1

Scotland, Present Day

I’m nervous. Actually petrified. Okay, probably more agitated than anything. I’m not the kind of woman that gets easily flustered. But that Englishman is always bringing it out in me. In the beginning, it was strictly frustration because he said he respected me too much. Fuck that. Now I’m just rattled all the time around him. He’s beautiful. I mean the kind of drop-dead gorgeous where your heart begins to palpitate and looking into his eyes is like ogling the sun. It almost worked. I mean we almost worked. I still have yet to figure out why he chose me.

Fuck, the man could have any woman in the world. No, scratch that—the universe. Not only was he eye candy so sweet it made your teeth ache, but nice. He was the kind of man every mother wants for her daughter. I’m talking the fairy-tale prince you dream about and wish for. Although, I never did. I never wanted that. It was supposed to be a one-night stand. But the bastard never actually left; he just kept coming back. I’d love to say the sex was so stellar he wanted another taste. But there was no tasting of any kind for months. Truly, Keenan and I never had the one-night stand because our first night had been sabotaged by Latch and Haven.

All I wanted was to sample him. We didn’t even have to fuck. I would have been content sucking him off. I’d imagined for quite a few months that his cock was as stunning as he was. He ruined it all. By developing feelings. I was honest from the get-go. He always wanted more, and I tried to tell him early on that just wasn’t me. It’s not that I was incapable of love; I just never felt the need for it. I never had the desire to be committed to one person. Just the thought made me break out in hives.

He wouldn’t let it go. That first year and a half was perfect. We had an off-and-on-again relationship. No strings—no commitments. I’ll admit I never wandered far. And even though I would never confess it to anyone, I never slept with another man. Yes, I gave oral, but a blowjob had never been as intimate to me as actual intercourse. I’d seen him out in public with a few women during that time, but somehow, we always drifted back to each other.

When we did finally consummate our relationship, it was like nothing I’d experienced. Having sex with Keenan Stone was like an endless tsunami. The man could give you an orgasm repeatedly until you were begging for a life preserver. He had skills. I might have been the queen of blowjobs, but he was the king of coming. That should have been enough.

I never understood why we needed to be more. He wanted a commitment, something long-term. I should have said no to cohabitation, but he’d wanted us to be exclusive. Jesus, even the word is hard to say. I feel like I’m spitting cotton. He coerced me into living together, and now he wanted to seal our fate, fucking forever. I tried to explain how illogical it was to consider it. He was young, famous, and gorgeous, with many more years to sow his oats. I was older and a real estate mogul and would never be ready to hand over the reins to one man.

Yes, I could call myself a mogul now. I’d made it big in the real estate field. I had so many clients I had to narrow it down to only the very wealthy. I didn’t need the income and I never had to work, but I enjoyed it. I liked the interaction with people, and when Haven moved to Scotland, it got lonely. So I poured myself into my business and worked my ass off.

The fact was Keenan needed more. He wanted an “old-school” relationship. The problem is I am actually “old-school.” I have eleven years on him, and he needs to be with someone his own age, a woman who will give him everything he craves and desires. I’m not who he should grow old with. I’m going to get there way ahead of him anyway. Even now, he’s only thirty-four, and I’m in my mid forties. He can do better. Maybe not sexually, but for a faithful relationship, absolutely. Even though I tried many times to tell him that isn’t who I am, he would persist. I think somewhere deep inside, he thought he could change my mind. It never mattered how I felt. I knew this thing with Keenan had lasted longer than I ever expected.

I should have done this in fucking L.A., but the fact is I’m a pussy. I have major trepidation. This is his fault. He said we could talk about it after we got back. I’d already made up my mind. He had to know that. Ever since, my mood has fluctuated between paranoia and wanting to vomit.

So here I am, doing this here in Scotland where I’ll have Haven’s encouragement. Who am I fucking kidding? She’s going to flip out on me. She’ll be pissed off. And Latch, Jesus, the guy will go postal. He might be off the booze and drugs, but he still has a Scottish temper. Hell, even his mother Fiona might conjure up some spell. I’ve always said she’s a witch. Still, I chose to do this here because I need Haven to hear me out and support what I say. I kept my mouth shut for the most part when she went through holy hell trauma with Latch. Their beginning was a whirlwind and not in romance book kind of way. She owes me.

So here I sit. There’s at least twenty people milling around the house and tons of staff doing prep work in the kitchen. What am I thinking? Maybe I should just forget it and deal with it later in L.A. I mean, it is Latch’s thirtieth birthday party. I could have picked a better time. The truth is I know what this will to do to Keenan. He was already distraught before we left. This will be the final straw for him. I may need my bestie’s support prior, but he will need it after. I want Latch to be his solace, and I know no matter how much of a douche he can be, he’ll be there for his friend.

I feel physically ill. I’ve never been the nervous type, and here I am sweating bullets. I can pretend everything’s fine and leave it be, but he’s pushed me too far. He’s left me no choice. He wants too much; no matter how much I bend, he always wants more. I have nothing else left to give. I have to walk away now. I can’t be this ideal woman he’s created in his head. He needs so much more than I can offer. He doesn’t realize it, but I’m doing him a favor. He’ll eventually meet some perfect woman that will want forever, and I’ll become a distant memory.

Haven walks in, and I stare at her with nervous eyes. She looks amazing decked out in a crisp white sundress. Her face reflects she’s at peace and happy. She has the life she dreamed about: a gorgeous husband and a child. Both seemed out of her reach for years because of a past relationship that left her traumatized. I didn’t believe she would recover, but somehow, Latch saved her. They saved each other.

“So can I give you the usual crap now or do you want me to wait until later?” she asks, a spark of humor crossing her face. I look up as I twist my hands and take a deep breath. I know what she’s going to say. It has become a ritual every time Keenan and I come to visit.

“You have that glow, girl. Tell me. Are you knocked up again or have you and Latch just done the deed?” I tease and add, “By the way, where is the lord of the manor?” This is hardly the time for joking, but if I’m not my usual quirky self, she’ll sense something’s wrong.

Haven shoves my shoulder and flashes a stern warning while rolling her eyes. “Shut up,” she whispers. “No, I think one child is enough. I already have two if you count Latch, I suppose. He’s in the shower and will be down shortly. I can’t believe it’s been five years. He’s frickin’ thirty, Weezie. Time really flew by. I rather miss you, you know. No matter how much I love it here and how happy I am, I miss our girl time. Sometimes, Skyping doesn’t cut it.”

I cringe. I know what’s coming. Haven goes into her yearly embrace. She calls it a hug; it’s actually more like a stranglehold. We lived together for years, and having so much distance between us has been rough. But I’m glad she’s content and has the life she always deserved.