Page 28 of Scotch & Dreams

Chapter 17

To Sleep or Not To Sleep

VioletsteppedoutofLachlan's ensuite. She hadn't really thought it through when she'd grabbed her sleep shirt from the B&B. It barely covered her behind, but she wasn't about to sleep in her jeans. What did it matter anyway? She doubted Lachlan would care one way or the other. If she'd hoped there was something more happening between them, she'd clearly misread the situation.Saint Lachlan. Perhaps it was an accurate moniker. She looked at the king-size bed with its crisp white bedding, still ruffled from where she’d slept earlier. Did he intend to join her? She turned, hearing the gentle knock on the door.

"Can I come in?"

Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly slid under the covers. This time, she was very aware of being in his bed and the feel of his sheets on her bare legs. She bit her lip. "You can come in," she called back, trying to calm her sudden nerves.

As Lachlan stood outside his own bedroom door, any reassurances he'd placated himself with that this was nothing more than helping a friend in need all but evaporated. He turned the handle, poking his head around the door. Violet smiled at him from under his covers.Christ,what a sight. He smiled back at her, trying very hard to think like a friend—something he'd never had to convince himself to do before. Lachlan had always found it very easy to be friends with women. He'd never had to worry about rogue hard-ons in his adult life. This was new territory, but he was determined to be the friend she needed and remain a gentleman even if inside he was feeling more like a caged lion.

"Ah, good, ye look comfy. Well, I'm just going to do my ablutions." Inwardly, he was berating himself as he strode to the ensuite, not daring to look at her again. Why did he say that like an utter twat when he could have just said brushing his teeth? It's not like he was purifying himself, for the love of Mary. Maybe he should be.

When he came back into the bedroom, Sally was sprawled on his side of the bed. Normally, he'd coax her into her dog bed that lay nearby, but tonight, he decided he'd leave her where she was, feeling like she could help keep an eye on Violet. The lass obviously liked his dog as he'd seen her petting Sally and sneaking her bits of chicken at the dining table. It wouldn't hurt to let Sally sleep on the bed this one time. Lachlan noted the steady movement of Violet's breathing under the duvet. He was relieved she seemed to be doing well. He strode over to the chair in the corner of his bedroom. Fortunately, it was comfy, so hopefully, he wouldn't have the worst sleep. He set his phone to vibrate in ninety minutes so he could check on her and then went to turn off the bedside lamp on the nightstand near her side of the bed.

"You aren't thinking to sleep in that chair, are you?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin. "I thought ye were asleep."

"Not yet," she said, looking up at him. "Are you worried I might accost you in the night?"

Lachlan chuckled at the absurdity of the statement. "Should I be?"

She eyed him with a sly smile playing on her bow lips. It was ironic that a very real part of him would love nothing more than for this woman to have her way with him.

"I'll be good as gold," she cooed, then added more seriously, "I get it, Lachlan. You are helping me out. I didn't mean to make things awkward earlier. I'm going to blame it on a head injury and too much whisky."

Lachlan winced. He clearly wouldn't make a very good nursemaid, plying his patient with whisky. He should assure her that she didn't do anything wrong, but he didn't say anything.

"Anyway, I don't want you to feel you can't sleep in your own bed. I promise to stay on my side." She looked up at him hopefully.

He wondered how anyone could ever say no to the lass. "Right, okay then." He strode back around the other side of the bed and coaxed Sally to her dog bed. "I confess, I wasnae looking forward to sleeping in the chair all night." He slid into the bed and felt far too aware of the lass lying beside him, despite the good pillow width of distance he kept between them.

She rolled to face him, hugging the pillow under her head and eyeing him curiously.

“I thought ye were tired,” he said, glancing at her.

She smiled coyly. “Second wind.”

"I see." He closed his eyes and bent his arm up behind his head. He was trying very hard to focus on anything other than the woman beside whom he could feel her eyes boring into him. "What's on yer mind, V?" he asked, sensing she wasn't going to just go to sleep.

"I don't know. I guess, I'm just curious."

"Curious about what?" His pulse clicked up a notch, thinking she might want to know why he hadn't kissed her back.

"What you do when you're not making whisky?"

A silence stretched between them. He should tell her about Anna.

"Or are you a workaholic? Or worse yet, an alcoholic?" She sounded slightly horrified. "Sorry," she quickly added.

Lachlan cracked an eye and raised a brow.

She laughed.

God, that throaty laugh got him every time. He'd never tire of hearing it. "If I had a pound for every sorry."

"I know, I know. I can't help it. Sorry!" The last one she drew out. "So not an alcoholic then?" she hedged.

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