Page 69 of Scotch & Dreams

Gathering up her resolve, she picked up the bouquet of flowers, looked again in awe, then shook her head and marched out the back door of her cottage and into the garden. The rain had eased, and the sun was trying to peep through the clearing clouds. She didn't feel right about throwing away perfectly gorgeous flowers, but she certainly didn’t want to look at them all day in her cottage—a constant reminder. She needed to be strong. Violet had to protect her heart.

She put them in a vase on the rickety metal patio table, studied them, and picked them up again. She moved them a few feet away by the ivy-covered stone shed. Stepping back, she stared at them with her arms crossed under her chest. She nibbled her lower lip, anxiety niggling at her. Walking back over to the flowers, she picked them up and walked them around the backside of the shed, setting them on the ground against it.

Stepping back, she realized it looked a bit like flowers set near a gravestone, and then she decided it was the perfect spot. Maybe it was ridiculous, but somehow, it made her feel a small sense of control over her stupid emotions with Lachlan.

She marched confidently back into the house only to see the beautiful blanket. “Arghh,” she grumbled. She picked it up and cuddled it into her chest, allowing herself to savour it for a moment. Then she stretched out her arms and held it in front of her, admiring how beautiful it was. “Crap.” She sighed as she folded it up and stuffed it back in the bag, and before she could change her mind, she quickly shoved the bag into her bedroom closet. Closing the door, she somehow felt a sense of empowerment. Out of sight, out of mind. She wasn’t going to let him in, and that was that. With her head still aching, she decided to go back to bed.

Lachlan left Violet feeling unreasonably disappointed that he hadn’t actually had the chance to see her and talk with her. He wasn’t totally sure what he was going to say. He supposed he’d ask her out on a date. Try and put the horse back behind the cart, so to speak. The whole thing was complicated, being he was her boss and there were other employees who’d obviously catch wind of things, but as he drove, he decided that they could figure it out—one step at a time.

Lachlan headed to the distillery to do some work there. He thought it might be a good idea to busy himself. He was sure that once Violet had a free moment, she would give him a ring. He was getting annoyed with himself for continually checking his phone.

He found his mind wandering, making excuses for why Violet hadn’t called him. Maybe Fiona was still with her, and she hadn’t had the chance yet. As the day turned to evening, though, he hadn’t heard from her. He decided he’d call her.

For a guy who talked to all kinds of people on a regular basis, it was shocking how nervous he felt as the phone rang. And then it went to her voicemail. He didn't want to speak to her voicemail, but it felt better than just sending a text.

"Hi, V. I'm sorry I missed seeing ye this morning. I hope ye had a good day." He paused. "I'd love to see ye, lass, if ye're not busy. It doesnae huv to be tonight," he added quickly, not wanting to pressure her last minute. "Uh, anyway, give me a ring when ye huv a minute. Right, well. Speak soon then." He hung up, scrunching his eyes closed. God, had he ever been so awkward in his life? Blowing out a breath, he sat back at his desk and tried to focus on this month's batch numbers.

The evening wore on. Lachlan stretched and looked at his watch: ten p.m. He picked up his phone—no messages from Violet, but there was one from Orlagh. He opened it and read?

Orlagh: Sooo??

With a smile, he stood from his mahogany desk and walked over to the small wood marquetry cabinet that had been his grandda's and opened it up, pulling out a bottle. He always attempted to rotate the latest whiskys from the most current bottling.

He poured himself a dram and sat back at his desk. He buried his mind in his work, although more than once, he thought how he'd like to have Violet there to ask her opinion. The next time he looked at his watch, it was after midnight. He glanced down at his phone and sighed, seeing no messages from Violet. He decided it was time to head home. He’d have a chance to see Violet tomorrow at the sanctuary. They could talk then.

Chapter 40

The Loving Husband

ThefollowingmorningLachlanarrived at the sanctuary later than he’d intended. He'd slept through his alarm—something he hadn't done since he was a teen. His usual morning routine included a lifting session in his home gym, but today, he was already behind, and all he had on his mind was seeing Violet.

He tried on one too many ties and actually cut himself shaving. With the way the day started, he should've known it was a sign for how the rest of the day would go.

When he got to the sanctuary, it seemed like everyone needed to speak to him for one thing or another. One of the horses had taken ill over the weekend, and they had the vet in. Lachlan needed to speak to the vet. Fortunately, it seemed like it wasn’t too serious, but the horse would need meds administered two times a day for the next week. Then, the admin staff needed to talk to him about the camp numbers. Then the events team wanted to talk to him about an upcoming teen fest they were planning.

At two p.m., Lachlan finally had a moment to search out Violet. He was surprised he hadn’t passed by her yet. He went down to the pasture, sure she must be out there as she hadn’t been in the stables, but he didn’t find her there. He walked through the makeshift office cubicles, noting that he needed to add it to the list of to-do’s to have someone design the space properly, but still no Violet. In fairness, he wasn't sure she even had a workspace in the main room. She spent most of the time working in the back room with him, but she hadn’t been there today in the brief moments he’d gone to his desk.

Finally, when he didn’t see her, he returned to the front reception. “Hello, Effie, how's things up here?

"Och, Lachlan." A grin lit her face, her eyes crinkling in the corners. "Busy as a bee, but it keeps me young.”

"Aye." He agreed, and a blush touched her round cheeks. "Huv ye seen Violet around today?”

“Oh, no, she phoned in earlier. She’s feeling under the weather, so she decided to stay put today. Poor thing.”

“She’s sick?” Lachlan felt instantly concerned.

“Aye, well, she didnae go into detail, but she sounded rather rough on the phone. Hopefully, the lassie will feel better soon.”

“Aye. Thanks, Effie.” Lachlan was deep in thought when someone else came and snagged him with another fire to put out. He was missing Violet today in more ways than one.

As soon as Lachlan could, he snuck out of the sanctuary and zipped home. After taking Sally for a quick jaunt, he grabbed a container of bone broth soup he'd made a few weeks back from the freezer and headed back out the door. Next, he stopped by the pharmacy and stocked up. Who knew what kind of bug she’d come down with, but Lachlan was going prepared. He picked up cold medication, something for fevers, and something for nausea. Then he grabbed a bottle of ginger ale. Finally, he picked up three grapefruits.

As he stood in line to make his purchases, he saw a couple books on display. One had a burly half-naked dude on the cover—His Hidden Starby Eliza Rockwood. The other had a couple kissing on the cover—Her Hidden Valentinealso by Eliza Rockwood. It brought a smile to his face as it reminded him of the book Violet had on her nightstand that morning he’d picked her up from the hospital.

He wondered if she'd read this author's books. It appeared to be a series. As he got to the till, he picked up a copy of each of the books and stacked them with the other items he was buying. The middle-aged cashier scanned it through and looked at him with a sly smile. He smiled back politely as he tapped his cell phone to pay.

She packed everything into a brown paper bag and leaned forward, looking at him like she needed to tell him a secret. Obligingly, he leaned a little in toward her. "Eliza Rockwood is one of my favourite authors. Are they fer yer wife?” She grinned at him like she'd made a new friend.

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