He tipped his head to the side. ‘How do I look when I’m in Scotland?’ he asked.
‘Cold,’ she said, trying to bite down a laugh.
‘You’re the one who gets cold,’ he pointed out. ‘Remember how you practically begged me to take you to my room? “Oh, Lachlan, I need your body heat.”’ His voice went up an octave, as he attempted a particularly bad impression of her.
She played with her lip between her teeth, studying him. ‘You’re the king of bullshit,’ she said, kicking him lightly in the side. ‘You’ve completely rewritten history. I was happy to freeze in my bed, you’re the one who carried me into your room.’
‘But you liked it.’
Yeah, she did. Even back then, when there was little more between them than a professional relationship, she’d felt drawn to him. As though there was an invisible cord between them, pulling them together. And now it felt stronger, more like iron than cotton. Unbreakable.
‘You two should really get a room,’ Jenn said, blocking out the sun with her hand over her eyes. ‘All this dopamine is making me feel crazy. It’s not fair to old married couples like us.’
‘We have a room,’ Lachlan said, his eyes never leaving Lucy’s. ‘In fact, we have two hundred.’
‘Well, could you use one of them?’ Jenn asked. ‘I love you guys, I really do, but this baby is precious.’ She rubbed her dome-like stomach. ‘I feel like I’m exposing him to porn.’
Lucy burst out laughing. The thought of climbing into the soft, cosy bed in their air-conditioned room really did sound attractive right then. But with Lachlan around, everything sounded attractive.
‘Are you going to be like that when we have kids?’ Lachlan asked. The words had barely escaped his lips when Jenn threw one of her sandals at him. She had a surprisingly good aim. Lachlan had to dodge to the side to avoid the flying shoe, catching it in his right hand before it sailed into the swimming pool.
But Lucy didn’t pay attention to any of that. She was too busy thinking about his words. When we have kids. They should scare her to death, make her want to run far far away. But instead she was lying there, her legs stretched out across the lap of the suited man in front of her, the man she’d come to realise she was falling crazy in love with.
Was it possible to have it all? For the first time, she really thought it might be.
This care home wasn’t so different from the one her father lived in, though the buildings were more suitable to the Floridian surroundings than a damp, grey London suburb. It had a different name, too – Assisted Living – where the emphasis was put on what the residents could do, rather than the round-the-clock medical care they also offered. Still, the staff wore uniforms, and as soon as they signed in at the desk they escorted them both to the air-conditioned day room, where Lachlan’s mother was sitting overlooking the gardens. It was filled with towering palm trees and flowering azaleas surrounding a sparkling blue lake. As they walked over to join her, Lucy was taken by the atmosphere in the room. People were laughing, playing chess and listening to music; there was a sense of life here that didn’t seem to exist in her father’s home. Maybe you really did get what you paid for.
Lachlan’s mother looked nothing like Lucy had expected. For a woman suffering from a chronic illness, she seemed remarkably alert, her hair perfectly arranged into a French knot, her make-up artfully applied to highlight her cheekbones and vivid blue eyes. Just like her son’s. Even the oxygen tank next to her, and the tubes looped around her face couldn’t disguise the beauty she’d once been.
‘You must be Lucy.’ She reached her hand up, taking Lucy’s and shaking it. Her voice was hoarse. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs —’ Oh God, what on earth should she call her? She’d never been a MacLeish after all, even if that was the name she’d given her son. And Lucy hadn’t thought to ask Lachlan what his mom’s surname was.
‘Please call me Lori.’ She gestured at the seats opposite. ‘Do sit down. Would either of you like a drink?’
Her accent sounded nothing like Lucy had expected, either. Her words were perfectly pronounced. If she closed her eyes, they could be sitting outside on the veranda of an old plantation house, drinking iced tea and gossiping about the local goings-on.
After their drinks arrived – waiter service, no less – Lucy found herself drinking the cool water and looking between mother and son. Though they had the same eyes, there was very little about Lachlan that spoke of his mother. He’d inherited most of his dark looks from the MacLeish side of the family.
As Lori gave them the run-down on her current condition, explaining the tests she’d had earlier in the week, Lucy watched the two of them interact, Lachlan’s expression soft, his voice gentle, and she found herself falling for him a little bit more.
There was something very sexy about a man who took care of his mother. Maybe it was the hope he’d take care of her, too. Or maybe it was just seeing yet another side to him that warmed her. Her chameleon man with many faces.
‘Lachlan tells me you’re a lawyer,’ Lori said, turning to her.
‘That’s right,’ Lucy said, placing her glass down on the table beside her. ‘I work for a small firm in Edinburgh.’ She noticed her fingers were shaking as she released her glass. What the hell was wrong with her?
‘Do you enjoy it?’
She nodded. ‘I do, for the most part. It’s hard work, but what good job isn’t? Plus I studied a long time to get where I am, so I’m trying to enjoy it.’
‘Do you think you’ll always live in Scotland?’ his mother asked. Lucy looked up at Lachlan, alarmed. She could see he was biting back a smile.
‘Mom,’ Lachlan said, as though he’d let Lucy suffer for long enough, ‘what kind of question is that?’
His mother shrugged, her shoulders thin beneath the silk fabric of her blouse. ‘I’m just interested. You’re not getting any younger, Lachlan. I want to know if you intend to settle down over here or over there.’
It was his turn to look uncomfortable. Lucy probably would have enjoyed his awkwardness more if she didn’t feel the same way herself. When was the last time she’d been taken home to meet the parents? She could barely remember.