“I owe you an apology,” he says finally. “For last night. For... well, for being a right bastard.”
Despite everything, his blunt honesty almost tugs a smile out of me. “Go on.”
“You were right. About all of it.” The words seem to cost him. “I wasn’t protecting Finn. I was protecting myself. Because talking about Leanne, remembering her properly... it hurts.”
Down by the water, Finn flings the stick and Gus plunges into the shallows after it, splashing so wildly that Finn erupts in delighted laughter.
Lachlan’s jaw works. “It was gallstones. She’d had pain after meals for months but kept brushing it off. Said it was just stress, or eating too fast with Finn underfoot.” He shakes his head. “By the time she finally went in, the doctor said the gallbladder had to come out. Laparoscopic, nothing major. Might even be home the same day, he said.”
I can guess how this story ends, but I let him tell it.
“There was a complication during surgery. Rare. One in thousands. Her heart just... stopped.” His gaze fixes on the horizon. “We had our lives mapped out. And then...” His voice cracks.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
“Her parents passed away before Finn was born, so there’s no one else to tell him about her. That’s on me. And you’re right, he needs to know who she was. He deserves those stories.”
Gus bounds back up the beach, stick clenched triumphantly in his mouth. Lachlan takes it from him. “You’re playing with Finn, you daft mutt, not me.” He hurls the stick down to the shore, and Gus tears after it, back to Finn.
Lachlan turns back to me. “I know I haven’t been... easy to work with. But Blair, what you’ve done for Finn already... he’s different. Happier. I’d like you to stay on, if you’re willing. And I promise I’ll try to do better.”
I cross my arms, buying myself a second. Don’t want to make it too easy for him. “I’ll be honest. Last night and this morning, I was pretty close to packing it in.”
Something flickers across his face. Fear, maybe.
“But,” I add, “I accept your apology. And I’ll stay.” I glance toward Finn and Gus. “Besides, Finn’s wormed his way into my heart. Gus too, surprisingly. And I suppose you’re not so bad either.”
I give him a cheeky smile, and after a moment, he smiles back. Really smiles, not the stiff version he usually manages.
The sea breeze lifts his hair, and his green eyes catch the golden light reflecting off the water. When he’s not scowling or looking like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, Lachlan Munro is downright breathtaking.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LACHLAN
The air is thick with sweat and the quiet thud of bass from my Bluetooth speaker. I lower the barbell onto the squat rack, legs burning from the last set, and wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. This is what I need. The sting of exertion, the ache building in my shoulders, the blessed simplicity of weight and resistance and nothing else.
No complicated emotions, no awkward conversations, no thoughts of?—
“Oh! Sorry. I’ll, um, come back another time.”
Bloody hell.
Blair stands in the doorway, water bottle in hand, black leggings painted on, fitted sports top hugging every slim curve. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail. She’s ready to work, to sweat, and the sight knocks the breath clean out of me.
“You don’t have to go,” I manage, reaching for my own water bottle to buy myself a moment. “I said you could use the gym.”
What I’d meant waswhen I’m not bloody in it. But I can hardly turf her out now.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to get in your way.”
She’s not even trying to be sexy, but my brain doesn’t give a damn. Those leggings. That top. The way it clings to her flat stomach and small breasts... Christ, look somewhere else.
“It’s fine. Just mind the weights. Some of them are heavier than they look.”
She steps inside, surveying the cramped space. It’s not much. A bench, some dumbbells, squat rack shoved against the wall, a pull-up bar mounted in the doorway. Basic kit for a basic routine. Nothing fancy, just enough to work off the day’s frustrations and keep myself in decent shape.
“Thanks for letting me crash your workout,” she says, setting her water down and reaching for a pair of lighter dumbbells. “I promise I won’t judge your routine too harshly.”
