The Beauty Series Bundle (21 page)

A
fter Lachlan finishes
his work at the Auckland vineyard, we return to Avalon and fall back into our routines. He works every day while I keep busy at the house, waiting for him to come home.

Wow. We have routines. How domestic is that? And I called Avalon home? That’s a minuscule detail that doesn’t evade my attention.

Harvest time for the vineyards is approaching, so Lachlan is working a lot more since our return from New Zealand. I spend time with Addison when she’s not wrapped up with Zac, but I’m still left with a lot of time to keep myself busy, so I do the only thing I can: I throw myself into writing music.

I have a career to return to in four weeks. At least, I hope I still have a career. Blake still owns half the rights to my songs from the record we were producing, and he can shove them up his ass. I’m writing new songs. It’s the wrecked affair with him I worry about. I pray word of it doesn’t get out and ruin everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve.

Wow. I only have four weeks left with Lachlan.

Our precious time together feels like a candle with wicks burning at both ends. Once the flame meets in the middle, we’re over. I’ll never see him again, or hear his laugh or touch his skin. I’ll never share a bed with him again. Am I prepared for it when that time comes? I don’t think I am, but it doesn’t matter if I’m not. It’s coming, and I’d better figure out how to get ready.

I’m thankful to have the Martin and the baby grand at my disposal because Lachlan’s long hours give me a lot of time to compose. Being here inspires me. Hell, I should at least be honest about it. It’s Lachlan who inspires me. I know the stuff I’m writing is gold, but the inspiration behind the music is bittersweet, and I fear I’ve come to that place I didn’t want to be—writing hits because I’m terribly in love.

I’m tinkering with a melody on the baby grand when Mrs. Porcelli comes into the living room. “Dinner is ready and on the stove, Laurelyn, so I’m leaving.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Porcelli. Have a nice evening.”

I play the chorus again, trying to decide if it’s right. “It’s a lovely song, Laurelyn.”

“You’ve been listening?”

She nods. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I doubt you’ve had much choice but to listen. You think it’s good?”

“I think it’s great.”

“Thank you. I hope you’re not the only one who thinks so.”

“I also think he feels the same about you.” I look up from the piano at her. “The song is about Mr. McLachlan, isn’t it?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“I’m afraid so, dear. Have you played it for him?”

“Oh, no. I could never do that.” And I especially couldn’t if the song is that transparent.

“I think you should reconsider. He’d love it.”

“I’ll think about it,” I lie.

“Good. I’ll be choofing off now. Have a good evening.”

I work on my newest song until Lachlan comes home. Home. There’s that word again. I see him standing in the doorway watching me, and I stop singing the moment his eyes meet mine. How long as he been standing there?

“It’s beautiful. Don’t stop on my account.”

“I’ve been at it all day, so I’m ready to call it quits for the night.” I get up from the bench. “Dinner’s ready. Would you like to eat now?”

“Only if you’re joining me.”

I walk to the doorway to kiss him. “I’ve joined you every night for two months. I’m not stopping now.”

I fill our plates with salmon and rice pilaf while Lachlan chooses a vintage, and then we meet at the informal dining table. He pulls my chair out for me and pours my wine. It’s one of the many routines we’ve developed after living together for eight weeks.

“Do you remember me telling you I wanted to take you to Sydney a while back?”

“Yes, and you have tickets for the opera.”

“That’s right. Madama Butterfly. It’s this weekend and I still want you to come with me.”

“I’m in, but I have to warn you—I’m no fan of opera. I don’t understand it.”

“Honestly, I’m not a huge fan myself, but these tickets are a gift from one of my customers in Sydney. They’re balcony seats and I’m afraid he has the tickets for the other seats and will know if I don’t show.”

“You’re so considerate.”

“I’m not being considerate. I’m being business-minded. I don’t want to insult him and lose his account.”

“Well, then, you’re being considerate in your business-mindedness.”

He laughs at me. “Business-mindedness. Say that fast ten times.”

“No, it was hard enough to say it once.”

“The trip won’t be a total bust. We’ll do the opera on Friday night and then I have other plans for us.”

“Like what?”

“I’m not telling you. You’ll have to wait and find out on Saturday, Miss Beckett.”

I
’m wearing
a fitted black cocktail dress and a stole with a pair of tall heels. Devil shoes. That’s what I call them because they’re going to hurt like hell if I walk much in them. But damn, they make me look great, and that’s what I want—to be beautiful for Lachlan, even if it’s painful. I can stand the hurt.

