“It’s the only way I kent,” Eva said softly. “Fun always felt like a thing meant for other folk, nae me own kind.”
Connor looked at her then, truly looked, and felt a sharp stab of something close to regret. He leaned back, folding his arms as the board blurred for a moment.
“That’ll change,” he said firmly.
Eva blinked. “Change?”
“Aye,” he said. “I swear it will.”
She tilted her head, curiosity lighting her face. “And how do ye plan to do that, Laird McLaren?”
A slow smile tugged at his mouth, one that felt unfamiliar but welcome. “I’ll start by takin’ ye fishin’.”
Her eyes widened. “Fishin’?”
“The next night,” he said. “When the loch’s quiet and the stars are out.”
Eva laughed, delighted. “Night fishin’?”
“Aye, I find it to be fun,” Connor replied, a challenge in his tone. “Unless ye’re scared of the dark.”
She straightened in her chair. “I am nae scared,” she said promptly. “In fact, that sounds wonderful.”
Connor felt warmth spread through him at her excitement. He watched as she made another move, a bit bolder now, her shoulders relaxed. For the first time, the library felt less like a place of records and burdens and more like a shared space. He wondered when that change had happened.
As they continued, Connor found his thoughts drifting despite himself. Michael’s face surfaced in his mind, as it often did, but this time the ache was dulled. He realized how tightly he had been holding himself apart, guarding old wounds as though they defined him. Eva’s presence did not erase his grief, but it softened its sharpest edges.
“Ye’re smilin’,” Eva said suddenly, eyeing him over the board.
“Am I?” Connor asked.
“Aye,” she replied. “It suits ye.”
He cleared his throat and made a careless move. Eva noticed at once, her brows knitting as she leaned closer. She captured his piece with a small gasp of triumph. Connor watched her reaction and hid his own smile.
“Did I do that right?” she asked.
“Ye did,” he said. “Quite right.”
They played on, the pieces dwindling as the game unfolded. Eva grew more confident, testing moves and watching his reactions. Connor, meanwhile, found himself deliberately easing off, guiding the game without her noticing. It pleased him to see her enjoyment bloom.
“I think I might be winnin’,” Eva said cautiously.
“Do ye now?” Connor replied, feigning concern.
She nodded, then hesitated. “Unless I’ve missed somethin’.”
Connor leaned forward, studying the board with exaggerated seriousness. “Nay, lass,” he said at last. “I think ye’ve got me.”
Her eyes widened again, this time with disbelief. “Truly?”
“Aye,” he said, pushing his king aside. “Well played.”
Eva stared at the board, then at him, laughter bubbling free. “I won?”
“Ye did,” Connor said, warmth flooding his voice.
She clapped a hand over her mouth, half laughing, half stunned. “I cannae believe it.”
