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“Why would I be mad? Caelan is the master of his own destiny.” Sad, yes. A little mad? Maybe. But not in the way he was insinuating. I wasn’t some simpering, needy little woman.
His gaze nearly turned feral as he angrily slurped tea that was still too hot to be guzzled.
“You took him away from us,” he accused.
I shook my head slowly. “Don’t be such a princess, Eric.”
He ground his teeth together and that jaw of his which could probably cut diamond suddenly appeared even more angular, the tendons in his neck jumping to attention, too.
I smirked while preparing to cut him down. “I don’t know what this dance between you of all these years has entailed, but you need to move on, Eric. That’s all I know. I am not some siren who stole your best mate. He left that life willingly. Ages ago. Before I even came along. So us marrying merely drew a firm line underneath what was already done with.”
Eric had some scrapes of a few days’ old on his hands which I studied as he lifted the cup to his lips once more. It occurred to me that Eric might have intentionally placed himself in a tricky situation in the hope that Caelan would come and rescue him.
Eric chuckled, shook his head, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “You don’t even know who he is.”
“No,” I said, vehement. “I do. I know who heisand I don’t care who hewas. I know who heisnow.”
He inhaled deeply. “Well, fuck knows when he’ll be back. They’re all over the place out there. He’ll see that things need to be done and he won’t be able to stop himself. To him all that chaos is like a big sweet shop and he won’t be able to resist the shiny wrappers of all that needs doing out there.”
“Maybe he’s what they need,” I retorted.
Realising I was no safer here than in London, a plan began to form. I’d head back home and get on with my life. Maybe Logan could come to work with me and I would stop at intervals to feed him. I wasn’t going to stop living my life because of these idiots.
“Caelan will never stop being who he is,” warned Eric. “It’s ingrained. He’s not meant for domestic bliss.”
My face turned red with fury and I had to hold my tongue despite the rapid-fire expletives threatening to break free.
The first strains of Logan waking filled the house and Eric ground his teeth again.
“That’s my cue to leave, is it?” He pushed his tongue into his cheek, the arrogant prick.
“I’d thank you kindly to never darken my door again.”
He pulled his bottom lip inside his mouth, then bit it to stop himself saying whatever it was he had on his mind.
“I shall show myself out.”
I said nothing, but when he’d gone, I bolted that door.
Bastard.
Morag cooked dinner for me in our kitchen that night while I dealt with Logan’s nightly routine. Meanwhile Harold sat in Caelan’s wingback downstairs, petting and telling the dog off.
Harold had seen Eric’s Jeep leave the property earlier but when he’d asked what he was doing here, I said it was to tell me that Caelan had got caught up with something but he would be home soon. The look on Harold’s face told me he knew there was more to it. Then when Morag had shown up to cook dinner, silently getting on with it, I was fairly convinced that neither believed me to be all right about everything going on.
When the baby was finally abed and we all sat around the table for haggis, tatties and neeps, plus the most delicious red onion gravy known to man, that’s when I saw in their faces they were preparing to make their feelings known.
“Can he no tell ye himself?” said Morag out of nowhere, in a sharp tone.
I was angry with him, too. I’d known beforehand he wouldn’t be allowed to take a phone with him into a country he wasn’t supposed to be in, but surely, they were still allowed to make some calls out of Ukraine? Unless your name was Caelan Cameron, of course and your very existence in such a place might trigger all-out war.
“I’m going to have to get on with my life, aren’t I?” I said in a forthright manner. “Because he’s getting on with his.”
It’d only been two weeks, but that was a long time without one word. I had to continually push down those horrid thoughts, such as, “He doesn’t care, he’s forgotten me,” or, “He cares about them more than me.”
I had to remind myself he was there tohelppeople and that was important to him, and to me. His work certainly didn’t lessen his love for me and the baby at all.
“I dinna think ye should return to London, lass,” said Harold. “He would want us to look after you and the wee ’un.”