I’m in front of the mirror fastening my diamond pendant around my neck when Lachlan comes into the bathroom. “You’re missing something.”

I inspect myself and take inventory. I don’t know what he’s referring to, but I take the opportunity to mess with him. “How did you know I wasn’t wearing panties?”

His eyes widen and so does his smile as he reaches for the hem of my dress to assess the situation. “You’re not? Well, that happens to be very convenient.”

I swat his hand. “There’ll be none of that until later. What am I missing?”

He pulls a black velvet box from the inner pocket of his jacket. “This.”

I look at the box sitting on his opened palm. “You spoil me, Lachlan.”

“And you love it. Admit it.”

I roll my eyes at him. It’s not that I don’t love being spoiled by Lachlan. I do, but it makes me uncomfortable when he gives me expensive gifts. Anything housed in a jewelry box is going to cost big bucks.

It clicks as he pops its top and I see a pair of diamond solitaire earrings—big ones. I reach out and touch them. “They’re beautiful.”

“They are, but you’re more beautiful.”

He always tells me that. I wonder if he said that to the others.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” I hold out my palm, grinning. “Give me my new earrings so I can put them on.”

He takes them from the box and places them in my hand one at a time. I tilt my head to the side so my hair falls out of the way while I put the first solitaire in. Damn, it’s even bigger in my ear. I wonder how many carats these are? No doubt a lot.

After I put the second one in, I hold my head upright and Lachlan tucks my hair behind my ears for inspection. “Even if minor, diamonds always have some imperfections, but you make these perfect.”

“Thank you for the earrings and the compliment.”

“My pleasure. Are you ready to go?”

“I am.”

We arrive at the Sydney Opera House and Lachlan has made arrangements to park in the concourse section near the entrance since there is no valet. My feet thank him. Otherwise, we’d be doing some trekking from the public parking area.

We’re walking toward the entrance when a man with a huge camera steps in front of us and begins to snap pictures. The flash of light is almost blinding as I feel Lachlan’s hand at the small of my back, urging me to move along.

When we are in the building, I look at Lachlan and he doesn’t seem fazed by the bizarre incident at all. “That was strange. What do you think that was all about?”

“I’m sure it was a photographer assigned to cover opening night.”

“The newspaper should teach their staff to be courteous when photographing patrons. That was rude. And ridiculous. He acted like he had to snap as many pictures as possible before you punched him out—like a paparazzi going after a celebrity.”

“We should probably find our seats so I can speak with Mr. Brees, if he’s here.”

In our private balcony section, we’re on the second of two rows. Lachlan leans over once we’re seated and whispers, “That’s not Mr. Brees sitting in front of us. You want to leave?”

Is he serious? “No. We’re here. We’re dressed up. Let’s act like we know something about opera.”

“Oh, I know all about opera. I’m just not a fan. My mother loves it, so I grew up hearing it. Madama Butterfly is her favorite, so I know it inside and out. We can blow this off and go do something else if you want.”

“No. I want to stay, especially since I didn’t know I was with an opera expert. You can explain it to me.”

He laughs. “Awesome. That’s just what I wanted to do.”

The curtain goes up, and after just a few moments, I’m lost. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Okay. It’s 1904 and the man, Pinkerton, is a US Naval officer. He’s about to marry a fifteen-year-old Japanese girl they call Butterfly, but he knows he’s going to divorce her when he finds a proper American wife.”

“Well, that’s pretty shitty.”

“Don’t blame me. I didn’t write it. Anyway, Butterfly loves Pinkerton so much, she converts from her Japanese religion to Christianity. Her uncle finds out she converted and comes to the house where they are being wed. He shows his ass, curses Butterfly, and renounces her. The end of this act is them preparing for their wedding night.”

“So this is like bow-chicka-wow-wow, only opera style?”

He starts laughing and earns several shushes from the row of people in front of us. He leans closer and I feel a warm rush of breath against my ear as he whispers. “No, Madama Butterfly isn’t bow-chicka-wow-wow by any means, but I’ll sure show you some when we get back to the hotel.”

His promise sends a flood of need between my legs and I become restless in my seat. Lachlan watches me and smiles. “Everything okay over there?”

“I’m good.”

“Are you really not wearing panties?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” There was no way I was ruining this great dress with a panty line.

