Page 67

“You don’tknowthat, Key,” he half shouts. “You don’t. Neither of us do. Besides, what if Ihurtyou?”

“You wouldn’t,” I answer immediately.

“Not on purpose,” he scoffs. “I’m sure my da never meant to hurt my mum, but he couldn’t control it. What happens when I can’t control it either?”

I notice the panic in his eyes, the real fear in them that tells me he’s been obsessing over this the entire trek back—no doubt working himself up into a frenzy about possibilities that might never even happen. Maybe I should be more afraid. Maybe I should consider what he’s saying, but I can’t help it. Something inside me justknowshe wouldn’t allow himself to hurt me. I don’t know how I know, but I do.

I square my shoulders, jutting out my chin. “What if I said that I think you’re worth the risk?”

“You barely tolerated me a few days ago,” he points out.

I frown. “I didn’t? Did I really hate you, or was I just trying to pretend I didn’t want you as badly as I did?”

Because I suspect the latter is closer to the truth, analyzing it now. Lachlan has possessed my thoughts for weeks—even when I didn’t want him to. Even when I was telling myself I couldn’t stand him…I couldn’t get him out of my head. That has tomeansomething.

His eyes soften a bit, his shoulders slumping as he studies my face, looking…tired, mostly.

“It’s not for you to decide,” he tells me softly. “It’s not a risk I’m willing to let you take.”

I narrow my eyes, disappointment flooding me like hard water, filling me to the brim until I feel heavy with it.

“Okay,” I say after a beat. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s how it has to be.”

I stare at him for another moment, finally shaking my head. “Fine.” I take a step closer, pointing a finger at him. “Butyou’rethe one who’s afraid here. Not me.”

He laughs, but there’s no real humor in it. “I’m starting to think you’re not afraid of anything, Key.”

I have to shove down the elation his praise brings; that’s not what he wants, clearly. And can I even be mad at him? This is his life. I can’t hold him to the flimsy promise ofonekiss. It wouldn’t be fair. No matter how wrong it feels.

“I’ll keep looking,” I tell him instead. “Quietly.”

He nods. “I appreciate it.”

That’s how I leave him, stomping off toward the farmhouse without looking back. No matter how badly I want to. I feel unsettled by the entire encounter, and my distracted state means I don’t notice a body blocking the path to the stairs inside the house, and I barrel into it with anoomphbefore hands curl around my shoulders to steady me.

“Key?” Brodie takes in my frazzled state with a furrowed brow. “You all right?”

It takes me a second to catch up with my brain still sizzling with irritation, but after a few seconds of staring at my cousin dumbly, I manage to answer. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry. I’m fine. Just had a weird day.”

“You want to talk about it?”

He looks sincere, concerned even—his green eyes emanating a soothing energy that makes me wonder why the twins seem to think he’s such anumpty, as they put it. He’s been nothing but nice to me. Still, I know I can’t start spilling my guts about everything I’ve learned this week. It’s not exactly my story to tell.

“It’s nothing,” I tell him instead. “Really. Just a silly argument.”

“Rhona says anything can be fixed with a good cup of tea,” he informs me with a soft smile. He leans in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Now, the jury is still out on whether or not I can manage agoodcup of tea, but since she and Finlay have already gone off to bed, I reckon between the two of us, we can whip up something decent.”

I chuckle, letting some of the tension unwind from inside me. “Tea sounds great, actually.”

“Well, come on into the kitchen, and let’s see what we can find.”

Brodie hums as he riffles through the cabinets in search of honey, and I watch him work from my seat at the table, holding my cup.

“Know it’s here somewhere,” he mutters.

“It’s really okay,” I assure him. “This is fine as is.”