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Authors: Georgia Cates

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Chapter Twenty-Nine
Laurelyn Prescott

I
see
the look in Lachlan’s eyes and I know what he’s thinking—my mother is sorry and lowdown. And there have been times when she has been; she isn’t perfect. If I’m honest, she has been a shitty mother, but she’s the only parent I have. At least she’s been there—that’s more than I can say for the sperm donor.

Maybe I should regret telling him this secret I’ve kept for fifteen years, but I don’t. I feel a burden lift from my heart and soul. Only one word describes what I’m experiencing: peace.

Lachlan’s squatting in front of me, his hands on my knees. I slide to the edge of my seat and he wraps his arms around me. It’s in this moment that I realize something—I can tell Lachlan anything. There is no pretense of perfection between us. I don’t need him to believe I have it all together when I don’t. “That felt so damn good.”

“What did?”

I’m almost giddy by my epiphany. “Telling you what happened with my mom and finally admitting what a shitty job she did as a parent before she got clean. I had no idea how great it would feel to finally tell someone.”

“I think that’s why therapy is so highly recommended.”

There he goes with the medical advice again. “Yes, Dr. Henry. I believe you could be right on this account.”

“I’m always right on every account.”

We go back into the pool after we finish eating and I can tell that Lachlan is nervous. I assure him I’m fine, but he won’t venture past the steps, and we sit staggered in the water with me between his legs. The dam holding all my secrets is breached and I tell him things I thought I would take to my grave.

Lachlan listens and says little. I’m not sure if it’s because he doesn’t know how to respond or if he’s too disturbed by what he’s hearing. It doesn’t matter because reaction isn’t what I need. Listening is, and it’s one of the things he does very well.

By the time I finish telling Lachlan my childhood tales, the water has shriveled us like little old people. I hold my hand up to examine it. “I think this is a sign that it’s past time to get out.”

“I think you’re right.”

Once we’re dried off, I wrap my towel around my waist. As I’m tucking it, I see Lachlan studying me. “What?”

He drops his head to peer over his sunglasses at me. “I hope you haven’t caught too much sun today. You’re a wee bit red.”

I look at my shoulder and pull the strap of my bikini to the side. I hear Lachlan suck air through his teeth. “Damn, Laurelyn. I’m afraid that’s going to sting tonight.”

Lachlan is not the least bit pink, so I move the top of my bikini down for an inspection. It doesn’t hurt or appear burned to me, but I won’t be able to tell anything until we’re out of the sun.

We stop in the kitchen to drop off our lunch plates and Mrs. Porcelli’s eyes grow large when she sees me. “Oh, Laurelyn dear. There’s an aloe vera aftersun lotion in the medicine cabinet when you’re ready for it. There’s lidocaine in it and it should help with the pain.”

Oh, shit. What have I done?

We go into the bathroom together and I slip off my towel. Things aren’t so bad when I remove my bikini top. Sure, there’s a distinct contrast between my freshly sun-kissed skin and the white lines of my swimsuit, but it’s not terrible.

He’s standing behind me surveying the damage. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve noticed when you started burning.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t stay pink for long.” He looks doubtful as he assesses my shoulders. “Really, Lachlan. You’ll see. This will be on its way to turning brown by morning.”

“In the meantime, why don’t you take a cool shower? That should help, and I’ll rub you down with lotion when you’re out.”

A rubdown by Lachlan? Being sunburned is sounding better and better. “That sounds perfect.”

He’s right. The cool shower feels really nice. I notice my shoulders are a little tender to the water pelting down on them, but it’s nothing too uncomfortable.

When I’m finished showering, I pat my skin dry and step out to find Lachlan waiting for me with a bottle of aloe vera lotion. He holds it up and gives it a shake as he grins. “Do you want me to do it in here with you standing, or would you rather I do it with you lying on the bed?”

Hmm, that sounds dirty. “I don’t know. Both options sound appealing.”

“I vote for the bed.”

“Then, the bed it is.”

“Here. Mrs. Porcelli sent these for you.” He holds out two pills in the palm of his hand. “It’s only ibuprofen to help with the discomfort.”

“But it doesn’t hurt.”

“It will, so please take the medicine. I don’t want you to be in pain.”

I take the pills and the glass of water he offers. I’m terrible at swallowing pills since I’ve made a habit of avoiding them. These aren’t big, so I manage to get them down, but not without some unattractive sputtering. When I’m done, I pass the glass back to him. “Happy now, Dr. Henry?”