He’s trying to read my face, but he can’t tell. He pulls the stole from around my shoulders and spreads it across my lap. “I think your legs are cold.”

No, sir, I’m anything but cold right now.

“My hand is cold too. I need you to warm it up,” he whispers as he slides it under the fabric across my thighs.

No way. He is not about to do that here … oh, oh, yes, he is.

I feel his fingers spidering between my legs, scaling up my thighs to where I ache for his touch. “Hmm, someone isn’t wearing panties. Shameless.”

I shift back in my seat and he strokes his fingers up and down, spreading the moisture from my center. “I love how you are always so wet.”

Lucky for me, it’s dark inside the theatre, but I still glance around to make sure no one is watching us. With what he’s doing, I’m not sure I’d care if they were.

His fingers are frustrating, but amazing. I want to buck hard and ride his hand until I come into a million shards, but I can’t without drawing attention. It’s slow torture. “I’m going to give you more, but you have to behave yourself. Can you do that for me?”

I can’t answer so I nod to show my compliance and then I feel his fingers start to slide. In. Out. In. Out. I almost lose it, right then and there, but I hold it together by biting my bottom lip. His fingers speed and I feel it building. It’s coming. And so am I as Butterfly prepares for her wedding night.

I
’ve never enjoyed
opera so much in my life.

Laurelyn and I leave the theatre a few moments before the curtain closes. She doesn’t want to face the couple sitting in front of us on the balcony. She’s pretty certain they heard her muffled squeal and knew exactly what was going on. I’m pretty sure she’s right.

We walk across the parking lot hand in hand and another photographer steps in front of us to take more pictures. Laurelyn puts her hand up. “I’m sorry, but there are plenty of other people for you to photograph. Find someone else.”

The photographer lowers his camera to look at Laurelyn. I think she amuses him. “It’s okay. I already have what I need.”

She really has no idea who I am.

When we’re in my car, I take my phone from my pocket to turn it back on and see almost a dozen missed calls from Mum, Evan, and Chloe. “Something’s going on because my family has been blowing up my phone for the past two hours.”

I call Mum first and don’t get an answer, so I try Evan next. He doesn’t even say hello when he answers. “Jack, it’s Dad. He’s been taken to the hospital. We don’t know anything for sure yet, but he could be having a heart attack.”

“What happened?”

“Mum said they were at home and he started complaining of chest pain. She tried to get him to go to the hospital, but you know Dad. He wanted to see if it would pass, but it got worse so she called an ambulance. They took him back about thirty minutes ago and said they’d give us an update when they know more. Where are you?”

“I’m in Sydney.”

“Good. We’re at St. Vincent’s. How long will it take you to get here?”

“Not long.”

“Okay. I’ll come down and meet you in the lobby.”

I end my call with my brother and I’m numb. This is my indestructible dad he’s talking about. He just retired so he could finally spend time with Mum. They were going to travel the world together.

“What’s happened?”

“It’s my dad. He’s been taken to the hospital. My brother says he might be having a heart attack.”

Laurelyn reaches for my hand. “Oh, I’m sorry, Lachlan. Will it take you long to get to him?”

“No. He’s at St. Vincent’s here in Sydney. It isn’t far.”

She grabs my hand and kisses it. “You need to go. Now. I’ll take a taxi back to the hotel.”

She pulls the handle on the door to get out and that’s when I realize I don’t want her to go. I need her, so I touch my hand to her arm. “Don’t leave. I want you to be with me.”

“You’ll have your family.”

I swallow before I say the words that will change this relationship forever. “You’re the one I need.”

“But that would mean meeting your family.”

It does, and I’m okay with that if it means she’s by my side. “I don’t care. I need you to be with me.”

She smiles and cradles my face with her hands. “Of course. I’ll come if it’s what you want, but this is going to change everything.”

“I know, but it’s what I want.”

I
race
toward the hospital and we’re there in five minutes. We enter the lobby and I see Evan waiting for us by the elevators. “Any news?”

He takes a look at Laurelyn. I know he’s putting it all together and remembering the photographs, but now isn’t the time to tell him to stop picturing her naked. “I walked down right after I talked to you, so I don’t know.”

“Do they know if it’s a bad one?”

“No. It could be something else, but the tests they’re doing now will tell us how extensive the damage is if it’s a heart attack. When he comes out, he might have to be in the intensive care unit.”

Shit, that doesn’t sound good.

Laurelyn squeezes my hand. “I know intensive care sounds scary, but I think being monitored there after a heart attack would be standard care, regardless of the severity.”

