Lachlan, being the eldest at only eleven years old, took it upon himself to parent his siblings. She said it was a role he never shook off.
He took a break from it to go to college and then pursue his Hollywood career, but Arro said, despite his protests that he wanted to retire as an actor, she always thought there was no coincidence that it aligned with their father’s death. Arro was with their dad when he died. They were out walking her father’s dog on the beach when he just collapsed. One minute he was there, the next minute gone. Heart attack.
So much death and sadness for their family.
Lachlan had yet to mention any of it to me. Not that we didn’t talk. While we had lots of sex, it unexpectedly wasn’t just sex. I didn’t know if it was what I’d said to him the night of my attack, or if it was just a natural thing we’d fallen into, but after sex, I’d make to leave, he’d stop me, and we’d talk about our days before drifting off to sleep.
That first night in the castle in my bed, I’d woken in the morning to find Lachlan had returned to his room. Understanding the act for what it was, I returned the favor. I’d slip out in the morning before he woke up, and he’d not asked me to stop, so I took that to mean he appreciated that little nod to maintaining some kind of casual distance between us.
“Family,” he murmured after what felt like a long while. “Family has always mattered the most.”
“Was that something you learned from your dad?”
“Mum, actually.” He surprised me.
I’d already done the mental calculations. “You were only seven when she died.”
Lachlan leaned up, resting his head in the palm of his hand. “Yes. Seven. But I still remember conversations with her. By the time I was born, both her parents had died. She was an only child and had always wanted brothers and sisters.”
I smiled thinking about it. “So she made sure you had plenty.”
“Exactly. Mum fell pregnant with Thane three months after giving birth to me, so we grew up almost as close as twins.”
“Three months? Ouch.” I winced at the thought.
He chuckled. “She didn’t seem to mind. I don’t think.”
“Then there was Brodan?”
“He came a few years later. I was three when he was born. Then Arran was a year after Brodan.”
“That’s a lot of babies in a short space of time.”
His expression grew solemn. “Dad told me when I was older that the doctor suggested they stop after Arran. Mum was thirty-seven, and she’d put her body through a lot. But she wanted a wee girl. One more time, she’d said to Dad. I want my wee Arrochar.” Pain glistened in Lachlan’s beautiful eyes. “I think Dad blamed himself, but the doctors said the blood clot was just something that happens. Rare, but it happens.”
I reached out to stroke his cheek, feeling the welcome soft bristle of his beard against my fingertips. Lachlan caught my hand and brought it to his mouth to press a sweet kiss to the back of it. When he released me, I couldn’t resist the urge to brush my fingers over his mouth.
Drawing my thumb down his lower lip, I said, “I’m sorry about your mom.”
He took my hand again, curled his around it, and rested it against his chest. A heavy silence fell between us.
Wanting to ease the tension, I asked, “Where does the name Arrochar come from? It’s so unusual.”
Lachlan seemed grateful for the subject change. “It’s a place in Scotland. In Argyll. Dad said Mum just always liked the name. Arran is a Scottish place name too. That’s why it’s spelled with two r’s.”
“I’d like to see both. I’d like to see everywhere here.”
“Scotland’s in your blood.”
“It is,” I admitted.
“You’re glad you came?”
We hadn’t spoken about my feelings regarding Mac. We’d talked about the time I spent with Mac, which was less now since my father had gotten his way and returned to work. Yet Lachlan seemed wary of broaching the subject of Mac. In fact, I got the distinct impression his and Mac’s relationship had become somewhat superficial these last three weeks. I wasn’t sure what was going on there, but I did know it was about me, and that did not sit well. I knew I should end things with Lachlan. Every time I’d made up my mind to walk away, he’d touch me. And then I was lost.
“Of course, I am,” I replied. “It’s not easy to forgive him for not trying harder, but knowing that he did try makes all the difference. And it’s … we have a connection. There’s no denying the bond, and there’s no denying that I haven’t felt like a complete person until I came here to fix things with him.”
“And now you’ve fallen in love with Scotland. I can see it in your photos.”
I grinned. “It’s difficult not to be seduced by this place.”
“Well, you are easily seduced,” he teased.
“I can be unseduced.” I pulled my hand out of his hold and he laughed. Shaking my head at his nonsense, I continued, “In all seriousness, how could you leave this place for Hollywood? How did that happen? You don’t talk about it.”
Lachlan sighed, tucking his arms underneath his pillows to relax into them. “Not because of any particular reason. I just assumed it was all out there for everyone to know because I’ve done so many interviews.”
“I’m not the type who watches celebrity interviews.”
He grinned again. “No, I suppose not.”
“So, how did it happen for you?”
“It was an accident. I was a second year at St. Andrews Uni, a prelaw undergraduate, and I hated it. The best part was being on the rugby team and getting student discounts at the local pubs.”
“Your first time away from family?”
He nodded. “It was strange. Felt like I was abandoning them but at the same time, I …” Guilt flashed across his eyes.
And I got it. I understood that feeling completely. “You felt free.”
Lachlan’s expression tightened. “I was young.”
“I don’t have that excuse. I felt like a third parent to my sister for so long, and finally I’m doing what I want to do and it doesn’t revolve around my mom and Seth or Regan. So I get it.”
His gaze softened. “I fully enjoyed the experience, let’s say. And one of my suite mates was an aspiring actor. He’d gotten wind that Kevin Pierce, the director behind the comic book movies, was filming scenes for the latest one in Edinburgh, and they were looking for extras. Somehow I got roped into going with him, and the producer picked me out. She liked my look. Asked if I could fake a right hook. Afterward she gave me her card.”
I guffawed. “Just like that?”
“I know,” he said, laughter in his voice. “Actors who have been working for years to get noticed hate that shit when they hear it. I’m not well liked in that regard. But the producer was actually serious. Wanted me to audition for another movie.”
“She wanted to have sex with you.”
He looked away.
“Oh my God, I’m right.”
“It wasn’t tawdry sexual blackmail. I would have gotten the work without it.”
“But you had sex with her, anyway?”