Page 4 of Scotch & Dreams

Anna: I’m going to need pampering after this hen weekend. These women are crazy, and I’ll need to detox France from my system when I'm back. How people think French is a beautiful language, I’ll never know. It’s horrible. Can’t wait to get back to the UK.

Anna: Biggg kiss, good night xxx

Anna: Ps. hope you are thinking about that thing we talked about … xxx

Reading Anna’s texts made Lachlan feel even more exhausted. He definitely was not thinking aboutthe thing. He had no desire to think about it. That morning, Lachlan had driven Anna to the train station—it felt like a lifetime ago now. She was headed to Marseille in France for her best friend’s hen do. She’d kissed him in the car before getting out and hinted again about her moving in with him. He’d smiled at her at the time, but he couldn’t deny the uneasiness he’d felt.

As soon as he drove away from the train station, a lightness seeped into his mood. He felt free and was content not questioning it. He had been pleased at the prospect of a few days to himself, but he hadn’t realized just how good it would feel. All day, he felt energized like the hit of a coffee on a sunny Saturday morning. He had purposely avoided analyzing why and instead soaked in how good he felt. But now, as he sat here reading Anna’s texts, it forced him back to a reality he wasn’t sure he wanted anymore.

Lachlan rubbed his temples. God, it had been a crazy evening, and he felt exhausted. Now was not the time to start contemplating things with Anna.

Turning off the nightstand light, Lachlan lay back in bed with a groan, feeling his body sink into the mattress. He pulled in a deep breath and released it. His thoughts settled back on Violet Munro.

It bothered him how confused she had been. He couldn’t help but think the worst. What if she’d injured her brain? What if her memory didn’t return? He rolled over, trying to clear his worrisome thoughts. Fretting about it was not going to help her. Lachlan eventually drifted off to sleep, but the night was restless, with disjointed dreams, tossing, and turning. Dreams of the past intermingled with snippets of the evening. It felt like he’d barely slept, and then it was morning.

Opening his eyes, Lachlan’s first thought was of the lass. He rubbed his scratchy eyes with the palms of his hands and sighed. He was not usually a worrier, nor someone who got anxious about things. This was all very new for him and rather uncomfortable. In reflection, he realized the events of the evening before were intense and bore similarities with his sister’s riding accident. Perhaps his anxious reaction was a normal one, but it still bothered him. He couldn’t seem to stop stewing.

He glanced at his phone and felt relief that there were no more messages from Anna. That was something heshouldbe thinking about—his relationship with Anna. She’d more than hinted about taking it to the next level, but Lachlan struggled to think about Anna moving into his home. He’d known Anna, or at least known of her, for many years. The MacDonalds were an influential, wealthy family, and they'd met each other at various events over the years. They had a couple of mutual friends who eventually set them up.

Lachlan had shied away from dating with his life being so busy, but on that first date with Anna, he enjoyed himself and decided maybe he could fit dating into his busy world. In those first few dates, he found himself liking her clever humour although now found it to be often more snarky than clever. Anna MacDonald was a confident, independent woman. Beautiful. Sociable. A man should be so lucky to date her. Never mind live with her. Possibly marry her. Even his mam was not so subtle in encouraging his relationship with Anna, not that she knew her overly well. Lachlan suspected it had more to do with the fact that she was a MacDonald—her family had a good reputation.

Lachlan sighed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about the boxes she ticked, and wondering why in the hell he wasn’t jumping at the chance to have Anna MacDonald move in with him. Pushing thoughts about his relationship with Anna aside, he got up out of bed and padded to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

As he got ready for the day, he found that more often than not, his thoughts turned to Violet and not Anna. A concern for the lass sat heavy in his chest. Not knowing how she faired bothered him. He tried to tell himself that he needn’t worry, as she was in the best place possible. Surely, the hospital staff were doing everything they could to take care of her. It was not like he could do anything to help her. Why couldn’t he just let it go?

She’d haunted his dreams in the night. It bothered him that his dreams were so disjointed, although he couldn’t recall much. There was one part of a dream that was incredibly vivid and real. Not only could he remember every detail, but he couldn’t forget it if he tried.

In the dream, Violet was talking to him, her green eyes so intense. They were on the beach. He let his eyes drop to her lips, which smiled teasingly at him. The need to kiss them and taste them was overpowering. It was like he knew that kissing them would unlock another world. The dream was so intense, and the sensations were so real. He desperately wanted to kiss those lips that promised something magical, and as he leaned in, desire like he’d never known singed him. But right before their mouths connected, he’d awoken with a start. His heart was pounding, and his cock was painfully hard.

As the dream replayed in his mind, he wondered what the hell was wrong with him. The content wasn’t the worst, but it was how he felt. Crazy intense off the fucking charts arousal. Not that he could control his dreams per se. But Christ, he shouldn’t be having dreams like that.

For one, he had a girlfriend. It damn-near felt like cheating, and Lachlan found cheating repugnant. Two, why would the anticipation of a mere kiss make him off-the-charts aroused? And three, the worst reason of all. He was having dirty dreams about a lass who was in the hospital with a head injury. Lachlan groaned, unimpressed with himself.Very gentlemanly, he thought sardonically. Thank God it was just a bloody dream.

Lachlan was planning to go to the distillery to do some paperwork for the deal he’d made last night with his new client. His admin, Iona, would take care of most of it after the weekend, but he wanted to get things started. After a quick lifting session in his home gym, he showered and dressed, got into his car, and headed for work. Violet was still very much on his mind, though. Normally, he wasn’t the easily distracted type. He was usually very focused, probably one of the traits that had made him so successful. But today, he was mightily distracted.

Accepting that he was not going to get anything done until he knew how the lass faired, he pulled a U-turn. It was apparent he’d never get the lass off his mind until he checked in. He’d get some flowers, go check on her, and then go to work and move on with his life. Then perhaps his mind would be clear enough to figure out what he was going to do about Anna.

Chapter 5

The Hospital

Whenhearrivedatthe hospital, he went to the information desk. An overly tanned, leathery-looking woman with pointed, fake fluorescent pink nails sitting on the other side of the desk sighed heavily before looking up at him as if it pained her to be interrupted from what she was doing, which appeared to be playing a game on her phone. Her eyes landed on him, and it was like a neon sign on a casino flicking on. Her face lit up as she straightened and leaned forward toward him.

“Can I help ye?” she said breathily as her eyes trailed greedily over him.

Lachlan smiled politely despite feeling like a piece of cake she’d like to devour. “Good morning. I was hoping ye could tell me which room Violet Munro is in?”

“Och, aye, of course. One second, love.” She clicked away on her keyboard with surprising efficiency, given the length of her nails. “Are ye family?” she asked.

“Aye,” Lachlan lied and cringed inside. He never lied, but he realized he might not be allowed to see the lass if he wasn’t family.

The woman looked up at him. Her eyes narrowed. “Husband?”

Lachlan nodded, feeling his neck heat. Christ, for all he knew, her actual husband could be in the room with her now.

The woman glanced at the bouquet in his hand and must have decided that he was being truthful. “Second floor. Ward eight. Room Two B. The elevator is just behind ye love.” She grinned up at him.

“Thank ye.” He nodded and turned toward the elevator.

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