“Very.”

I twist my towel around my hair before I crawl up onto the bed to lie on my stomach for my post-sun care. I rest my arms over my head and I feel the bed dip when Lachlan crawls up. “This may be a little cool, but it’ll feel good.”

He squirts it directly on my back and I arch. “Shit, that’s cold!” I squeal.

“It’s not really. It just feels that way because your skin is feverish.”

He rubs the cool lotion into my skin and it’s very soothing. My entire body goes lax as I enjoy what feels more like a massage than a post-sunburn lotion application.

I’m so relaxed, I’m almost asleep when I hear “Jolene” playing on my phone. My eyes pop open and I feel Lachlan leave my back. “I’ll get it for you.”

He passes my phone to me. “Hey, Mom.”

“Laurie, I’ve been calling you for hours. Have you not checked your phone?”

She sounds panicked, which panics me, and my first thought is that something has happened to Nanna or Pops. I sit up in the middle of the bed, preparing myself to hear the worst. “What’s happened, Mom?”

“I can’t believe you haven’t heard. It’s been all over the news.”

Okay, nothing has happened to my grandparents so I shift to my aggravation mode. “Mom, what’s going on?”

“Jared Beckett was killed in a skiing accident today.”

I should’ve known this would somehow involve the sperm donor. “And this is emergency news for me because?”

“Because he’s your brother, Laurie.”

“Whom I’ve never met.”

“He’s your father’s son.”

“Again, whom I’ve never met.” Am I the only one hearing the common denominator here?

“You need to come home.”

Good grief. “This isn’t a reason for me to come home.”

“You need to pay your condolences, Laurie.” Oh, hell. This is about getting me in with the sperm donor. What does she think is going to happen? He’s going to suddenly want me in his life now that he’s lost his only child?

I realize I’m stark naked and talking to my mom about the death of my sperm donor’s son when Lachlan holds out one of his T-shirts for me. I mouth thank you to him and slip the shirt over my head while my mom chatters nonsense about the need of being with family in times like this.

“We share DNA, but I’m no part of their family. They wouldn’t know me if we passed on the street.”

“Your father is going to want to know you.”

I stopped fantasizing about him wanting to know me a long time ago, but she never has. I’m almost twenty-three years old and she’s still holding out for something—I don’t know what. Maybe she thinks he’ll want to meet his daughter and it’ll lead him back to her.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m not coming home for this.”

“I think you’re making a mistake.”

“If I am, then I’ll be the one who has to live with it.” I’d always been the one to live with both of our mistakes anyway, so I was used to it.

She isn’t happy with me when I end our call and it leaves me feeling unsettled, although I know I’m making a logical decision. Between the two of us, someone has to be rational and I can’t depend on it to be her. She isn’t well known for making the best choices when it comes to my father.

“I assume there’s trouble at home.”

Yes, but only what my mom is making for me. “My father’s son was killed in a snow-skiing accident.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He’s a half-brother I’ve never met and my mom is acting like I should be in mourning. Hell, when she said his name, it took a minute for me to realize whom she was talking about. He’s a stranger to me. I’m sorry for his family’s loss, but I don’t feel anything more. Is that wrong?”

“No, Laurelyn. You’re not wrong for the way you feel. Please, don’t let your mum make you feel guilty.”

I’m certain he thinks she is a terrible mother after everything he’s learned about her today. “You must think even worse of my mom now.”

“She doesn’t make the top-ten list of my favorites today. You, however, make the number-one position.” He pulls me close to kiss the top of my head. I love the way he makes my worries disappear.

How can this be? This man, almost a stranger, brings me comfort and makes it easy for me to bare my soul to him. As I ask myself how it’s possible, I know the answer. I don’t have to guard my heart with Lachlan. I’m safe with him. And it’s nice.

Chapter Thirty
Jack McLachlan

L
aurelyn doesn’t know
it’s my birthday or that the only wish I have is to stay home with her. But I can’t. I have to go to my parents’ house for my annual birthday dinner with the whole family. What a ripper day this will be.

She’s been living with me for two weeks and I’m surprised by the way I feel as I drive away, leaving her at the house. I want to go back for her. I consider whipping the Sunset around, but I remind myself of the rules I have in place and why meeting my family is one that can’t be broken.

I haven’t seen my family in almost three weeks, not since my mother sent me back to Avalon to be with Laurelyn on Christmas Day. Thank you, Mum. It was the best gift you could have given me.

