Good Girl Gone Plaid (22 page)

“And as she grew older?”

“Well, then it wasn’t enough. She wanted to know who you were and why you weren’t around.”

She winced at the sharp breath he drew in, and then the string of soft curses he dropped.

“And what did you say then?”

“I said I would tell her the whole story when she was old enough to understand. And then I’d change the topic.” She let out a humorless laugh. “I got great at diverting conversations.”

“I bet.”

Ouch
.

“Sorry. I’m trying. Trying to let go of the anger, but it’s going to come out now and then.” He turned to look out over the water again. He thrust a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I just don’t want to wait to tell her. She’s gone ten years without knowing who her father is, and I’d rather not waste any more time dancing around it.”

Her heart started thumping double time, as the scene of how that would go down played in her head. Just the idea of doing it made her stomach hurt.

“Look, my family is heading out to the Highland Games tomorrow in Bellingham. Why don’t you bring Emily and come have some fun. She can meet everyone, watch us do our thing and then we’ll spend some time together.”

“And then?”

“Then we’ll see how it goes. If the moment feels right, we’ll tell her.”

The Highland Games. Of course Ian would be going. The McLaughlins traveled to all the somewhat local ones—even some non-local ones. And the family had always been incredibly popular at them. There was even a fan base of young girls that followed the brothers around.

“Okay,” she agreed, because what else could she say? “And at the end of the summer? What then?”

Why had she just asked that? Was she insane? She couldn’t even imagine tomorrow, let alone two months from now.

But when she risked another glance at Ian, she found him watching her again. This time his expression had changed, become more considering. As if he’d just thought of something.

Which made her wonder if he was getting any crazy ideas in his head.

Ian didn’t even want to contemplate the end of summer. Really, he couldn’t. Right now was more than enough to focus on.

“I don’t right know what happens after the end of summer,” he confessed. “Let’s just take it one day at a time.”

His words did little to ease Sarah’s troubled gaze, and because he’d wanted to do it for the last few moments, he reached out to trace his fingers over the pale softness of one cheek.

Surprisingly, she didn’t pull away and her lips even parted slightly. Resignation flared with the heat in her eyes, as if she realized, as he had, that fighting this passion between them was hopeless.

“Sarah,” he murmured her name on a sigh.

Her eyes rounded and he was again sucked in by their dark intensity.

Alone together on the wharf, with the stars above them and their bodies so close, he couldn’t help but be aware of her. To let his mind drift back to what it had been like to make love to her again like he had last night.

To erase the bullshit experience he’d given her yesterday morning, and replace it with something more romantic.

Romantic
? What the hell was wrong with him?

With every breath he drew in, there was the smell of salt and seaweed from Penn Cove, but there was the scent of lavender lotion that he would always associate with Sarah.

When she shivered, his attention shifted to her bare arms. He wasn’t cocky enough to think it was all due to him. The tank top must not be keeping her warm—beneath the cotton he could see her nipples pressed taut.

“You’re cold?”

“A little,” she mumbled, before her gaze slipped away.

“Here.” Shrugging out of the flannel he wore over a T-shirt, he placed it around her shoulders.

“You’ll be cold,” she protested, even as she slipped her arms into it.

“I don’t get cold easily. Too much body fat.” He deftly fastened the buttons on the shirt.

She made a soft snort of derision likely at his unwarranted fat joke, but it ended on a gasp when his fingers brushed the swell of her breast.

This time, when he met her gaze, there was nothing but desire in her eyes.

Ah fuck it all.
With his fingers still holding his shirt, he used it to tug her closer.

Her hands came up between them, resting on his stomach as her head tilted up toward his. Her mouth parting in an offering maybe she wasn’t even aware of.

Whether it was a good idea or not, Ian took it. He lowered his head and kissed her.

First just a taste. A reminder of the soft fullness of her mouth that he’d always loved. And then, when she made that breathy little sigh, he dipped his tongue past her lips to drink deeper.

So sweet. Almost intoxicating. It had always been like this when they’d kissed. He’d become drunk on her mouth.

His body stirred to life, but he struggled to control it. They couldn’t take this too far. Sarah had to get back to Emily soon.

But for now, for a few more minutes, he could enjoy her. Enjoy the moment. He loved the gentle way her tongue sparred with his, and the way the tips of her breasts just barely touched his chest.

When they pulled apart a few minutes later, he drew in a long, unsteady breath. She laid her head against his chest, and he folded her tighter into his arms.

It felt so good to hold her like this. Without anger. Without motivation.

“We’re good this way.”

“What do you mean?”

“Physically. We work really well together.” His mind latched onto the idea. “We shouldn’t write the possibility of us off.”

“I don’t know.” Wariness crept into her words, but she didn’t pull away. “It might just complicate things.”

How could it complicate things? They’d already stepped in that puddle anyway by sleeping together. They already had a daughter together, and after their little slip up this morning, there was the possibility of another one.

An idea flashed through his head again, just as it had several minutes ago. At first he’d written it off as ridiculous, but it hadn’t gone away. And the longer it fermented in his head it began to almost make sense.

“Sarah, maybe we should just get married.”

Now she did pull away, and rather quickly. “Get married? What…? Where did that come from?”

“It’s actually quite a brilliant solution, the more I think about it.” The idea gained momentum and he could hear his words grow more animated. “I mean the number one reason would be for Emily, but getting married wouldn’t be so bad.”

