Absent in the Spring (The Shakespeare Sisters 3)

As they left, Grant reached for the wine, topping up their glasses. ‘Lucy seems nice.’

‘Yes, she is.’ Lachlan took a mouthful of prosecco. ‘Jesus, this stuff is way too sweet. Shall we order something else?’

‘Like beer?’

‘I was thinking whisky.’

Grant grinned. ‘Now you’re talking.’

Lachlan motioned for Elise, who took their order with a smile. She brought their drinks back within a couple of minutes.

‘So come on, spill. What’s going on between you two? Is it serious?’ Grant’s voice rose up with his last question, as though he couldn’t quite believe he was asking it.

Lachlan glanced over at the bathroom doors – no sign of the girls. ‘Yeah, it’s serious.’ And maybe there was a little gravel in his voice when he said it. Not because he was nervous, exactly. More that this was important to him.

He wanted his best friend to see Lucy the way he did.

‘Wow.’ Grant shook his head, his eyes wide. ‘I never thought I’d see the day.’

‘What day?’

‘The day you finally met your match.’ Finally Grant grinned. ‘Or maybe I’m being too kind to you, because, my friend, you’re clearly hitting above your weight. What the hell does she see in you anyway?’

‘The s

ame thing Jenn sees in you, I expect.’ Lachlan swirled the ice around his glass, listening to the sound it made as it hit the sides.

Grant laughed. ‘You’re comparing her to Jenn? Oh man, this is even better than I thought.’ He tipped his head to the side, listening as Lachlan swirled his ice around again. ‘Are those wedding bells I can hear?’

Lachlan emptied his glass, motioning over to Elise to bring another. ‘Leave the bottle,’ he told Elise, as she finished filling their glasses. As soon as she left, he turned back to Grant. ‘When did you turn into a such a gossip? Shouldn’t we be talking about last night’s game?’

There was a smile on Grant’s face that looked as though it was never going away. ‘Oh no, you don’t get away that easily. Six years, that’s how long you’ve been calling me pussy-whipped and domesticated. That’s how long you’ve smirked every time I tell you Jenn and I are going shopping, or that I’m meeting her folks. You don’t get to swat me away when we’ve been talking for less than six minutes.’

‘I called you pussy-whipped?’ Lachlan asked, appalled.

‘Among other things.’

‘Well, that was a dickish move. Sorry, man.’ Lachlan wrinkled his nose.

‘You’re forgiven. As always.’ Grant was still grinning. ‘So tell me, when’s she going home?’

‘Lucy? On Sunday.’

‘So she’ll be here for the gala?’

Lachlan’s already tense stomach tightened. ‘Gala?’

‘You know it’s on Saturday, right? It’s in your calendar.’

‘Shit. I’d completely forgotten about it.’ Lachlan rubbed his face, blinking. ‘It’s this Saturday?’ It was the last thing he wanted to do – attend a gala for his dead father’s favourite charity. The one time a year he had to see all his father’s family in one place, Duncan included.

How many years had he sat there feeling excluded? Ignored by everybody as though he wasn’t a true MacLeish. The thought of having Lucy there with him made his chest feel warm. He’d be somebody. He could face anything with her by his side.

‘Yep, that’s right. And lucky for you I already assumed you’d have a plus one, so there’s room on the MacLeish Holdings table.’ Grant grinned. ‘I have to admit I hadn’t been looking forward to going, but now I know Lucy will be there, maybe it won’t be so bad after all.’

‘Maybe it won’t be,’ Lachlan agreed, and it was strange how much truth was in those words. Even stranger how having her by his side made everything else seem so much less important, including this damn dispute with his brother. He glanced down at his now-empty glass, a smile curling at his lips.

When he looked up, Grant’s own smile had doubled in size. ‘You’re in big, big trouble, my friend.’