Page 18 of Scotch & Dreams

She quickly discovered that Lachlan had a twin. Identical—or nearly. His brother didn't seem to possess that slightly crooked grin that made her knees increasingly weaker every time it spread across his handsome face. Aside from a twin brother, there appeared to be a younger brother and sister, as well as an older sister. One photo of the five siblings was particularly adorable—Lachlan looked about seven or eight. They stood in front of a Christmas tree, each holding a toy, except for the eldest sister, who was holding a white Scottie dog with a red bow. Every face was lit with a matching ear-to-ear grin—Lachlan’s, with its telltale crook.

Another image caught her attention—Lachlan and his older sister, dressed in riding gear, standing in front of two stunning horses. Violet adored horses. Seeing that he had experience with them made her heart skip a beat. He really seemed like the perfect man. Her knight in shining armour, she thought whimsically, and then chuckled to herself as she took a sip of scotch. “Woah there, Violet,” she chided.

Chapter 12

Dirty Dishes and Dirty Thoughts

Lachlanwashedthedishesand tidied up after their dinner. All the while, his mind replayed the events of the day. He'd been so distracted that he hadn't noticed she'd fallen asleep in the car until they arrived at his home. When he drove into his garage, he considered leaving Violet in the car since she slept so peacefully, but it would defeat the purpose of him watching over her.

Decision made, he carefully opened the passenger side door so as not to disturb her. At six-foot-four, crouching down to maneuver a lass from his car was tricky and made even worse by how soundly she slept. Her slender limbs were dead weight. It was a struggle, but he managed to scoop her out. As he stood, he adjusted her in his arms, and she stirred and looked directly at him with sleepy bedroom eyes, smiled, and promptly fell right back into a deep sleep. To his chagrin, that innocent fleeting look made his cock stir.

“Bloody hell,” he cursed under his breath. He wondered why in God’s name his dick suddenly had the mind of a horny teenager. It’s not that he wasn’t a virile man, but it was almost comical how many times his cock had stood at attention in the past twenty-four hours. It was also mildly disturbing. He had no business reacting this way to Violet Munro, and perhaps even more troubling was the lack of this reaction to his girlfriend—during sex, yes, but outside of it, no. Lachlan wasn't the kind of guy to have spontaneous erections. He couldn't recall a time as an adult when his dick had gone so bloody rogue. Christ, this was not good. Not good at all.

Wiping down the counter, his thoughts replayed to when they’d arrived at the house. He tried to focus on the task at hand, carrying Violet into his home, and without knowing where else to lay her, he brought her up to his room. He lay her on the bed, and as he looked down at her, the oddest feeling passed through him. It was like his muscles relaxed, and he had almost a serene sensation wash over him.

Lachlan was accustomed to a baseline of anxiety thrumming through him. It was something he'd accepted as part of being an adult with responsibilities, but as he stood watching Violet with her long sun-kissed blond hair on his pillow, the familiar buzz of anxiety and tension in his muscles was notably and inexplicably absent.

He had known he should make an exit and allow her to rest, but before he turned to leave, his eyes dropped to her booted feet tucked up on his crisp white bedding. Lachlan took after his mother in the cleaning department, and at times, he was perhaps a little bit OCD. He liked things tidy and organized, but he didn't know what had him more distracted. The tan ankle boots on his bed—outdoor footwear on his clean sheets—or the long slender legs curled above them. His eyes had almost bore through those boots, as if he could've distracted his thoughts from the keen awareness that she layin his bed.

He tore his gaze away, turned to walk out the door, and then suddenly doubled back, crouching down to carefully unzip one tan ankle boot at a time. Gently, he slid them from her feet so as not to disturb her. Although, he’d almost bet a herd of elephants could trample through the room and the lass would sleep through it.

Lachlan wasn’t a fan of feet. Most feet were pretty gross to him with their gangly toes and weird smells. He knew damn well his feet aversion stemmed from when he was younger and his brothers and even his youngest sister, Orlagh, would tease him mercilessly, shoving their grubby toes on his bare arms or even his face if they were lounging watching a movie, which they did often as kids. His dad hated feet, too. Just one of those weird quirks, he supposed. As he’d gotten older, he didn’t hate them like he did as a kid. He’d even grown accustomed to when Anna’s feet would touch his legs in bed. Not that he liked it—he'd never like it— but he'd accepted it. He still drew the line at foot massages, though. No way, no how, would he ever be the giver or receiver.Rank.

Before he slid off Violet’s boots, as odd as it seemed, he braced himself for ugly feet to accost his senses, despite knowing it wouldn’t likely be the case. In the back of his mind, he almost hoped for Violet to have reprehensible, hideous feet so that maybe he could stop bloody lusting after the woman. He needed something to help him lock out the prickles of desire that kept assailing him.

As he carefully slid off one boot and then the other, he almost groaned. Smooth soft-looking skin, delicate ankle bones, perfectly trimmed nails with a soft pink polish, and a natural beauty he didn’t think feet could possess. Of course, the woman was the definition of graceful, almost swan-like beauty. And when the boots came off, her toes stretched out then curled in softly as if pleased to be free. Right there and then, it occurred to him that if he were forced to suck on toes, he’d choose those toes right there. Lachlan swallowed and stood, running a hand over his smooth jaw.Where in the name of fucking Mary had that thought come from?

