Hope Everlastin' Book 4 (43 page)

"With the boys?"

He nodded, swallowed hard
then cleared his throat. "I love them, Laura." He laughed
unsteadily and lowered his head. "I love the feel o’ them in ma
arms, their scent and their mannerisms, and even their pranks. I
don’t just want to be their Uncle Roan, but their dad, wi' every
responsibility tha' comes wi' it. I want to adopt them and give
them ma name as weel as ma love. I know tha's selfish, Laura. They
have a faither and a mither."

"I've thought about it,
too," she said softly.

"You have?"

She nodded. "I planned to
talk to you about it after the wedding."

His tears glimmered to the
glow of his smile. "Abou' adoptin’ them?"

"Yes. I don't know how my
parents will take it, though."

"I like them."

"You do?"

He grinned crookedly. "Your
faither tells the corniest jokes, but I can’t help but laugh at
them. Somethin’ in his facial expressions durin’ the telling, I
guess."

"They like you. A
lot."

"Do they?" he
chuckled.

"Daddy told me after supper
that you're a man's man, even though you cook like a
woman."

"Meanin’ wha'?"

She laughed and shrugged.
"Beats the hell out of me, but he said it with pride, so it must be
good. And Mom said I sure have an eye for a hunk."

"A hunk, eh?"

Laura nuzzled her brow
against his left cheek. "You're my hunk, Roan Ingliss, and I love
you more than I ever thought possible."

"Even when I'm in a foul
mood?"

"Yep."

"On ma lips?"

"Depends where you have
them."

"On the rim o' a glass o'
scotch?"

She paused then said,
"Yep."

"Hmm. Remember you said
tha' when next I transgress."

She gave a low murmur of
contentment. "I'm sure you'll remind me. Roan?"

"Wha', love?"

"I'm worried about how our
parents are going to take meeting the fairies."

He thought about this for a
time and twisted his mouth in wry amusement. "It'll rock ma
parents' comfortable little world o' reality."

"Now, Roan, be
nice."

"I am nice—nice and
disappointed tha’ efter all these years they still make me feel
like the boy who stood in front o' Aggie's watchin’ them drive
away. Damn me, Laura, I don't like this side o' me. They're ma
parents. Maybe I just think I'm mon enough to get past the hurt and
go on wi' ma life. Obviously, I'm no'."

"Think you're man enough?"
she challenged, sitting up and looking him in the eye. "Roan, stop
beating yourself up over this! You have every right to be angry.
Parents have to earn respect like anyone else. Considering what
you've been through, I'm amazed at your ability to love so
openly."

"But I don't," he murmured.
"I've held back on you and the boys from the verra
beginnin’."

"Oh, bull. Short of ripping
out your heart and handing it to me on a platter, what more could
you possibly give?"

"A snip o' parsley on the
side," he quipped, laughter in his eyes.

With a groan, she pressed
her brow to his. "You know what?"

"Wha’?"

"You're talking like
yourself again."

Frowning, he leaned his
head back to look at her. "Talkin’ like maself, how?"

"For a while, you've been
using Lannie's lingo."

"Lingo?"

"His 'dinna' and
'canna'."

"Kevin mentioned tha' a few
days ago."

"There's nothing wrong with
it," she laughed. "You admire Lachlan, and I think you wish you
were more like him."

"Aye, I do."

"Why?"

"He has a knack for
acceptin’ the good and the bad wi' equal measure, and he finds
humor in almaist everythin’. You know, Laura, considerin’ his
history, he should have a big chip on his shoulder, but no' him.
And I guess I admire the way he brings ou' the best in people. Like
Reith. Here was this scruffy kid we caught, who we thought at first
was diggin’ up the graves, and wi’in a few minutes, Lannie hires
him. He hires him, gives him a home, and puts warmer clothes on his
back."

"You wouldn't have done the
same?"

Roan shrugged and stared
into the fire. "I don't know. I'm too suspicious by
nature."

"Bull twinkie."

Her words brought his gaze
to her face, and he laughed. "Bull twinkie?"

"Yeah, bull twinkie. Now
you listen to me, Roan Ingliss. You and Lachlan are very much
alike, so there's no reason for you to want to be him."

"I don't
exactly—"

She pressed a forefinger to
his lips, silencing him. "Yes, you do." She lowered the hand and
eyed him adoringly. "But I'm in love with you, Roan, not
Lachlan."

"If we're so much
alike...."

"There are differences,
obviously. Looks. You're quieter. You were born in this
century."

He laughed. "Okay, I get
the point."

"Do you?"

Her soft tone was like a
caress to his ears. "Aye, I do. I was just havin’ a wee fun wi'
you."

"Hey, I have an
idea!"

Humorous wariness shadowed
his features. "And wha' is this idea?"

"Maybe the fairies have a
spell that will make our parents think they're attending a normal
wedding."

Roan threw back his head
and laughed. "Lass, I think ye're thinking too much. Besides, Reith
doesn't seem concerned, and he is the Pledger."

After a moment, Laura
nodded. "You're right. Besides—and please don't take this to
heart—I think your mother could do with a dose of Blue."

A wicked gleam appeared in
his eyes as he contemplated this. "I can't imagine her takin’ guff
from ma mither."

Laura made a rueful face
and grinned. "Lachlan told me Blue was hiding in his hair most of
the day."

"Wha'ever for?"

Laura laughed. "To keep him
calm."

Roan's face crinkled with a
smile. "I'm growin’ mair and mair fond o' our fairy queen. Shame
abou' her and Reith, though."

"I know. They're so cute
together."

"Laura, we have a fairy
king workin’ as groundskeeper."