My mum has made a point to speak to me weekly about my relationship with my “girlfriend” and I’m not looking forward to showing up without her again. Margaret McLachlan is going to be very put out with me over Laurelyn’s absence. I shouldn’t have told her I’d bring her to my birthday dinner, but I didn’t have a reasonable excuse to give her when we discussed it.

I walk through the door and Mum flies into the foyer. She’s smiling and her eyes are wide with anticipation, but then I see them fill with disappointment when she notes the emptiness beside me. I feel like a shitty son. “Where is she?”

“I’m sorry, Mum. Laurelyn wasn’t feeling well. We think she has the stomach flu. She told me to tell you how sorry she is that she couldn’t make it.”

She gives me a look of disapproval and I know I’ve done all wrong. “And you left her alone while she’s sick?”

Shit. I didn’t think of that. “I’m paying Mrs. Porcelli to take care of her.”

Now, she’s really giving me her disapproval. “What kind of message does that send if you leave her when she’s sick, Jack Henry?”

I feel like a cur, although I’m guilty of nothing. Almost. “I didn’t think of that.”

“You boys never do, but it’s not from lack of me trying.” Mum stalks out of the foyer into the kitchen. She’s pissed off and I want her to know her lessons weren’t in vain. She’d be proud of how considerate I am with Laurelyn, but I can’t tell her, so I’m forced to endure her disapproval instead.

I go into the living room where my dad and brother are, hoping to find neutral ground among them. I have no doubt Mum is in the kitchen telling Chloe and Emma what I did. Soon I’ll have the whole adult female household against me. I’ll be lucky if my nieces, Celia and Mila, aren’t included in the pact.

Evan is sitting in the floor with his kids and laughs at me when I plop on the couch. “I heard Mum fussing at you all the way in here. What did you do?”

“Fussing? That’s your vocabulary now?”

My brother points to his three-year-old. “Delicate ears, Jack, and little mouths repeat interesting words. You’ll understand what I mean one day.”

Yeah, when hell freezes over. “Mum is mad because I left Laurelyn while she’s sick.”

My dad is shaking his head. This is my mistake, but he’s the one who’ll have to hear about it when I’m gone. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

He sighs. “Jack, you don’t know how much she’s been looking forward to meeting this woman you’re dating. It’s all I’ve heard since Christmas and now all I’m going to hear is her carrying on about you screwing it up.”

“Dad, I can’t do anything about it now.”

“You can fix this by telling your mum you’ll bring her for a visit.”

I can’t lie to my mum again. “You know how things pick up this time of year. I might not be able to get away from the vineyard.”

“Don’t forget how well I know the business, son. You’re in charge and you have very capable staff. You can get away for a couple of days to bring that woman here to meet your mum.”

Dammit! “Fine. I’ll tell her.”

We hear a slamming cabinet in the living room. “Tell her now, Jack.”

Fuck! I don’t want my family interfering in my personal life. I get off the couch and walk into the enemy’s territory. Two new pairs of rebuking eyes, those of my sister and sister-in-law, cast upon me in support of my mum’s grievance. My sister flashes her signature hand gesture in the shape of an “L” in my direction as she mouths loser.

“Mum, I’m sorry. Will you forgive me if I bring Laurelyn for a visit? Maybe sometime next month, depending on how things are going at Avalon?”

She stops her physical abuse of the poor potatoes. “I will, but do try to bring her sooner if you can.”

“Of course I will, Mum.”

She’s smiling because she’s hoodwinked and I’m a lying sack of shit. My false promise is a temporary fix for this situation. I’ll soon have to dupe my mum again, and I’m not looking forward to it.

The conversation at dinner is pleasant, much more so than it would have been had I not made nice with Mum, so I’m glad about that much. My dad is especially interested in hearing about the progress I’m making with my grafts. No one else gives a shit, but they assuage Dad by pretending to listen.

After dinner, I’m sitting in the living room watching Mila hold the coffee table for support and then she bravely removes her hand. She’s trying to decide if she wants to take a step and I think I’m about to witness her valiant attempt to walk. “Bro, I think your kid is about to take her first step.”

Evan’s standing in the doorway and his head is buried in his phone, as usual. “Did you hear me, Evan? Mila looks like she’s about to walk.”

He lifts his head for a quick peek at his daughter and is unimpressed. “She teases us like that all the time—acts likes she’s going to do it, then grabs back onto whatever’s in front of her.”

I don’t know. She seems pretty serious to me, but I see Evan isn’t interested. I wonder if I should call Emma to watch. I’m sure she’ll want to see her daughter’s first steps.

