Shame filled him, making him furious. “I think you better get out.”
“Robyn didn’t die, Lachlan,” Mac said angrily instead. “She’s living and breathing and here … and so what if she had to be the one to rescue you both? All that matters is you both survived.”
“I don’t care that she saved us. I’m grateful she could.”
“But you wish it had been you. That you could prove to her that you are capable of protecting her.”
He looked away sharply, his cheeks hot with anger and embarrassment.
“She doesn’t need you to protect her, man. She just needs to know that you care enough to want to.”
Mac’s words pierced through his pride, reminding him of the night in the gym when Robyn accused him of abandoning her when she needed him.
“Fuck,” he hissed.
“Lachlan.”
Something in Mac’s voice drew his gaze, and he tensed at his friend’s grim expression.
“She’s leaving,” Mac said, sadness darkening his eyes. “Her flights are booked. She leaves for the States tomorrow morning.”
His panic was immediate and physically painful.
His chair rolled back into the wall as he stood abruptly. “Where is she now?”
Something like hope brightened Mac’s face. “At the beach near the caravan site.”
* * *
Heart pounding, Lachlan pulled his SUV to a stop beside the new one he’d provided after the other was totaled when Fergus ran her off the road.
That nightmare was over now, though.
And he needed to pull his head out of his arse.
Lachlan climbed from the car and kicked off his dress shoes and socks, placing them back inside. Rolling his trousers at the ankle, he strode down the dunes, letting the sand slide him down the slope and onto the beach. The golden stretch was a honey-wheat color from the rain that had fallen through the night. Compact and hard beneath his bare feet, the coolness of it felt good. Calmed him, even.
Looking left, he saw a few people in the distance with a dog bounding between them.
Turning right, he saw a couple not too far up the beach, and beyond them …
His heart slowed.
Robyn crouched near the shore with her camera to her face.
Lachlan walked down to the shoreline and let the chilled tide reach his ankles, circling like icy fingers before they were pulled back into the water. The sensation moved up his body, causing goose bumps across his skin.
It was so invigorating, his mind cleared.
Sticking to the shore, he let the water sweep around his feet every time it rushed in, and he thought on what he would say to Robyn when he reached her. Lachlan still wasn’t sure he deserved her, but she deserved to know his true feelings.
As he closed in, her profile came into sharp focus, and his emotions expanded like a physical thing through his chest. No woman was as beautiful to him as Robyn Penhaligon.
And the thought of losing her—
Fuck, it literally took his breath away.
Lachlan inhaled a gulp of fresh air, trying to quell his rising panic.
He watched as she stood, stretching those long legs as she lowered her camera so it hung heavily around her neck from its strap. She stared out at the water, lost in thought. The light breeze flicked at her ponytail while loose strands danced around her cheeks.
Every morning.
Every morning he wanted this woman’s face to be the first thing he saw upon waking.
Sensing a presence, Robyn looked sharply toward him. A wary expression tightened her features, and he hated himself for making her feel that way about him. “What are you doing here?” she asked. He loved her voice. Low, mellifluous, with a slight rasp to it.
He couldn’t imagine not hearing her voice every day.
For a moment as he stopped before her, Lachlan just looked, enjoyed memorizing every piece of her in case he didn’t see her for a while. The only sounds between them were the lap of the water, the gulls above them in the sky.
Finally Robyn spoke again. “Mac told you I’m leaving.”
He nodded.
“I wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye,” she promised.
He knew that. She was too honest, too honorable to just walk away without a word. Not that he deserved it. “I stayed away too long. I’m sorry.”
Robyn looked away with a shrug. “I get it.”
“I don’t want you to get it. I shouldn’t have stayed away.” He took a step toward her and that not only brought her attention back to him but she retreated.
Fuck.
“Braveheart,” he said hoarsely, “I am so fucking sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. It isn’t your fault.”
“Not about that. Yes, about that … but I mean …” He gestured between them. “For pushing you away. Twice.” He reached for her hands, and thankfully she didn’t pull them away. “Fergus hit me over the head when I was on my way to come see you. To tell you I was sorry for the ultimatum … and that I love you.”