Page 74 of Scotch & Dreams

Lachlan sat back in the hospital chair. Maybe she was right. Maybe he should. He ran a hand through his hair. He missed Violet. He wasn’t sure he could handle her wonderfulness, though. She was like a happy drug for him, and right now, he didn’t think he could do happy.Do happy?He could see Orlagh rolling her eyes at the sentiment. Orlagh liked Violet. “Ack Rolo, I need your advice, wake up love.” But Olragh laid still, not reacting. Her peaceful state was unchanging. Lachlan sighed heavily. “See ye tomorrow then.” He kissed her forehead and left her room.

Lachlan headed to the beach to try and clear his head. He noticed someone jogging along the shoreline. The sun was setting. He couldn’t help but be reminded of that fateful night he’d met Violet. What a crazy experience that was. God, but there was something about her that drew him in from the moment he saw her. She was magnetic. She had a way of making him feel fulfilled and happy just by being in her presence.

A hint of a smile touched his lips. The first in days. It struck him. It wasn’t just about seeing Violet. He needed her. She made his world a better place, and he was in sore need of that now. Lachlan decided he’d call her when he got back home.

At first, he didn’t notice her sitting on the steps out front when he pulled up his gravel drive. Lachlan closed his car door, thinking about Violet, when the very voice of his dreams startled him.

“Hey.”

“Violet, what are ye doing here?” He was so taken aback at seeing her, he realized belatedly that it was the wrong thing to say.

“Checking if you’re alive, which clearly you are," she snapped. "You can take back your blanket and flowers.” She shoved them toward him. He took them uneasily. She was clearly ticked at him.Shite. Not that he could blame her exactly, but he hadn’t seen this side of Violet. She was always so amiable and sweet.

"Consider this my notice.”

Tearing his gaze away from her perfect ass that swung back and forth as she marched away from him, his brain caught up with what she meant, and he realized he needed to fix things. Now.

“V, wait,” he called out to her, knowing he'd royally fucked up. When she didn’t respond, he started after her. “Wait, please dinnae leave.”

She turned around abruptly with her arms crossed tightly under her perky boobs. “What?" Her voice was clipped.

He’d never her seen her so feisty, and he inwardly chided himself for liking it.

“Where are ye going?” he asked, still not sure what to say. This was not like him in the least, he always knew what to say.

An unimpressed smile touched her mouth. “Home,” she said tightly. And suddenly, he feared thathomemeant back to Canada.

“You’re mad at me?” he said softly.

“I’m confused by you. You treat me like an equal with business, but with everything else, you are all over the map. I don’t like games, Lachlan. And it seems to me thatyoudo. One minute, you’re hot and heavy. The next, you’re bringing me soup, and then the next, you ghost me. I’m out. Done. No more games. It’s exhausting. I brought you back the flowers and tartan because I don’t want them. I don’t want the games. Not interested. And as much as I love it at Highland Haven, I can't stay. I just can't.” She turned on her heel and started to walk away again.

"Violet, ye dinnae understand." His anger suddenly pricked, the emotional exhaustion of the past few days catching up to him. She had it all wrong, damn it. “I’m no’ playing games,” he called out to her, his own tone more short than he intended.

“Call it what you want, Lachlan. I’m done,” she snapped, dismissively.

Lachlan felt her jilt. Damn her for looking sexy as hell as she walked away from him. Her black jeans hugged her shapely thighs, and there was nothing more hot than a woman who could stomp away in high heels. Didn't she understand what she did to him? Didn't she understand how much he needed her? Hungered for her like some kind of pent-up tiger who hadn’t eaten in a week.

“Violet,” he called again, gruffly knowing there was no way on God’s green earth he could let her just walk out of his life.

“What?” she said, clearly frustrated as she whipped around. “What, Lachlan? What do you want from me? ’Cause from where I stand, it doesn’t seem like much. I’m not going to be strung along.” She raged at him, and it only served to heighten his own raw emotions.

Lachlan was usually a very patient person, but with all that had been going on, he felt frayed. His blood began to simmer. A wicked combination of ragged emotion and pent-up desire. He spoke slowly as he tried to wrangle in his frustration.

“Could ye please come in so we can talk?”

She was a good ten paces away and not taking any warning from his tone because she stubbornly called back to him. “Nope. No, Lachlan. You know what? I’m done with talking,” she snapped.

As am I, he thought to himself. And without another thought, he discarded the flowers and tartan he’d been holding, and he closed the distance between them in three determined strides.

“Bloody stubborn lass!” he growled as he scooped her up and unceremoniously threw her over his shoulder.

She squealed in outrage. “What are you doing? You neanderthal!” she hollered, squirming against him, which was not helping her cause in the least.

Lachlan felt like a feral beast, and he didn't care. Something had snapped in him.Saint Lachlanhad been thrown over the proverbial cliff.Good fucking riddance.He held firmly around her waist, carrying her like a whisky barrel on his shoulder. The more she wriggled, the tighter he held her.

Chapter 45

No More Games

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