“What exactly have you been doing at Avalon, Jack?” Evan asks.

At dinner, I talked for ten minutes about the grafting and he didn’t listen to a damn thing I said. Now he asks me what I’m doing. What a dick. “I’m not explaining all of it again. You should’ve listened at dinner if you were interested.”

“No, bro. That’s not what I mean.” He’s holding my phone and it clicks in my mind what he’s talking about. He’s going through my pictures of Laurelyn—the nearly naked ones.

I dive off the couch and reach to take my phone from him, but he snatches it from my grasp. “Why the hell are you looking at the pictures on my phone?”

He’s leaning away from me so I can’t reach it, but he continues to scan Laurelyn’s pictures. “We have the same phone. I thought it was mine when I picked it up. I wanted to show Mum some pictures of the girls. Good thing I didn’t call her over to take a gander at these.”

“Give me my phone. Now!” I hiss through gritted teeth.

He twists the phone to see a picture from a different angle. “Damn, Jack, are you screwing her in this picture?”

“No!” I don’t know. Maybe. Depends on which picture he’s talking about.

I jerk it out of his hand and he has this look in his eyes. I think it’s admiration, but I can’t be sure. “You lucky bastard. Emma would never let me take pictures like that of her. Not even before she had the kids. And there’s no way she’d let me take a picture of her getting screwed. How did you talk her into letting you do that?”

I’m pissed off at my brother for invading my privacy—and Laurelyn’s—but I roll with it rather than start a fight. It wouldn’t go over well to beat his ass in front of his wife and kids. “Just lucky, I guess.”

I don’t want to talk about Laurelyn this way with him. She’s my secret—one I don’t want to share—and my family is showing way too much interest in her.

“Are you serious about this girl?”

Has my brother lost his mind? I give him my “are you fucking kidding me?” face while I laugh. “I’ve known her a month. What do you think?”

The little shit is laughing at me. “I think you don’t like it that I saw nudie pictures of your girl.”

That part I can’t deny. It makes me sick that he saw what was supposed to be for my eyes only. “She’s not naked.”

“Bullshit.”

Emma comes into the living room and sees the glares passing between us. “What are you two fighting about?”

“Baby, my big brother was just showing me some pictures of his American girlfriend. Go ahead, Jack. Show Emma your girlfriend.”

The fucking traitor wants to sell me out? I’ll fix his ass so he doesn’t get any naughty all month. I thumb through the pics until I find one portraying us as the doting couple and hold it up for Emma. “Evan told me she’s a hot piece of ass and he’d do her. I can’t believe he’d say that about my girlfriend.”

Evan: score zero. Jack: score thirty. As in the number of days my little bro was going to be cock blocked. Hah! Take that you little fucker!

Emma stares him down. “Em, I didn’t say that.”

“Jack’s thirty years old. Am I supposed to just believe he made that up because he has nothing better to do?”

“Yes, he does shit like that to get me in trouble. He doesn’t have a wife so he finds it entertaining to mess with mine.”

Her eyes shoot daggers in his direction. “I’m not discussing this with you now, Evan.”

That’s right, little bro. While you’re not screwing your wife, you can spend the next month with your hand around your dick thinking about how to not fuck with me.

Emma reaches for my phone to take a better look at Laurelyn. “Jack, she’s beautiful. May I show Margaret?”

It’s probably safer for me to hold onto the phone so I can ensure there are no more peep shows. “I’ll show her when she’s finished in the kitchen.”

Emma isn’t going to let me get away without showing Mum pictures of Laurelyn, so I check the camera roll to see where the sexy ones start. The first twelve are all clear, but I’ll only show her the first ten to be safe.

Mum comes into the living room when she’s finished in the kitchen and Emma doesn’t let it slide. “Margaret, Jack has some pictures of his girlfriend on his phone.”

My mum is ecstatic. “Wait, I need my eyes.” She scurries to the kitchen and returns wearing reading glasses. She takes the phone from my hand and holds it where she can see it better. “Oh, Jack Henry. She’s a lovely girl. She’d have beautiful babies.”

Oh, hell. Here we go.

She thumbs to the second picture and it’s Laurelyn holding her Martin guitar. The third is her playing my piano at Avalon. “And she’s a musician. She’d teach your children to play instruments and sing.”

I can hear the wedding bells in my mum’s head.

The next several pictures are random candids Laurelyn doesn’t know I took. Some smiling, some solemn, but always beautiful.

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