Always You (Adair Family 3)
“It’s just a disagreement,” I hedged, no emotion, no guilt in my voice.
Thane saw through me.
He took a menacing step closer and looked at me in a way he’d never looked at me before.
Like I was the enemy.
“I love you like a brother, Mac.” His words did nothing to temper my rising panic. “But don’t think I’ve been blind these past few years. If I find out you’ve hurt Arro … I’ll fucking kill you.”
And he meant every word.
I looked away, my chest feeling shredded. “Keep her safe,” I bit out gruffly. “I’ll see what I can learn from the police. I … I will find out who sent that note and end this,” I promised before I stormed out of her house.
I stuttered to a stop on her porch, wanting to turn back, to stride back inside and pull her into my arms and feel her breathe against me, alive and well and … loved.
Even if Arrochar Adair hated me now, I still loved her.
And no fucker would harm a single hair on her head.
They’d have to go through me first, and I was a six-foot-four wall of writhing, contained, cold fury.
The sadistic little fuck who did this was going to regret it for the rest of their life.
8
Arro
LAST CHRISTMAS
* * *
My chest ached with a longing I was well familiar with as I watched Mac with the kids. He worked with them at my kitchen table, helping them roll the cookie dough and cut out shapes with Christmas cookie cutters. Mac had flour in his hair, even some in the scruff on his cheeks.
“Look, Uncle Mac, I did it purrrfectly!” Eilidh raised her arms in a wide V of triumph.
Mac looked down at the wobbly Christmas tree cookie and grinned. “So you did.” His attention moved to Lewis, methodically cutting out snowman-shaped cookies. “Looking good, Lew.”
Lewis gave him a small smile. “Can I make him blue?”
My lips twitched.
“Well, he is made of snow, and people tend to turn blue when they’re cold, so I don’t see why not.”
I chuckled, drawing Mac’s gaze, and he flashed that sexy grin at me.
“Am I wrong?”
“No.” I smiled so hard, my cheeks hurt.
I’d been like this since Thane dropped off the kids. It was our tradition that Eilidh and Lewis spent the first weekend in December with me baking cookies, putting up decorations, and watching Christmas movies. This year was different, however, because only days ago, some drunk, grief-stricken bastard (and he was a bastard no matter his circumstances) had tried to kidnap Eilidh outside the school. Thanks to Regan and other parents, Sean McClintock (said bastard) was apprehended. But he’d hit Regan and terrified my niece and nephew. For that reason, Thane was reluctant to let the kids out of his sight while McClintock was out on bail. He’d only agreed to let them stay once I volunteered Mac to be here with us and sleep on the couch. As I knew he would, Mac had said it was no problem.
Watching him put up the Christmas tree, laughing with the kids, his unending patience with them as they helped bake and decorate cookies, I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering. The fantasy that unfolded in my head of a future of Christmases together with our own kids.
Mackennon never talked about wanting more children, but I knew of men who hadn’t become fathers until they were in their forties. Lachlan would be one of them if Robyn fell pregnant in the future. There was still time. And I knew I wanted kids. I’d known it from the first moment Thane placed newborn Lewis in my arms. I knew it the first time he called me Aunt Arro.
But there was only one man I wanted those children with.
I wanted that future with Mac so badly, it was a physical ache.