Beauty from Pain(98)

“That’s not written in stone, is it?”


Geez, this woman is bound and determined. “No, but it’s written on her airline ticket.”


She huffs. “I swear, McLachlan men don’t have a romantic or creative bone in their bodies.”


I hate that my mum has the wrong impression. “It’s not what you think it is between us. Laurelyn and I knew we’d only have three months together when we started seeing each other. We agreed to date for fun, not for love.”


“But the heart wants what the heart wants.”


“And yours wants another daughter-in-law and mother for more grandchildren.”


“My heart wants you to be happy, and I believe that girl is the one to do it. You have four weeks to convince her to stay.” She lifts her brows at me. “I suggest you get on that right away, son.”


We’re driving to my parents’ house after we get our things from the hotel and I remember my mum whispering something to Laurelyn. “What did my mum tell you at the hospital?”


“Oh, do you mean after the incident where I freaked her out by calling you Jack Henry?” She reaches over and frogs my bicep with her knuckle. Damn, it sort of hurt. “Thanks for the heads-up, by the way. Not.”


“Forgive me. I was a little preoccupied with the uncertainty of my dad’s survival. What did she say?”


“What she told me is our little secret, not for you to know.”


Great. My mum and the woman I’m having an affair with are sharing secrets behind my back. That’s not awkward at all.


Now, I’m more curious than ever. “Tell me. I want to know.”


“No. She would have told you if she wanted you to know.”


“She thinks we’re in love. Or at least have the potential to be.” I throw the words out like bait on a hook to see if I can get a nibble.


“You think so?” Dammit. I can’t tell by her tone if she’s asking my opinion or if she’s being facetious.


She isn’t budging, but I have my ways. I might not get what I want out of her by asking, but I have other methods of making this little bird sing.


39


Laurelyn Prescott


Margaret McLachlan’s words echo in my head as we drive toward her house. “The only way he’d let you call him Jack Henry was if he was in love with you.”


It’s a nice theory if he’d asked me to call him that, but he hadn’t.


He’s dying to know the secret I share with his mother. He’s going to try to persuade me to tell him later. He thinks he’s smooth, but I’ve learned his ways during our time together. It’ll be fun letting him try, but he won’t succeed. My lips are sealed.


Lachlan navigates up a long drive leading to a huge house on top of a hill. Maybe a mountain. I’m not sure because it isn’t nearly as impressive as the mansion sitting on it. “Is this where you grew up?”


“Yes.”


“It’s beautiful.” It beat the hell out of the tiny apartments and rental houses I bounced through during my early years.


Lachlan takes our bags from the car and carries them inside. There’s no his or mine. Our things are packed together in his expensive luggage so at least I don’t have to be embarrassed by my worn, mismatched set.


We enter through the foyer and I can’t help but stare at the beautiful spiraling staircase leading to the upper floor.


I hear his mother call out, but I can’t see her. “Jack Henry?”


“Yes, Mum. We’re here. I’m going to put our things away and we’ll be down in a minute.”


I follow him up the stairs and he takes me into his large bedroom. I’m a little surprised to see a four-poster bed. It’s very romantic and doesn’t fit what I’d expect to see in a man’s room. I walk over and run my hand down one of the thick pillars. We need this bed at Avalon. I could definitely do some interesting things with it.


We go downstairs to the living room to join Lachlan’s family and I remind myself the whole way that he’s not Lachlan. He’s Jack Henry. “Jack Henry.”


He turns at the sound of his name. His real name. The name only his mother calls him. “What is it?”