Absent in the Spring (The Shakespeare Sisters 3)

‘You didn’t have to.’

No he didn’t. He felt it through his entire body, every time he thought about her smile, her voice, the way she would curl into him in the middle of the night. He could almost feel her there now, could almost smell the floral fragrance of her shampoo, hear her soft laughter.

Yes, he was in love with her. In love with Lucy Shakespeare, the most beautiful, funny and aggravating woman he’d ever met. No wonder he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

‘I do love her,’ he whispered, to himself more than his mother.

His mom laughed. ‘Don’t sound so unhappy about it.’

He shook his head, still trying to think straight. ‘I said some messed-up things to her…’

She listened as he told her the whole story, occasionally interrupting to ask him a question. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so honest with his mom, or the last time he’d been this emotional about anything.

‘It doesn’t sound irretrievable,’ she finally said, her hand still squeezing his. ‘It just sounds like you’re both as stubborn as hell. You’ve finally found your match, darling.’

For the first

time he laughed, and it felt good. ‘You’re not wrong. She’s like a wild animal, almost impossible to tame.’

‘I know you, Lachlan. If you want something badly enough, you don’t give up until you have it.’ She licked her lips – the oxygen was always making them dry. ‘You didn’t want your father’s title badly enough, I get that.’ There was still a note of disappointment in her voice. ‘But this girl, if you want her, you’ll have to fight until you get her. You’ve never shied away from a fight before.’

But maybe the stakes had never been so high before, either. He’d lost her once, the thought of losing her for the second time was devastating. There was part of him – the old Lachlan – that wanted to slink off and lick his wounds, to soothe them with meaningless liaisons and his usual workaholism.

But that was the coward’s way out. He’d been doing those things for long enough – for years, according to Jenn – and they’d done nothing but dull the pain.

Lucy was the biggest prize he’d ever fought for and lost. Was he brave enough to throw himself into the ring for a second round?

The hotel bar was half-empty. He’d spent most of the evening catching up with the work he’d missed during his visit to his mom, writing emails and making calls, and asking Grant to rearrange his diary just one more time. Ever stoic, his friend and assistant had patiently moved meetings around and changed some into videoconferences, while muttering to himself that Lachlan had finally lost it.

And maybe he had. But somehow he felt like he was gaining something, too. A peace of mind he’d never felt before.

‘I promise this is the last time,’ Lachlan told Grant down the phone, taking a sip of the ice-cold beer the waitress had slid onto the table.

‘I’ll believe that when I see it,’ Grant said, his voice warm with humour. ‘Anyway, I can get you on the red eye into Heathrow on Monday night. That will give you enough time to meet with your British investors before taking the train up to Edinburgh. Does that work?’

‘Yeah, sure.’

‘When do you want to fly back? Should I book it to New York?’

Lachlan didn’t have an answer to that one. The fact was, it all depended on her. On whether she’d give him the time of day, or whether she’d had enough of him already. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. Some of the condensation from his cold beer glass had dripped on to the wooden table. He reached out with his finger, tracing patterns into the water. ‘I need to visit with Alistair too, bring him up to speed with the situation. Let’s leave it flexible.’

‘Sure.’ Grant still sounded amused.

‘Burger and fries?’ The waitress was smiling when he looked up at her. She slid the plate in front of him,

He breathed in the aroma – meaty and hot. ‘I didn’t order any food.’ It smelled good, though, enough to send a grumble through his stomach.

‘I thought you looked hungry.’ Another woman appeared behind the waitress. One with blonde hair, a heart-shaped face and eyes that kept him awake at night.

‘Lucy?’ He stood, his chair scraping the wooden floor behind him. It took him a moment to become aware he was still holding his cellphone against his ear, Grant’s voice asking him what the heck was going on.

‘You’re going to need to cancel that flight,’ Lachlan said into the mouthpiece, still unable to take his eyes from her. ‘I’ll call you back later.’

Grant didn’t protest at the sudden change in conversational direction. Instead, he said goodbye, hanging up straight away.

The waitress walked away, leaving only Lucy and Lachlan, plus the five feet of space between them. It seemed too much and not enough. His skin felt like it was on fire.

‘You’re here.’