Then he pulled up the blanket that lay on the end of the bed, covering the lass, and made a prompt exit. Knowing he’d need to check on her regularly, he went downstairs and grabbed a wee whisky and his laptop before heading back up the stairs. He knew he could've used some space from the lass, but the entire reason she was with him was for him to keep an eye on her—space was not really an option. He'd sat in one of the lounge chairs in front of the bay window niche in the hall near his bedroom, checking on her more than necessary.

After putting the last dish away and hanging the hand towel to dry, Lachlan picked up his whisky glass and rolled its contents. His thoughts still on the woman who'd literally fallen into his world. He couldn’t keep the vision of how Violet looked sippinghiswhisky from his thoughts.

Dear God.The way she closed her eyes to savor the dram he’d given her. She’d looked almost aroused.Had she been aroused? Then he chided himself for such a ridiculous thought. But when she'd opened her eyes and licked her full, lovely lips, his damn dick had tugged again, and he'd had to force his thoughts to something benign. And heaven help him, the firstbenignthought that popped into his head was Anna. And a new shame had rolled over him.

Lachlan set down his glass again and rubbed his palms over his eyes, trying to ease the strain that sat behind them. Anna was his girlfriend, and he wouldnotdo anything to disrespect her. It was not like him to be so distracted—by a lass, no less. Lachlan always kept relationships with women platonic. He assured himself he was nothing like his playboy brother Drew. There was a reason Drew called him Saint Lachlan, and the truth was that Lachlan wasn’t bothered by the nickname. Even Alex had taken to calling him by it. He wasn’t a saint, but he was a man of integrity and morals. And he was certain that was why a part of him wanted to get as far away as possible from Violet Munro. If she was safely away from him, his integrity would not come into question. Another part of him knew damn well that he couldn’t abandon the lass—he wouldn’t. It was like the universe was having a wee laugh at his expense.

And then there was Anna. They had an okay relationship. They didn't argue, and for the most part, it was easygoing. Lachlan had grown accustomed to her. Despite a short courtship, he supposed moving in together was the natural next step. At least, that was what Anna kept telling him. His mam had said something along the same lines as well. It was not that he thought it was too soon per se, but he just wasn't sure it was what he wanted.

Lachlan gripped the counter, leaning over the sink with his head dropping. He lolled it from side to side, attempting to ease the tension that clenched his neck and shoulders. Try as he might, every time he thought of Anna moving in with him, something nagged at him about it. He didn't want things to change. He was content with the way things were. Or was he?

He raked a hand through his hair. Were the reactions he was having to Violet more about Anna? As if Violet was one last fling before he committed to Anna?Christ. Probably not the best way to think about it. But maybe it was like having cold feet before a wedding. Not that anyone had talked about marriage. But that was the next step after moving in together. The thought sent a shudder through him. Hedefinitelywasn't ready for marriage.But what if Violet was his wife?He growled, crossing his arms over his chest, alarmed at the direction of his thoughts. Obviously, he was attracted to her, butfor the love of Mary,he needed to get a grip, or this could be disastrous.

He wouldneverhave a fling, nor would he give in to any of those lusty feelings that were stumbling haphazardly in his head. It was absurd, though, how difficult it was to control his thoughts and reactions to Violet. His mind incessantly jumped into fantasy, and his body practically thrummed any time he touched the lass. It wasn’t in his nature to get so bloody randy. That had always been a Drew trait, and if this morning's encounter with his younger brother was any indication, it still was.

Drew. That was another heavy thought. God, he'd missed him. He would have hoped time had changed things, but clearly, it had not. Drew still hated him. How he wished things were different. They used to be so close. He missed the brother he once knew. Lachlan picked up his whisky and sipped, savoring its familiar burn.

Violet probably thought he'd gotten lost. He should go be with her. The thought both excited him and had him trepidatious. Before heading to the lounge, he chugged back an ice-cold glass of water, hoping to curb his fiery thoughts. Violet was an attractive and intriguing lass, but his only objective was to be her friend and help her. “This is no’ a difficult task,” Lachlan muttered to himself, adjusting his overly sensitive cock in his pants, silently begging it to behave.

Chapter 13

Sgt. Pepper

Lachlandetouredtohiscellar before heading into the lounge. Violet seemed to appreciate Cailleach whisky. The least he could do was be a good host. He brought up a bottle of one of his favourites for her to taste. She seemed to have a discerning pallet. He’d be curious to get her take on one of Cailleach’s finest drams. Lachlan felt lighter and more in control as he strode down the hall.

Coming through the double doors of the lounge, he did not anticipate the sight that greeted him. Violet had found his old record player. Music filled the room, and there she was, cardigan discarded, dancing and singing, unabashed and carefree. In his entire thirty years, Lachlan could say with certainty that he’d never been spellbound—until now. She sang along to “Jolene” by Dolly Parton, belting out the chorus like a weekend festival goer, high on life. And God help him, he couldn’t stop his eyes from dropping to the thin white blouse that glided and tugged over her perfectly peaked breasts.

A loud pop from wood burning in the fireplace, swiftly brought Lachlan back to his senses. He drew in a breath, reminding himself of his resolve. Violet glanced up, noticing him in the doorway. Her singing trailed off, and she stopped dancing. Her cheeks turned pink as she took in his presence.

“I’m sorry. I totally got carried away,” she said, chin tilted down shyly in complete juxtaposition to the bold, carefree woman he'd just witnessed.

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