I’d been drawn to her from the start. Was it the need to help her? The way she lived without pretense and slipped right into my life and family so easily? But now, knowing her tender heart better, her courage and teasing ways—well, I’d gone as mental as the folks in Craighill, I s’pose. Something in the broken pieces of her heart matched mine, and we made a whole.
I don’t know how it worked. I had no scientific or psychological explanation.
But it did. Or could.
Perhaps I was a different person than I’d been two years ago with Allison—more mature. More aware of seizing life as it came. More inclined to trust a higher hand to help with the weak spots, instead of allowing my pride to rule my head.
But watching her at my parents’ house with my family, seeing how she fit in a way Allison never had, solidified everything.
I couldn’t let her go.
Lachlan’s call as he’d burst into my workshop the day before and recounted finding Katie on the ledge squeezed in my chest. I knew what it was to lose someone. Too well, I knew it. And perhaps I’d come across as irritated at first, just because the pounding in my chest at how I might find her didn’t cease until I held her safely in my arms again. But finding Katie safe and whole, and being able to bring her home healed something in me.
Shehelped heal something in me.
