And not his style.
But Lana glowed, outshining each of the beautiful women at the table and he wasn’t just saying that to be nice. She had an inner grace that just oozed from her pores, spilling out in radiant beauty that took his breath away so was it any wonder that Sutton was panting after her like a rutting dog?
How many times had he sat at this very table under different circumstances? More than he could count. The Buchanan place was like a second home, particularly when his old man had tossed him out more than a few times in his misguided youth. Vince had always made sure he had a place to crash. So inevitably, there were times that the other Buchanans were there, too. Good times, bad times.
He contributed little to the ongoing conversations, watching as Vince, Nolan and Dillon doted on their women — that in itself was a surreal experience — and he half wondered if it were possible to have what they had…family, stability…hell, being a grown up.
Shit, his dad would die from a heart attack if he suddenly became a functioning member of society.
Whitney rose from her place, presumably to refill her wine glass but when she dropped his way, sliding her fingertips along his shoulders, he could fairly feel the interest coming off her in waves. He shot a quick look Lana’s way and saw the narrowed stare she was sending Whitney. If looks could kill, Lana could’ve been a sniper. “We should catch up while I’m in town,” she whispered in his ear. “I’m feeling nostalgic. Remember that night in the pool, when everyone was asleep…”
He chuckled. “It’s been a long time, Whitney,” he agreed, playing along but he held no real interest in hooking up with the tigress. “Maybe another time.”
“Suit yourself. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
Not even if the world was ending, he thought privately even as he gave Whitney a flirty smile.
Suddenly, Emma stood and lightly tapped her water glass to get everyone’s attention. Once all eyes were on her, Emma looked nervously to her husband and said, “This is bad timing but I can’t hold it in any longer and I figured, maybe this is the best way to do it — one fell swoop and everyone knows.”
“Knows what?” Vince asked, confused. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. Better than fine. Actually…um, well, the thing is…you’re, I mean, we, are going to have a baby.”
There was a stunned beat of silence and then all hell broke loose as Shannon, Penny and Lana began crying and happily babbling with congratulations while the cousins clapped politely. Laird could care less about their reactions, he wanted to know how his best friend felt about becoming a dad and swiveled his attention to Vince.
And then he nearly lost it.
Vince — a man who was probably the toughest son-of-a-bitch he knew — looked ready to pitch forward in a dead faint. Nolan clapped his brother on the back with a hearty congratulations and Vince offered a stunned smile in return. The man look terrified — and Laird wasn’t the only one he saw it.
“Are you happy?” Emma asked, her voice breaking as she returned to her seat, suddenly scared. “Maybe I should’ve broken the news in private.”
Emma’s uncertainty broke past his initial reaction and he gathered her in his arms and held her tight, forgetting the rest of the table and focusing solely on his wife. “I love you so much,” he said with a hoarse rasp. “I love you so, so much.”
Vince was scared of being like his father, Laird realized, with a pang of anguish for his friend but he also knew Vince would figure it out that he was nothing like that asshole who raised him and the brothers. Nothing. And he would be a great dad. The kind of dad Vince had always wished he’d had. How did he know that? Because he’d seen what fatherhood had done for Nolan and Dillon — a fucking miracle.
Lana was wiping away happy tears of her own and he realized with a chuckle Lana had known all along and had almost told him the secret a few moments ago. Good to know that Lana had a hard time keeping a secret.
A sense of urgency gripped him that came out of nowhere. He was happy for Vince but he was ready to call it an evening and when he did…he was taking Lana with him.
Tonight, Lana was going to be his.
Of that, he was certain.
And frankly, he couldn’t stand to waste another second without her beneath him.
***
Lana, still giddy from the good news and the second glass of champagne she’d enjoyed, smiled brightly up at Laird as he took her hand and gently pulled her from her chair. “I think it’s time to call it a night,” he told her and she willingly rose from the table, eyes on Laird, happy to allow him to take the lead. She nodded and Laird said their goodbyes. Emma caught her eye and minutely shook her head but Lana wasn’t interested in another debate about how Laird was a terrible person and not right for her. Besides, Emma had her hands full with her own stuff, she could butt out of Lana’s for the evening. “We’ll take my car,” Laird said, helping her into her coat. “Your car will be fine here for the night.”
She nodded, her heart warm and light for the first time in ages. “And just where are we going?” she asked.
“My place,” he answered smoothly as if it were completely natural for her to go home with him. A flutter of anticipation mingled with the lingering fear that lived in her heart and she realized if she was ever going to be normal again, she’d have to start acting normal. She felt safe with Laird. He’d never hurt her. But what if she had a flash back again? What if she freaked out and ran to hide in a corner as she sobbed and shook because she couldn’t handle sexual contact?
Laird’s hand, masculine and strong, covered hers with a reassuring squeeze as they approached his car, a sporty BMW that practically screamed, I’m better than you and I like showing it off, and he said in a gentle, but firm voice, “I will never ask anything of you that you aren’t ready to give” and she instantly relaxed. She nodded and climbed into the car, sliding easily into the soft black leather and amazed at the opulent luxury. Sometimes she forgot just how different their worlds were.
“What if I can’t…” she let the sentence trail; he knew what she meant.
“Then we don’t do anything but hang out. Maybe I’ll cash in that raincheck.”
He was being so sweet, so tender. Was this real? Please be real. The plea, whispered through her heart and she knew, in spite of her best efforts, she was falling hard for Laird. Maybe she’d fallen for him months ago when he’d asked nothing of her and had simply been an unexpected friend during a time of turmoil and uncertainty. Maybe she’d known all along that Laird could be the one to help her heal…or maybe she was completely out of her depth and about to drown.
Either way, she knew when she’d accepted his invitation that something was going to happen. One way or another, she’d find out if she were truly broken or if with the right tools, she could be fixed.
Only one way to find out.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing.
Laird will never hurt you…
-9-
Laird’s house wasn’t a shack by any means but it was modest in comparison to the Buchanan mansion. Lana enjoyed the architecture of the house and even though it could use a woman’s touch — bean bag chair? Really? — it was a nice place. Being bac
k at Laird’s reminded her of how sweet he’d been when she’d been at the height of her paranoid seclusion. She’d always wondered why he’d been so kind, so understanding when they’d been practical strangers.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked, flipping on lights and going into the kitchen. Everything was as she remembered it. Granite countertops, top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances with modern decor. Much nicer than her place, for sure. He cracked open a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass. She accepted the glass and smiled as he proposed a toast. “To new beginnings,” he suggested.
“To new beginnings,” she agreed with a murmur as she sipped the wine. She wasn’t a connoisseur but the wine was smooth as silk with a rich, smoky after flavor that tickled her senses. “Very good,” she said. “I mean, I can only imagine that it’s the best, right?”
“Actually, I like what I like. I don’t much care if it’s some ridiculous vintage and cost an exorbitant amount,” he said, surprising her with his honest answer. “Maybe that’s what Sutton would call low-class but I don’t give a shit. I’ve never been one to chase after the opinions of others.”
“An admirable quality,” she said.
“I’ve always thought so.”
She regarded him for a long moment, the intimacy of the moment growing. It felt so completely natural to be there with him even though it shouldn’t. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Why were you so kind to me all those months ago?”
Laird hesitated, swirling his wine gently as he considered his answer. Finally, he shrugged as if unsure himself but said, “You’d been through something I could never imagine. You didn’t need some asshole giving you a hard time. At the time I was so angry that someone was using the club to do bad things to women that I would’ve done anything to see that person caught. That’s why I agreed to watch over you while Emma was with Vince but once I met you…I don’t know, I just felt…protective.”