She shrugged flamboyantly,
a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Doesn't everyone? Oh, and by the
way, guess what?"

He arched an
eyebrow.

"We're alone. Sitting in
front of a glorious fire. Just you and me."

He looked about the room.
"So we are."

"So?"

Both of his eyebrows jerked
upward. "Are you suggestin’ wha' I think ye're
suggestin’?"

She gently nipped his lower
lip. "I don't know. Am I?"

Roan's chest expanded with
an intake of air into his lungs. "The ceilin’ might fall on our
heads. Or the boys burst in."

"We're wasting time," she
purred, running her palms along the muscular contours of his
pectorals.

"Do you want to go back to
our room?"

"Not a chance. I want you
here and now, Roan."

"This verra minute?" he
asked breathlessly.

She kissed him. "Right—"
She kissed him again. "—now."

Her eyes riveted on her
task, she unbuttoned his shirt and swept aside the material to
expose the breadth of his chest. She swallowed as desire quivered
through her, and her hands trembled slightly as she touched the
fingertips to his warm flesh and ran them over the enticing
curvatures. She saw his eyes close. He shivered, and she knew she
had awakened his nerve endings. With her own eyes closed, she
leaned forward, pushed his hair aside, and directed her mouth to
one side of his neck. She nibbled at his skin with her teeth,
relishing his spasms of delight then caressed him with the tip of
her tongue. He tasted of salt and mild soap, of heaven and earth
and the sweetness of love.

Roan's hands eased around
to her back and kneaded the solidity beneath her cream-colored
pullover sweater. It amazed him that no matter how insecure or lost
he felt, a touch or a kiss from her could banish it all and make
him feel as if the world were his for the asking. How could a man
hurt because of something from out of his past, when his present
and future were so filled with love and promise and hope? Nothing
should matter but what life had offered him in this woman and her
nephews.

And he vowed to himself,
nothing would again.

With a rumbling moan, he
dipped his hands beneath her sweater and explored the satin of her
camisole, then the softness of her skin. Her lips and tongue and
teeth had erupted tiny flames behind his breast and a haze of
desire in his mind. Hooking his hands on her shoulders, he urged
her back and hungrily sought her mouth. He kissed her deeply,
passionately, his tongue sweeping along the lining of her lips and
then venturing into her mouth. They kissed for an indefinite time,
wrapped in each other's arms, sharing body warmth and the intricate
matrix of their sexual nature which had initiated their bond during
their first union as Roan and Laura.

"I love you," she rasped
when the kissed ended.

He loved the way her eyes
looked when she was passionate. Green and fiery. An entity in their
own right. Eyes that could say more with a glance, than most people
could vocalize.

Framing her face with his
large hands, he took a while to gaze over her features. He had
always thought her beautiful, but of late there'd been a glow about
her, softening and yet enhancing the qualities her genes had
bestowed on her. It struck him again how much he wanted to have a
child with her. A daughter with her eyes and blond hair, pouty
lips, and a pert nose.

Impatient with his delay,
Laura pulled her sweater and camisole over her head in one motion
and tossed them on the sofa. Roan's gaze dropped to her heaving
breasts, and his mouth went dry at the sight of her rigid nipples.
Static roared in his ears. The haze in his mind slipped down to
blur his vision.

"What's wrong?" she asked
in small voice.

"Ye're
so...exquisite."

"Then why aren't you making
love to me?"

He couldn't answer right
away. Jiggling his head, he cleared his throat and blurted, "I was
thinkin’ o' our daughter."

Laura leaned back, eyes
wide in a shocky face. "You're psychic?"

"Wha'? No." He chuckled. "I
was thinkin’ wha' it would be like to have a daughter who looks
like you. I suppose I shouldn’t been thinkin’ abou' anythin’ but
you. I'm sorry, Laura."

"It's okay. Umm, why would
you be thinking of a daughter at all? We-ah, haven't discussed
having a child of our own."

"True, we
haven't."

"I figured you would think
the boys were all you could handle for now."

"I thought the same abou'
you." He smiled a bit sadly. "Truth is, Laura, I think a lot abou'
us havin’ a baby, but then I tell maself it wouldn't be fair to you
or the lads."

"Do you really think they
would mind?"

"I don't know. Probably
no'. Look how attached they are to the twins."

Laura eyes brimmed with
tears. She attempted to look away, but Roan gripped her chin
between a thumb and forefinger and forced her to face
him.

"Laura, have I spoiled the
mood for you?"

A single tear escaped down
her cheek. "No. I've just been frantic about how to tell
you."

"Tell me wha'?" Concern
masked his features as he cupped a hand at the back of her head.
"Laura, you can tell me anythin’. If you don't want or can't have a
child, I'll understand."

"My last period was two
months ago."

Her strained statement hung
in the air for a time then Roan blinked in bewilderment and opened
his mouth to speak.

Laura rushed on to say, "I
didn't know how to tell you. I didn't want you to feel trapped. So
much has been going—"

He silenced her with a
kiss, then again framed her face and gazed wondrously into her
eyes. "Ye're pregnant?"

She nodded.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Winston and Deliah
told me I was, for sure. I made them promise not to say anything to
anyone until I worked up the courage to tell you."

She began to weep and Roan
put his arms around her and rocked her trembling form. "Hush,
Laura. Hush. Do I look afraid? Disappointed? No’ as thrilled as a
bleedin’ sparrow when spring chases off the bite o'
winter?"

A strangled laugh escaped
her, and she peered with uncertainty into the amber depths of his
eyes. "It's okay with you?"

"Okay?" A boom of a laugh
burst from his throat. "I'm ecstatic! And so will be the lads when
we tell them!"