Page 16 of Scotch & Dreams

She nodded, still not understanding what had happened, only that Lachlan was a bubbling cauldron when he'd told her to go to the car and when he got in moments later.

Lachlan looked down at the floor, hands rested on his waist, but his broad shoulders looked tense, and she wished she could massage away his tension.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ve got time for a long story if you feel up to telling it.”

That slightly crooked smile touched his lips, nearly knocking her back down into his bedsheets.

“Right. How about a wee bit of dinner first?”

“Oh my God, what time is it?” She scanned the room for a clock.

He chuckled. “Dinner time, lass. Come on, I’ve made us some supper. You must be ravenous by now. That doctor will no’ think much of me if ye starve to death.”

Smiling, Violet threw off the soft, cozy duvet, immediately feeling the cool of the room, but she willed herself to get up off the bed. She pulled her sweater a little tighter, crossed her arms around herself, and padded her way to where Lachlan stood by the door.

“Och, lass, ye look as cold as a bug in a snowstorm."

She giggled lightly at his turn of phrase as he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close. Violet had to hold back a groan. It felt so good to snuggle into his warm broad chest. She could get used to his brawny arms around her.Mmm,fresh yummy spiciness,she thought to herself, breathing in his scent. He rubbed his hands on her back to warm her. She unfolded her arms and put them around his waist. She became aware as her breasts pressed against his firm torso, and it sparked a different kind of hunger in her. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, to her disappointment, he released her.

“Come on, Violet. Dinner awaits.” Lachlan hadn’t thought anything of it when he pulled her in close to warm her, but the feel of her in his arms reminded him he needed to be on his best behaviour. He was much too aware of her every curve and her light vanilla scent. He reminded himself that she was in his home as his guest and as his friend. Nothing more. It didn’t help that she’d slept in his bed, though. Despite having a guest bedroom, he still hadn't furnished it. Where else was he supposed to put her to sleep?

When he agreed to stay with Violet, he hadn’t exactly thought through the sleeping arrangements. And even now, he wasn’t sure what he was intending for the night. He had to keep an eye on her, so it would make sense to stay in the same room at the very least. Shite. Perhaps he could make up a bed on the floor for himself.

“Tell me it’s not reheated mystery pudding?” Violet said as she followed Lachlan out of the bedroom.

“Fine idea, lass,” he teased.

“Your home is beautiful."

He could hear the awe in her voice, and he felt a sense of pride. He loved this house. "Thank ye. It was my grandparents, but after my grandda passed, my nan moved in with my parents. She was older and frail. This big old house was too much for her."

"That makes sense.”

"Aye, she was going to put it on the market, but I couldn't imagine letting this beautiful place go. So I bought it from her.”

"I bet she was glad to keep it in the family. It's so beautiful." Lachlan nodded as he looked back at Violet, who was running a hand over the rugged stone wall of the stairwell as if it were treasure.

The curved wall that hugged one side of the stairwell was all made of various shades of stone. In front of them stood a wall of windows with views of the Scottish countryside, and above them was a vaulted ceiling that had heavy wood-hewn beams running the length of it. Lachlan loved the character of this manor house. Most people appreciated the beauty of this home, but for some reason, it warmed Lachlan how taken Violet seemed to be.

“My grandda and his da did a lot of the woodwork ye see. I had some things modernized a few years back, but I'd never touch the woodwork."

"Why would you? It gives it so much character.”

Lachlan smiled, glad Violet could see its beauty, too. He could imagine his grandda now, proudly telling her how he'd hand-planed the cedar wood beams himself, readying them. He felt nostalgic thinking about his grandparents. His nan had passed away only a few months after his grandda. His mam insisted that she died of a broken heart. Lachlan couldn't say one way or the other, but he did know that his grandparents had loved each other fiercely, passionately.

He snuck a glance at Violet, who was now looking up at his grandda's beams like she was seeing the stars for the first time. And it struck him—this woman was like his grandparents’ love. Fierce and passionate. And fearless—moving to the other side of the world to start a business, not knowing a soul. He'd never met a woman like Violet.

Chapter 11

Stepping Into His World

Thetablehadeightcarved chairs around it, but with only two place settings—one across from the other. It was rustic wood with a farmhouse feel to it. The simple black iron chandelier that hung above the table was dimly lit. Two well-used tapered candles burned. Wax drippings caked the sides of the small glass holders.

Lachlan brought two plates, with dinner already laid out, to the table. Violet breathed in the delicious scent. Her mouth watered—she was starving. The plate had a bundle of deep green-coloured beans, sliced steamed beets, buttered baby potatoes and sliced seasoned chicken breast.

“Please,” Lachlan gestured politely for her to begin. Violet sipped at the water in front of her and he suddenly jumped up. “I’m so sorry, would ye like a glass of wine? I completely forgot to offer.”

She found it amusing and sweet that he was berating himself over wine. “Not right now, thanks though,” she smiled, putting a mouthwatering forkful of food into her mouth. “Mmm,” she cooed. “How do you get your chicken so tender?”

---