Page 67 of Scotch & Dreams

“Ye dinnae huv to worry about my love life.” He knew what his sister was thinking—that he’d mess things up—but if his yelling heart was any indication, she needn’t worry.

“Och, did ye just say love, Lachlan Rory Mackenzie?”

It was Lachlan's turn to roll his eyes, although, in fairness, he didn't mind Orlagh's ribbing this morning.

"Ye huvnae stopped thinking about her since ye met her—admit it—and ye sing her praises all the time.”

“Well, she’s amazing with the business. I've told ye she's become my right hand.” He knew damn well what his sister was trying to say, but he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. It was far too much fun to let her stew.

"God, Lachlan, sometimes, ye're such a numpty. Dinnae ye think ye owe it to yerself to at least see where it could go?”

Lachlan was silent for a moment. Pensive. “Aye."

Orlagh stared at him, bewildered, before she jumped up, clapping her hands together.

"Ye're going to ask her out then? Och, I like her Lachlan, and I huv such a good feeling about the two of ye." She sat back, grinning at him.

Lachlan smiled reluctantly. Orlagh and herfeelings. “Right, well, ye best let me get on with it then,” he said, getting up from the table and taking their mugs to the sink.

“Oh, right,” she said, jumping up and taking her cue to leave. “Keep me posted.” She grinned as she sauntered out of the kitchen. “And don’t forget to give her the tartan!”

Lachlan chuckled, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs to shower.

Chapter 39

Flowers and Romantic Things

Onthedriveover,he stopped at a florist and picked out a bouquet of flowers for Violet. If he was doing this, he was going to do this right, though he struggled to choose just the right ones. The florist must have noted his indecision because she offered to make a custom bouquet. Lachlan liked that idea. It seemed fitting to give this one-of-a-kind woman a one-of-a-kind bouquet.

After asking him to describe Violet, the grinning florist helped him choose a selection of cream and mauve blown roses, Scottish thistle, greenery, and a few sprigs of soft white freesias. According to the florist, the roses represented her timeless beauty, the thistle her hardiness, and the freesias her sweetness. It sounded a bit far-fetched to him, but he had to admit, the final bouquet looked good. He hoped she’d like it.

As Lachlan walked up the path to Violet’s cottage, he suddenly felt nervous—not a feeling he was familiar with—and began to second-guess himself. He wasn’t used to feeling so unnerved, but it seemed that Violet brought about many feelings he was new to.

Ducking under her porch roof to get out of the pelting rain, he knocked on her soft blue front door and felt his heart race as wild as the wind. The door opened, and instead of Violet, another employee from the sanctuary greeted him. An awkwardness replaced his nerves. It took him a moment to remember himself.

“Hi, Fiona.” He smiled, trying to regain his footing. He had made sure he knew all his employees’ names.

“Hi, Lachlan.” She looked understandably puzzled as she waited for him to say something more. Lachlan smiled uncomfortably as Fiona inquisitively eyed him and the oversized bouquet of flowers he held.

“Was Violet supposed to be at the sanctuary this morning?” She smiled at him, feigning ignorance.

He was quite certain they both knew why he was there, and it had nothing to do with Violet missing work.

“What? Och, um, no. I just…” Lachlan was at a loss for words. “Is she here?” he finally managed.

“Aye, she's just popped in the shower. I’m sure she willnae be long. Did ye want to come in? Have a cuppa.” Fiona opened the door wider to allow Lachlan to come in, but he stayed where he was.

He smiled, feeling more awkward than when he and his brothers were lads and gave each other wedgies. “No' a worry. I’ll just ask ye to pass this on to her if ye dinnae mind, and I leave ye two to yer visit.” Lachlan shoved the bouquet and the paper bag with the tartan to Fiona, and turned to walk back down the path with his hands jammed into his pockets.

“Is this from the gala? Did she win it or something?” Fiona called to Lachlan as he was making his way back to his car.

“Uh, aye. From the silent auction,” he called back. He didn’t want to lie, but he wasn’t prepared to tell Fiona why he was bringing gifts to Violet. Things had not gone at all as planned. He hadn't thought about what the staff might think about him dating a fellow employee. Tension crept into Lachlan’s shoulders as he pulled away from Violet’s cottage, deep in thought.

Violet walked out of the bathroom with her hair wrapped in a towel and saw Fiona, closing the door and smiling broadly.

“Well, that was interesting,” she whispered.

“What was interesting?”

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