whimpers, eventually taking his fingers away from his face. I think the man is blushing for a change.
“So, Lachlan," Brigs says, slapping his thighs. “Let’s see what you can come up with.”
We are the only two who haven’t opened our presents from each other. For a moment my heart flutters, especially when I see his present under the tree, the only one left beside mine. It’s a small box. Like, small enough for a ring. And of course that gets me thinking, both in fear and excitement. It can’t be what I think it can…can it? So soon? Here? Now?
“Uh, why don’t you open mine first,” I tell Lachlan, throwing my package his way. It’s light and he catches it with ease.
I had no clue what to get him so I figured the easiest thing would be to get something for the dogs. For better or for worse, he loves those dogs more than he loves himself. So I went out and had three dog sweaters made with their names on them. I’ve heard him say a few times that they could use them when it’s snowing like it is and it just stuck in my head. Plus, how cute would they all look, walking together in matching outfits? No one could be scared of them then, even with muzzles.
Lachlan seems speechless as he holds up Lionel’s, Emily’s and Jo’s cable-knit sweaters, all with their names knitted in contrasting yarn.
“I’m not sure if they’ll fit,” I try and explain. “It was hard trying to measure Emily, she nearly took my head off.”
“They’ll fit,” he says, almost whispering, as he runs his fingers over them. He looks to me, his beautiful eyes burning into mine, trying to tell me all that his lips cannot.
I kiss him on the cheek and he relaxes himself against me, pulling me into a hug. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “This means so much.”
I run my fingers along his strong jaw and smile, careful not to get too carried away with a captive audience.
“Only one more gift Kayla,” Jessica says, clearing her throat. I pull away from Lachlan’s warmth and look at her shining face. Even she seems a bit emotional over the sweater situation.
I nod and pick it up from under the tree. As I slowly unwrap the plain brown packaging, I try not to let my thoughts run away on me. Runaway thoughts have never done me any good.
But, when the packaging peels away, I’m left with a jewelry box and it’s hard not to think about it. What if it’s an engagement ring? What would I say? Isn’t it too soon? Would Lachlan really take such a private moment and share it with his family, with his grandfather?
“Just open it,” Brigs says.
I do.
I gasp.
It’s not an engagement ring at all. In fact, it’s almost better.
I carefully reach in and hold up a silver necklace, a locket in shape of a heart, engraved with delicate flowers and stars across the face. It shines brightly, probably the prettiest piece of jewelry I’ve ever had. I look up to see Lachlan staring at me expectantly so I look for the snap on the side of the locket and pry it open.
On one side there is a picture of us together. Very small, just our smiling faces, but in black and white. I think it was taken at the Ruff Love gala over the summer. On the other side it says something in what I think is Gaelic. Something I can’t pronounce properly. Sibhe mo clann.
“It’s beautiful,” I tell him breathlessly. “What does it say?”
“It says, you are my clan.”
Jessica makes a dreamy sigh.
I feel like my insides are dancing, my heart buzzing, my blood fizzing like champagne.
“I’m your clan,” I repeat, my pulse racing loudly.
“Aye,” he says. “That and more.”
I swallow hard, those pesky tears finding me again. I want to take him upstairs and show him what this gift, this beautiful, thoughtful, emotional gift means to me. But I can’t. Not here. Not now. All I can do is hug him, kiss him and hope he knows that he’s my clan too, always and forever.
I feel like I’m walking on a cloud for the rest of the day. Even when we go
“So, Lachlan," Brigs says, slapping his thighs. “Let’s see what you can come up with.”
We are the only two who haven’t opened our presents from each other. For a moment my heart flutters, especially when I see his present under the tree, the only one left beside mine. It’s a small box. Like, small enough for a ring. And of course that gets me thinking, both in fear and excitement. It can’t be what I think it can…can it? So soon? Here? Now?
“Uh, why don’t you open mine first,” I tell Lachlan, throwing my package his way. It’s light and he catches it with ease.
I had no clue what to get him so I figured the easiest thing would be to get something for the dogs. For better or for worse, he loves those dogs more than he loves himself. So I went out and had three dog sweaters made with their names on them. I’ve heard him say a few times that they could use them when it’s snowing like it is and it just stuck in my head. Plus, how cute would they all look, walking together in matching outfits? No one could be scared of them then, even with muzzles.
Lachlan seems speechless as he holds up Lionel’s, Emily’s and Jo’s cable-knit sweaters, all with their names knitted in contrasting yarn.
“I’m not sure if they’ll fit,” I try and explain. “It was hard trying to measure Emily, she nearly took my head off.”
“They’ll fit,” he says, almost whispering, as he runs his fingers over them. He looks to me, his beautiful eyes burning into mine, trying to tell me all that his lips cannot.
I kiss him on the cheek and he relaxes himself against me, pulling me into a hug. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “This means so much.”
I run my fingers along his strong jaw and smile, careful not to get too carried away with a captive audience.
“Only one more gift Kayla,” Jessica says, clearing her throat. I pull away from Lachlan’s warmth and look at her shining face. Even she seems a bit emotional over the sweater situation.
I nod and pick it up from under the tree. As I slowly unwrap the plain brown packaging, I try not to let my thoughts run away on me. Runaway thoughts have never done me any good.
But, when the packaging peels away, I’m left with a jewelry box and it’s hard not to think about it. What if it’s an engagement ring? What would I say? Isn’t it too soon? Would Lachlan really take such a private moment and share it with his family, with his grandfather?
“Just open it,” Brigs says.
I do.
I gasp.
It’s not an engagement ring at all. In fact, it’s almost better.
I carefully reach in and hold up a silver necklace, a locket in shape of a heart, engraved with delicate flowers and stars across the face. It shines brightly, probably the prettiest piece of jewelry I’ve ever had. I look up to see Lachlan staring at me expectantly so I look for the snap on the side of the locket and pry it open.
On one side there is a picture of us together. Very small, just our smiling faces, but in black and white. I think it was taken at the Ruff Love gala over the summer. On the other side it says something in what I think is Gaelic. Something I can’t pronounce properly. Sibhe mo clann.
“It’s beautiful,” I tell him breathlessly. “What does it say?”
“It says, you are my clan.”
Jessica makes a dreamy sigh.
I feel like my insides are dancing, my heart buzzing, my blood fizzing like champagne.
“I’m your clan,” I repeat, my pulse racing loudly.
“Aye,” he says. “That and more.”
I swallow hard, those pesky tears finding me again. I want to take him upstairs and show him what this gift, this beautiful, thoughtful, emotional gift means to me. But I can’t. Not here. Not now. All I can do is hug him, kiss him and hope he knows that he’s my clan too, always and forever.
I feel like I’m walking on a cloud for the rest of the day. Even when we go
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