This is why I need her here. She’s my anchor. She calms me.

“This is my brother, Evan.” Who better not be picturing you naked right now.

“Laurelyn, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard some great things about you from my brother.” Evan keeps it tame, but I’m positive he would jack with me if he were meeting her under other circumstances.

We follow him onto the elevator and then he ushers us to where the rest of the family is waiting. My mum is out of her seat the second she sees us and has me in her arms. “I thought we’d never get you, Jack Henry.”

“I’m sorry. My phone was off because Laurelyn and I were at the Opera House.”

My mum lets me go and gives her full attention to the girl by my side. This is it. This is where it’s all going to change. She’s going to know my name. “Laurelyn, this is my mother, Margaret McLachlan.”

I don’t know if it’s the circumstances with my dad or the end of her wait to meet the woman she perceives as my girlfriend, but my mother pulls Laurelyn into a tight embrace. I almost think she’s going to cry, but she keeps it together. “I wasn’t sure I would ever get to meet you. Jack Henry has promised me more than once he would bring you to the house, but something always comes up. I was beginning to wonder if you existed, but I see now that you do, and you’re even more beautiful than the pictures he showed me.”

And there it is. She knows I’m Jack Henry McLachlan and from the look on her face, it doesn’t mean jack shit to her. I want to burst out laughing. All of this secrecy about who I am has been for nothing.

“Thank you. It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. McLachlan. Jack Henry has told me wonderful things about you.”

Oh, hell! Laurelyn doesn’t know that my mum is the only person on earth who calls me Jack Henry. I see Mum’s face and know the shit just got real. “You call him Jack Henry?”

Laurelyn is unaware of this blunder. “Yes, ma’am.”

My mum takes Laurelyn’s face in her hands and leans forward to whisper something in her ear. God, help me. She’s so determined to marry me off, there’s no telling what she told her. She may have proposed marriage for me.

Mum recovers from meeting the woman she thinks is her potential daughter-in-law and we join the rest of the family in the waiting room. I introduce Laurelyn to Chloe, and then Emma and the girls. It’s an awkward introduction for her to meet my family for the first time under these circumstances, but she handles it well.

We’re all antsy because it’s been almost two hours since my dad went back, but his doctor finally comes out with an update. “Are you Henry McLachlan’s family?”

My mum is the one to answer. “Yes. I’m his wife.”

“Mr. McLachlan is doing well. It wasn’t a heart attack as we suspected, but he had two very significant blockages. One was ninety percent blocked, the other about ninety-five. That’s where the pain was coming from. We’ve stented both of them and I expect him to make a full recovery. We’ll watch him overnight and he should be able to go home tomorrow.”

My mum holds her head with her hand, her face flooded with relief. “Thank you so much. When can we see him?”

“He should be coming out of recovery any minute. He’s going to a step-down cardiac unit instead of the intensive care. His nurse will come for you when he’s settled into a room.”

I see Evan huddled with his wife and children while Mum and Chloe are hugging, and I know bringing Laurelyn with me was the right decision, even if my dad’s condition ended up being less than life-threatening.

She hugs me and our foreheads touch. “Your dad is going to be fine.” She smiles as she adds, “Jack Henry.”

I whisper so my family can’t hear. “It’s weird hearing it come out of your mouth.”

“It feels weird to say it.” And that’s the end of our name conversation. This isn’t the time or place to discuss it.

We don’t wait long until the nurse comes for us. “I can take five of you, but children aren’t allowed.”

Emma’s holding Mila and looks up at Evan. “He’s your dad. You go and I’ll stay with them.”

Laurelyn peers up at me. “I don’t know your father. Emma should go.” She turns to my sister-in-law. “I can stay with the girls, if you don’t mind leaving them with me.”

I see the relief on Emma’s face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Laurelyn takes a slumbering Mila from Emma and carries her over to where Celia is sleeping in a chair. “Don’t worry. We’ll be just fine.”

We enter Henry McLachlan’s hospital room in a cluster. None of us say it, but it’s frightening to see this strong man so frail and weak. He’s pale against the white hospital sheets—almost white on white.

He hears us enter and opens his eyes. He looks groggy. I’m sure it’s the anesthetic wearing off.

He looks at my mum first. That’s the way it’s always been between them. She’s always his number one.

And that’s what my mum wants me to have. My very own number one.

