‘They call it tartan,’ Grant told her.
The website’s header was a blue and green plaid, with thin lines of red criss-crossing through the squares. ‘Do you have to wear that?’ Jenn asked him. ‘I can’t imagine you in a kilt.’
‘I’ve worn one before,’ Lachlan said mildly.
Jenn grinned. ‘When? And why haven’t I seen any pictures?’
‘I was a kid. And all the evidence is destroyed.’ Lachlan smiled back at her. ‘Sorry to rain on your parade.’
‘You’re not raining on anything. You’re making my day. Lachlan MacLeish in a skirt. It’s too good.’
‘I’m glad it amuses you.’
Jenn didn’t reply, she was too busy scrolling through the phone. ‘Oh boy, there’s so much information here. Babe,’ she said, turning to Grant, ‘did you know that Lachlan comes from a long line of MacLeishes, stretching back to at least 1638?’
Grant gently took the phone from her. ‘No phones at the table, remember?’ He slid the phone back in his pocket, then looked at her from the corner of his eye, as though he was expecting reprisals.
Lachlan smirked. ‘The hunter hunted.’
‘And just for that,’ Jenn told him, folding her arms across her chest, ‘you can both clear the table. And I don’t care if you’re the king of Scotland, make sure you put everything away.’
‘Is Jenn okay?’ Lachlan frowned. She’d finished clearing up the kitchen, shooing away any offers of help, and then told them she needed an early night. Grant had grabbed the two of them a beer, suggesting they climb up to the rooftop garden, the one overlooking the city. ‘She didn’t eat much. Didn’t say much either, after dinner. Did we make her mad with the phone thing?’
Grant shrugged, leaning back on his wooden chair. He had his feet up on the table, ankles crossed, a beer bottle resting in his hands. ‘She’s just exhausted. She’s been in bed by seven most evenings.’
Lachlan frowned. ‘Is she sick? Can I help? You know you’re both fully covered, right? And I’ll pay any deductibles.’
Grant grinned. ‘We might have to take you up on that. But not for a few months. Did you notice Jenn was only touching the veggie sushi? She can’t have raw fish.’
Lachlan twisted on his chair, the frown still playing around his lips. ‘Why not?’
‘She can’t drink alcohol, either, for that matter.’
A slow sense of unease tugged at Lachlan’s stomach. It combined with the realisation dawning in his mind, making him feel off-kilter, like a ship lurching in the sea. ‘She’s pregnant?’
‘As a metrosexual, supportive husband, I guess the right way to say it is “we’re pregnant”.’
‘Well, that would be a minor fucking miracle.’ Lachlan rolled his lip between his teeth, staring out into the inky black night, his eyes caught by the dots of lights peppering the tower blocks across the city. ‘Congratulations, man.’
‘Say it like you mean it.’ Grant laughed.
Lachlan took another mouthful of beer, the cool liquid snaking down his throat. ‘I do mean it. That’s great, you’re gonna be a dad. Jeez, that sounds so grown up.’
‘We are grown-ups. Have been for a while,’ Grant pointed out. ‘We do our own laundry, cook our own meals. Well, I do at least. You pay someone to do that for you, but that’s grown up, too, right?’
Lachlan said nothing for a moment, staring out into the distance. Is this what Peter Pan felt like, watching all his friends grow up around him? ‘Being a father takes it to a whole new level, though,’ he finally said. ‘You’re responsible for somebody else, for the rest of your life. Things will never be the same again.’
‘You’re making it sound like a life sentence.’
Lachlan sighed, mentally kicking himself. ‘I didn’t mean to make it sound bad. It’s just… different, you know? Yeah, I run a business, and I have an apartment. But those things don’t feel like a burden. I could walk out and leave it all behind at any time. You can’t do that to a kid.’
Except you could. He knew that from personal experience.
‘You couldn’t walk away from the business even if you wanted to,’ Grant pointed out. ‘You have employees to take care of. They have homes, bills, medical issues. You’re just as tied up as anybody else, even if you choose not to believe it. And anyway, having a kid isn’t a burden, not to me. Not with the right woman.’
Lachlan sat up, turning to face Grant. ‘Hey, you’re right. You and Jenn are going to be fantastic parents. Every kid must be jostling to be the one ending up here. Hell, we can even set a nursery up at the office if you like. That’s assuming Jenn’s planning on going back to work.’
‘Yeah, about that…’ Grant trailed off. The smile disappeared, as he failed to meet Lachlan’s stare. ‘I, ah, don’t know what we’ll be doing for childcare.’