Page 73 of The Scot's Perfect Match
They beached the boat on the rocky shore of the loch just as the sun began to sink behind the hills, spilling gold and rose over the water. Ava stepped out carefully, her slippers damp from the shallows, and shook out her skirts as Gavan secured the craft with a rope on a wooden piling.
It should have been cold, the Highland breeze biting at her damp hems and slippers, but she felt only warmth. Perhaps it was from the lingering heat of his arm around her waist, or the way he kept glancing at her as though he couldn’t help himself. Every moment felt like a tease, the tension building between them, her desire to kiss him… to touch him, growing stronger.
She shivered, not from the cold, but from the way his gaze lingered on her, deliberate and full of desire. Gentlemen had given her varying degrees of regard over the years, and aye, some of them had been lust, but with Gavan it was wholly different. His regard mesmerized her, not as Lady Ava in her finery, but as Ava, damp-hemmed and breathless from laughter.
Gavan took her hand and led her toward the blanket they’d spread out before going for the row, his thigh brushing hers as they settled beside each other. Even through layers of fabric, the contact sent warmth skittering through her. She wanted to lean into him, to rest her head against his shoulder and pretend that the rest of the world didn’t exist. For him to kiss her, lie her back, and cover her body with his.
Ava drew her knees in, resting her chin atop them as she stared at the mirrored sky in the loch, contemplating how she could convince him to kiss her.
“I used to come here when I needed to think,” Gavan said after a while, his voice low.
She glanced at him, studying his handsome profile, his strong jaw. “Think about what?”
“Everything. The estate, my parents, what kind of man I wanted to be.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “And what kind of man I was becoming.”
She tilted her head, happy to hear him speak so openly. The trust he had in her was immeasurable, and she wanted to give him the same in return. In the past few weeks, she’d seen a different side of Gavan, and it made her admire him all the more. “And do those two men match?”
He huffed out a quiet laugh. “I dinna know. Some days I think I’ve fallen short. Others… I think I’ve managed to become exactly who I need to be.”
She studied him in the fading light. “I think ye’ve become the man who saves people from tipping into lochs,” she said lightly, trying to cut the sudden heaviness.
His lips curved, but his eyes stayed serious. “I’d save ye from worse than that.”
The words settled between them, heavy and true.
Ava looked away first, focusing on the ripples spreading out from where a frog had hopped into the water. “Ye make everything sound so simple,” she said softly. “Like it’s easy to choose who ye want to be.”
“Is it no’?”
She smiled faintly. “No’ for me. I’ve spent so long arranging other people’s lives, I dinna know if I ever stopped to think about my own. About what I wanted. Really wanted.”
Gavan didn’t answer right away. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his hands loosely clasped. “And now?”
She swallowed. “Now I think… I want this. Moments like this. With ye.”
The whole world stilled as he caught her eye, locking his gaze on hers. “We will have that,” he said simply. "We are having that."
The weight of his words made her breath catch. “'Tis true, we are.”
“Aye.” His hand covered hers where it rested on the blanket, his thumb brushing over her knuckles, slow and deliberate.
Her heart stuttered. He said it with such calm certainty, but there was a question buried there too, an unspoken plea for her to believe him.
She didn’t pull her hand away. “Ye make it sound like ye’ve planned this all out,” she said, her voice softer than she intended.
“No’ planned,” he said, leaning closer, “but wanted. For longer than I care to admit, longer than I admitted to myself.”
The words stole her breath. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
He reached up, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face, letting his fingers linger just long enough to make her whole body go taut. “Know this, Ava…” He paused taking a steadying breath, and her name on his tongue made her chest ache.
“I mean to spend the rest of my days making sure ye never have to doubt what ye mean to me.”
Suddenly overcome, her throat tightened as tears threatened. She hated crying, hated showing that kind of vulnerability, but in that moment, with the sun melting into the hills and his hand warm against hers, she couldn’t help it.
She blinked the tears away and managed a trembling smile. “Ye do realize,” she said, her voice quivering just slightly, “that if I ever tell Moira ye said something so romantic, she’ll never let ye live it down.”
He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Then we’ll keep it between us.”
