Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Her gorgeous smile was genuine. “Brodan, that’s wonderful news! I’m so excited for you. I think a whisky from you and Lachlan would be a massive hit. You have a hook already for your advertising. It’ll be fantastic.”
“You think so?” A flood of anticipation rushed through me at the thought of running a business I loved—and doing it at home. It would bring more jobs and boost the local economy too.
“Of course I do.” She reached over and squeezed my leg. “Like I said, you can do anything you put your mind to.”
That was what I was banking on.
And not for the distillery.
I was banking on my ability to fill Monroe Sinclair’s life with so many bloody good times, she’d never think of leaving me.
But there was something else we needed to discuss. And this one I wasn’t looking forward to. We talked more about Roe’s week at school, our plans for the weekend, and once we’d finished dinner and were sitting together on the sofa, I broached the subject.
“There’s that third thing I wanted to discuss. Something I need to tell you.”
She turned toward me, our faces inches apart. “You sound serious. Have you decided to open a woolen mill as well as a distillery?”
At her teasing, I tickled her ribs and she squealed, trying to get away. Laughing, I pulled her into my arms. “Quit wriggling.”
“Don’t tickle me, then.” Roe pouted, and I stole a quick kiss because her mouth was right there and that was reason enough. When I pulled back, I brushed her hair off her face, hating that she was about to lose that happy, almost dreamy expression.
“Are you ready to talk about your dad?”
She stiffened in my arms. But she didn’t pull away. Instead, the shadows I hated so much crept into her gray eyes, and she answered quietly, “I do want to find him, Brodan. Maybe … maybe finding his grave … maybe I can still say goodbye. Maybe I can still forgive him. If that’s what he wanted. I have to believe that’s what he wanted.”
Lifting my arse off the couch, I pulled out the piece of paper that had been burning a hole in my back pocket, and I held it out to her. It had the address of a cemetery in Dumfries and Galloway on it. “I found him for you.”
A small gasp escaped her as she took the paper. She devoured the words on it. “What was he doing that far south?”
“I don’t know.”
“Brodan, how did you find him?”
“I have contacts. People who know how to find people.”
Tears pooled in her eyes, but they didn’t spill over as she whispered, “Thank you. Thank you so much.” She threw her arms around me and mine banded around her, holding her to me, almost afraid to let go. I breathed in the scent of the citrus that lingered in her hair from her shampoo. I just … breathed her in, holding her there. Afraid to exhale.
A few hours later, the fire crackled in the fireplace and Roe lay naked, her back to my chest, on the couch. She drew lazy circles on my forearm as I held her, and we listened to the silence only broken by the pop of flames.
Peace unlike anything I remembered settled over me. I’d made love to the woman I loved after a night of conversation about everything and nothing. For the first time in eighteen years, I wasn’t chasing this empty feeling inside. With her in my arms, I felt whole.
“I never imagined I could ever be this happy,” I confessed.
Monroe turned her head, her hair tickling my chest as she looked up at me. “Are you scared, Brodan?”
The fear tightened like a fist around my throat, and I could only nod.
“Me too,” she admitted.
Then she moved in my arms, turning to straddle me. Cupping my nape in her hands, she whispered, “I want to hold on, though. Will you hold on with me?”
In answer, I wrapped my arms around and pulled her close, burying my face in the crook of her neck. I’d hold on for fucking forever now. That’s not what terrified me. What terrified me was what happened if she slipped from my hold or was yanked away from me by forces stronger than my grip?
Fuck.
I took a calming breath, reminding myself that it was that kind of thinking that cost us eighteen years together.
We had to take one day at a time.
One day at a time.
And maybe, I’d eventually settle into the feeling of being genuinely happy for the first time in my life.
33
Monroe
Guilt and shame kicked my arse all the way down the street as I walked to meet Sloane at a café in the neighboring village of Golspie. Although we’d texted, we hadn’t seen each other since the holidays, and we wanted to catch up without the nosy ears and eyes of Ardnoch watching. Plus, Flora’s was always so busy on Saturdays, it made it hard to get a table.