She sits in the chair at his bedside while we observe as spectators. My dad reaches for her hand and she places it inside his. “I should have listened to you, Margaret.”

“I’ve been saying that for years, Henry.”

The dismal mood in the room is lifted by my mum’s humor. She speaks her mind. I get that from her, but she also has a gift for easing the discomfort and tension of those around her.

“Henry, I might ought to thank you for trying to die because you’ll never guess who Jack Henry brought to the hospital with him.”

“Well, love, judging by the happiness on your face, it can only be the woman he’s been dating.”

“Yes, and she’s lovely. Just beautiful. And she calls him Jack Henry.”

The whole family stares at me because they missed that conversation between Laurelyn and Mum. “What? It’s not a big deal.”

As always, my sister is the first to argue. “You’re full of it. That’s a huge deal.”

I needed to change the subject, and fast. “We’re not here about Laurelyn and me. We’re here for Dad.”

Visiting hours end and my dad’s nurse assures us his condition is good. She convinces us it would be best for everyone, including my mum, to go home for the night. The waiting room doesn’t make for a good night’s rest.

I’m the first one in the waiting room with Mum not far behind. Laurelyn has Celia tucked under her arm like a mother hen and baby Mila draped over her shoulder, sucking her thumb as she looks around.

Her soft voice carries across the waiting room and I hear her singing Brahms’ lullaby. “’Close your eyes … Now and rest … May these hours be blessed.’”

My mum stands beside me listening to Laurelyn sing to my brother’s ankle-biters. “Jack Henry, she’s a special one.”

She doesn’t have to tell me things I already know. “That she is,” I sigh.

She bumps her shoulder into mine. “And you’ve been a little shit for not bringing her to meet me.”

I’m amused, but not surprised by Margaret McLachlan’s choice of words. She’s the only mother I know who will tell her thirty-year-old son he is a little shit. If the circumstances were as she believes, she’d be right. Because I can’t tell her differently, I have no defense, so I don’t argue. “I guess I have been.”

“Where are you staying?”

Where is she going with this? “The Marx.”

She sighs. “Go get your things. I want you and Laurelyn to stay at the house.”

Now I see. She’s so transparent. “The Marx is much closer to the hospital.”

She takes that tone with me. That motherly do as I say tone. “We’ve just had a very close call with your father. The family should be together.”

Maybe she does want the family together, but that isn’t what this is about. “You want Laurelyn at your house so you can have access to her.”

“You haven’t dated anyone in years. Is it wrong for me to want to spend time with her?”

It’s unnecessary for her to get to know Laurelyn—she’s leaving in a month. “There’s nothing wrong as long as you don’t have far-fetched ideas about us. She’s only here for four more weeks.”

“That’s not written in stone, is it?”

Geez, this woman is bound and determined. “No, but it’s written on her airline ticket.”

She huffs. “I swear, McLachlan men don’t have a romantic or creative bone in their bodies.”

I hate that my mum has the wrong impression. “It’s not what you think it is between us. Laurelyn and I knew we’d only have three months together when we started seeing each other. We agreed to date for fun, not for love.”

“But the heart wants what the heart wants.”

“And yours wants another daughter-in-law and mother for more grandchildren.”

“My heart wants you to be happy, and I believe that girl is the one to do it. You have four weeks to convince her to stay.” She lifts her brows at me. “I suggest you get on that right away, son.”

W
e’re driving
to my parents’ house after we get our things from the hotel and I remember my mum whispering something to Laurelyn. “What did my mum tell you at the hospital?”

“Oh, do you mean after the incident where I freaked her out by calling you Jack Henry?” She reaches over and frogs my bicep with her knuckle. Damn, it sort of hurt. “Thanks for the heads-up, by the way. Not.”

“Forgive me. I was a little preoccupied with the uncertainty of my dad’s survival. What did she say?”

“What she told me is our little secret, not for you to know.”

Great. My mum and the woman I’m having an affair with are sharing secrets behind my back. That’s not awkward at all.

Now, I’m more curious than ever. “Tell me. I want to know.”

“No. She would have told you if she wanted you to know.”

“She thinks we’re in love. Or at least have the potential to be.” I throw the words out like bait on a hook to see if I can get a nibble.

“You think so?” Dammit. I can’t tell by her tone if she’s asking my opinion or if she’s being facetious.

She isn’t budging, but I have my ways. I might not get what I want out of her by asking, but I have other methods of making this little bird sing.