Always You (Adair Family 3)

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“I ate as I cooked.”

Arro sipped at her coffee. Then, “You look serious, Mackennon. Should I be worried?”

“No.” I sat down on the bed beside her. “But I don’t know if I should be worried.”

“I’m confused.” She picked up her cutlery and began eating. A few seconds later, she impatiently swallowed a bite and said, “Well?”

“You don’t want to stay at my place,” I blurted out.

That concern grew as Arro sat back against her pillows and studied me carefully.

Finally, she sighed. “I didn’t want to ruin what’s happening between us. I thought going back might bring everything up, and I didn’t want to …” She trailed off, guilt flashing across her face.

“Didn’t want to what? Arro?”

“Didn’t want to feel differently toward you again.”

Anxious heat warmed my skin. “Do you think you will?”

Thankfully, she shook her head. “I’ve forgiven you, Mackennon, I promise. It’s just … the trust is still building. I’m worried the memories will mess up that process.”

My fears had tried to take hold, but I was done letting them control me. “I want you to come to the cottage today. We don’t have to stay long, but I want you to try. We can’t ignore these things, Arro.”

To my gratitude, Arro nodded. “Okay. You’re right.”

So here we were, back in the village. But on the drive in, Arro had requested we lead up to the cottage by stopping for a coffee at Flora’s. That I could do. It would also mean putting ourselves out there with the villagers, which seemed risky considering Arro might take one step into my house and decide we were forever tainted by the memory of my fuck-up that night.

I was living on the side of hope that it wouldn’t be as drastic as all that.

We were great together, and though my demons liked to argue with me now and then, I knew deep down, Arro thought we were great together too.

Ardnoch was at the height of its tourist season, but we were in the village early enough to find a parking space, and hopefully, a table at Flora’s. We passed more strangers than neighbors, but the villagers we passed definitely gave a double glance at us arm in arm.

“There’s a table in the back,” Arro observed as we approached the windowed front of Flora’s.

I opened the door for her, the bell above ringing to announce our presence. Some people looked up; others didn’t. A couple of faces I recognized, but the rest were tourists.

Flora came out from behind the counter as I held open the door for Arro. She strode past me, her floral perfume no longer provoking thoughts of desperate, pathetic pining but memories of kissing and caressing every inch of her. I now knew this woman’s body as well as I knew my own.

Forcing away thoughts that might get me into trouble, I closed the door behind us and placed a guiding hand on Arro’s lower back as I led her across the small café.

“Morning, Flora,” Arro said to the owner.

Flora’s gaze zeroed in on where I touched Arro, but she merely nodded and welcomed us to the empty table before taking our order. Like last time, I moved my chair close to Arro’s so our knees touched. I could tell by Flora’s unusual stiffness that gossip had definitely circulated.

I lit a fire under it.

Arro’s sip from her cappuccino had left a foam mustache across her top lip. Before I could think about my actions, I bent my head to kiss the foam off. Except, as always, the kiss changed into something a little longer, hungrier. Reluctantly, I broke it, stroking my thumb over her bottom lip, holding her gaze, silently telling her the three words I hadn’t spoken in almost three weeks. Because it had grown too painful not to hear them back. As much as I was ready to wait for her, I couldn’t take that particular rejection. I’d say them if I thought she needed to hear it, but for now, I hoped my actions spoke those words for me.

That was when I sensed the staring.

Lifting my head, I found Flora gaping over the counter at us like a codfish. Arro groaned under her breath, and I followed her gaze across the room to see Janet Mulree, owner of a tourist gift shop, sitting at a table with her college-age daughter.

Janet Mulree was one of Ardnoch’s biggest gossips.

I was aware of her and her daughter leaving five minutes later … but honestly, I had no idea the woman could work as fast as she did.