Fire Maidens Scotland (Billionaires & Bodyguards #6) - Anna Lowe Page 0,51
oh! Can I pet your dog?” Gemma asked Holly, kneeling.
Lachlan smacked Liam on the back, murmuring, “Thank goodness for Gemma.”
Liam cracked into a huge grin. “I say that every day.” Then he sobered and dropped his voice. “Everything all right on the trip over?”
Lachlan nodded. Thank goodness for that, too. “So glad you two could make it here for a rotation on duty.”
“Wouldn’t miss the fun,” Liam joked, though his eyes took on a hard sheen. Liam understood the danger the Lombardis posed better than most, having faced the clan himself in the fight for his mate.
Tony came up beside them, and Liam gave him a one-armed man-hug. “Tony! You must be delighted to be back. Henry arranged the new teams and — good news! You’re on duty with Duncan in the morning.”
Tony groaned as the sound of a bagpipe broke out from behind the barracks. The off-key wheezes and squeaks of a beginner, not the magical, lilting tones of a pro. Duncan was a member of a Highland cattle shifter clan, better known for their prowess on the battlefield than musical talent.
Tony covered his ears as Liam grinned. “Don’t you love Scotland?”
Tony grimaced. “I’m not sure what I love most. The weather… The food… Or the delightful, um…”
“Music?” Liam chipped in.
“Is that what it is?” Tony sighed. “I couldn’t tell.”
Holly leaned in to whisper in Lachlan’s ear. “Add that to the list.”
“What list?”
“Activities your guests can do when the distillery hosts stag parties. Learning to play the bagpipes.” Her eyes twinkled.
“You mean, activities the new owner’s guests can do,” he corrected.
For a moment, they grinned at the ongoing joke. Lachlan warmed, and for the briefest of moments, the uncertainty of the situation faded away, leaving just Holly and her sky-blue eyes, swirling into his.
Well, well, Liam murmured into his mind. Another dragon in love?
Tony joined in the silent conversation. Of course not. Not Lachlan. Love is foolish, don’t you remember?
Liam chuckled. Love is indeed foolish, and it might be unnecessary. But it feels so, so good. It’s so much better than being alone.
Tony sighed longingly, and in the distance, Duncan’s bagpipes hit a mournful note.
Lachlan forced himself to turn away from Holly, though it burned to do so.
Can we focus on the matter at hand, please? he barked.
I don’t know. Can we? Liam quipped.
Tony shook his head. Doubtful.
Lachlan rolled his eyes and turned to Henry, his selkie second-in-command. “Is the boat ready for transfer to the island?”
Henry nodded and tugged on his wrists — a restless habit akin to pulling on a crumpled sleeve. All selkies had that little obsession — making sure their skin was a tight fit after shifting between seal and human forms.
“Yes, but you’ve missed the tide,” Henry said.
Lachlan cursed. Bloody hell. How had he overlooked that?
“Are you sure? Have you checked the tide tables?”
Henry sniffed. “Selkies don’t need tide tables. It will be another two hours at least.”
Lachlan scowled then looked at the sky. “Fine. We’ll fly.”
Holly eyed him doubtfully. “With the urn? The letters? And what about Mungo?”
“Mungo stays here.”
Holly folded her arms, and Lachlan stuck up his hands in defeat.
Tony and Liam exchanged amused looks, damn them.
“Maybe you should all stay here,” Henry said. “Not a good time for pleasure trips to the island.”
Holly balled her fists. “It’s not a pleasure trip. It’s for Trevor.”
“Trevor wouldn’t have wanted you walking into danger.”
And just like that, all Lachlan’s trepidations returned. How had he allowed Holly to convince him this was a good idea?
Henry softened and looked at Holly. “Can’t it wait, lass?”
A dozen emotions clouded Holly’s eyes, and Lachlan could see her war with herself. Then she shook her head, resolute.
“We have to do this. For Trevor.” She turned to Lachlan. “It’s all over his letters. Haven’t you noticed? This isn’t just about us saying goodbye to him. It’s about him saying goodbye to us so he can…” Her throat bobbed, and her voice went hoarse. “So he can move on.” She gripped his arm. “Trevor needs us to do this for him so he can let go. Not next month, not next year. Now.”
Lachlan wanted to take her hands and quietly explain the painful truth he’d accepted a long time ago. That there was no such thing as a soul, an afterlife, or even purgatory. No heaven, no Valhalla. When your time was up, it was up, and no amount of wishful thinking could change that. It was a matter of science and logic.