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I cradle her hands between mine. "You are mygràidh, Erica. And I will help you whether you like it or not."
She hesitates, but only for a second. "Okay. I accept your money and your investigators and whatever you give me. I do want to keep Doretta as my lawyer, though."
"Fine."
"Thank you, Lachlan."
Why do I feel relieved that she's agreed to accept my help?
I march around the island to pull her into my arms. With her body nestled against mine, I comb my fingers through her hair and feel all the tension inside me melting away. "Anything for you,mo leannan."
She hugs me like she never wants to let go. "Don't leave me, Lachlan. I love you."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I freeze and stop breathing too, so stunned by her words that I can't think of what to say even if I could speak. My heart is pounding. All because she said the L-word? Christ, I wish she hadn't said that, but I also wish she'd say it again. She shouldn't repeat it. Even if I want to be with her permanently—and I have no ruddy idea how I feel about that—I can't drag her into the disaster my life has become.
Erica lifts her head just enough that she can shake it, her hair flapping around her face. "I-I didn't mean to say that. Forget it. I'm still in shock from all the Presley stuff and I—"
"Hush, Erica," I say in the calmest tone I can marshal, since everything inside me has gone cold, from my skin down to my bones. "I won't hold you to anything you say tonight."
She grabs fistfuls of my shirt and shakes me, anger twisting her bonnie face. "You know what? Forget what I said about forgetting what I said."
"Your bum's oot the windae again."
"No." She raises onto her tiptoes to level our gazes. "I love you, Lachlan. I don't want you to go home unless I can go with you. Stay with me, or take me with you."
The coldness inside me has plunged into the subzero range, and I feel stiff, like icicles have formed all over my body. I struggle to breathe, but I swear there's a massive iron weight crushing my chest. I stare at Erica, though I can't even blink, and my eyes start to burn. My throat has constricted, and my mouth has gone dry.
Finally, my lids slide closed. At least now I don't have to see the look on her face—anger and pain mixed with a deeper, more intense emotion than I've ever witnessed from anyone.
She cannae love me.
My shoulders collapse. My jaw goes slack, and I stumble backward with my arms raised partway, as if I can steady myself that way, but I can't. I retreat so abruptly that Erica loses her balance and careens into the island.
I hoist my head up, though it seems to weigh ten times more than it should, and I look at Erica. Her anguish shows on her face, which stabs a pang into my heart. I take a tentative step toward her, reaching out, but then let my hand fall before I've even grazed her skin. My arms hang limp at my sides. "I'm sorry, Erica. I can't stay with you."
Speaking those words breaks something deep inside me, but for her sake, I have to do this.
Erica shoves away from the island and rolls her shoulders back, chin lifted, though her eyes shimmer with burgeoning tears. "Yes, you can. If you want to."
I swallow, trying to get rid of this lump in my throat, but it won't budge.
She rubs her palms on her jeans as if she's got something on them, then she crosses her arms only to uncross them half a second later. "Do you want to stay with me?"
I shift my weight from one foot to the other and back again, almost rocking in place, and rub the back of my neck.Tell her yes, a part of me commands. That voice is too small and weak to hold any sway. All I can hear in my mind is Aisley's voice telling me what a bloody awful husband I was to her.
You're a worthless coward, Lachlan, and sex with you was like shagging a sloth. Go on, run back to your precious Ballachulish. You won't find another woman who will put up with you.
Aye, Aisley had spoken those words two days before I left her. What if I stay with Erica and after a few weeks or months she realizes she can't stand me either?
"Well?" Erica demands. "Do you want to be with me? Do you love me?"
What I feel doesn't matter. I've ceased my restless movements, and I swivel my gaze toward her. I hardly recognize my voice when I speak. It's rough and unsteady. "I cannae stay."
"Yes. You. Can."
"Aye." I drop my chin to my chest, locking both hands behind my head. "I owe you no explanations, just as you owed me none."