She tilted her head and said flatly, “Just a
little
bad, huh?”

“Look, we’re amazing in bed. We likely even care about each other if we would stop being stubborn and admit it—”

“Ian…”

“A moment to finish my thoughts, doll. You’re struggling financially, and I’m doing quite well right now. How can this not be a win-win solution? We should do it. Let’s get married.”

She stared at him, eyes narrowed again. “This is your idea of a proposal?”

“I, er, guess?” He chuckled at the thought of what his brothers would say if they could see him now. “It’s funny, actually. I used to tell Colin that marriage was for suckers and that I’d never throw myself under that bus. But I would do it for you.”

“Throw yourself under the bus?” she repeated with slow deliberation. “Marrying me would be equivalent to throwing yourself under a bus?”

“Yes. Wait, what?” Ian blinked and ran back in his head what he’d said. His excitement faded instantly.

Ah shite
. He’d completely fucked this up.

“Um, would you believe that came out a bit wrong?”

“Yeah, I really would believe that.” Her eyes flashed with anger, but there was a hint of amusement beneath. She pushed away from him and folded her arms across her chest. “Look, clearly you
suck
at proposing—not that I’d marry you anyway.”

“You won’t?” Why did that make his heart sink a bit? “Why not?”

“Because we’re not going to make good sex the foundation for marriage.”

“Okay, but I gave a few other reasons.”

“Emily, yes.” She snorted. “And the other one basically being an offer to be my sugar daddy.”

Hmm, yes, he’d blown the marriage topic completely.

“I have money, it’s just tight right now with paying off a divorce.”

Right. Of course she was right. About everything. But getting married had seemed to make perfect sense. And yet marriage did need more than all the asinine reasons he’d just listed, didn’t it?

Not that he was one of those romantics who demanded love. You could make yourself love anybody. Which made another random thought race through his head.

“Out of curiosity, is that what you did before?” he asked. “When you married that Neil guy? Confuse good sex for love?”

Her irritation visibly faded into dismay, and then wariness flickered in her eyes before she answered. “No, not at all. I didn’t even sleep with him until we were married. And after that it was just a handful of times.”

Mind blown.

Ian watched, completely flummoxed as she turned to stare back out over the water.

Only a handful of times? How long had they been married? Seven or eight years? That had to be one of the reasons why the marriage had ended.

“You rarely had sex? But why? Was he terrible in bed?”

With the flow of conversation, it had been a natural question. Until he’d realized he didn’t want the image of Sarah in bed with another man. The idea of it kind of made him want to punch something. Or someone.

She was silent for a moment. “It doesn’t matter. I’d rather not talk about it, okay?”

Actually, that was quite fine with him. “Okay.”

They fell into another silence. Who knew where her mind had gone, but his had managed to jump right back into the marriage idea.

Maybe it wasn’t for the right reasons, but they had some compelling reasons, didn’t they?

If he hadn’t fucked up when they were first together, they would’ve probably been married by now anyway.

Guilt, heavy and familiar, gripped him at the thought of that night. It had become exhausting all the countless times he’d played it back in his head, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. When he’d made that choice to throw away everything he’d had with Sarah.

“I’ll see if I can borrow Mom’s rental car tomorrow, and drive up to Bellingham to see you guys.”

Relief slid through him as he glanced at her—found a tiny smile playing around her mouth now.

“Aye?”

“Yes. Emily will love it. I always enjoyed the Highland Games.” She met his gaze. “When we were dating I was so excited for summer to arrive so that I could hang out and watch you guys at all the games.” Her lashes fluttered down. “And I would know half the girls in attendance would be jealous of me, because
I
was Ian McLaughlin’s girlfriend.”

His heart kicked up a notch at her soft admission, and the tiny seed of hope inside him grew an inch.

“I’m sorry we didn’t make it ’til summer, because I would’ve loved having you there as my girl watching me, doll.”

Was it his imagination, or did she blush at his last words? It was difficult to tell in the darkness.

“I hope you and Emily will cheer me on tomorrow.”

“Yes, of course we will. We’ll cheer for all the McLaughlins.” She gave a half-smile. “I mean, that’s half of who Emily is, right? Scotland is in her blood.”

“Aye.”

The intimacy of the conversation just made him more aware of her. Sarah. His lover then and now. The mother of his child. She looked so small and fragile wearing his shirt. So absolutely right.

I want her back
.

The realization settled with a heavy finality. Not just for a few nights in bed, but on a forever basis.

The thought alone was staggering and the implications overwhelming. But he didn’t run from them. Instead he reached out and cupped her upper arm, turning her toward him again.

“I know I completely blew that attempt at proposing, but my intentions were good. Just promise me you’ll consider it, all right?”

She didn’t answer all right, and he sensed she was genuinely surprised.

“Sarah?”

Finally she gave a small nod. “Okay, but—”

Ian brushed his mouth over hers to steal away whatever protest she was trying to come up with.

Again she didn’t pull away, and again it gave him hope. He tasted her deeply and thoroughly, until his body began to stir and his heart beat harder.

It was just another small taste, but he wanted it to tide him over until they had another night together. Because there would be another night, and soon.

He slowed the kiss, brushing his lips over hers one last time before he had to take her home. It wasn’t their parents setting a curfew nowadays, but their daughter, Emily, who needed her mother.

“Think about it,” he murmured against her lips. “Promise.”