Mad About Plaid (The MacLaren Brothers Series 1)

Chapter 5

Lucy's pulse flew as fast as her feet could carry her. What an idiot! What was wrong with her? She never did stuff like that. Never. And here of all places, where she was supposed to be helping Riley. Oh, God. What if Ian called Byron? Riley would be fired. All because Lucy was a hard up dummy who couldn't keep her lips to herself.

Shutting her door, and flipping the lock, Lucy paced the length of her room, and then dropped into the chair. She was so embarrassed. And stunned by what she'd done. Ian MacLaren was like those little sugary flowers on cakes, the kind that everyone fights over at birthdays. She had to have it, had to risk it.

It was craziness, but in those few seconds that her lips touched his and she felt the warmth of his skin and breath, she had a moment of pure clarity where she knew it was right. She felt free, felt the joy in going for it, in not staying safely on the sidelines like she always did.

Oh, he wanted to kiss her, every cell in her body knew it. No man had ever looked at her that way, and the knowledge gave her more confidence and power then she'd ever known.

Once chaste kiss with Ian was better than any heavy duty make-out session with her ex-any of them for that matter.

"Oh my God. I'm losing it," she said, unable to suppress the slow smile spreading across her face.

Though she knew she never should have kissed Ian, her heart rose from the depths and soared. She, Lucy Jane Walker, the five-foot-ten-inch pet groomer and photography enthusiast, the girl who dreamed big, but repeatedly wimped out when it came to doing anything risky in life, had done something sexy and impulsive. And a whole lot risky. She'd taken a chance. And it felt really freaking good.

Of course, she'd done it masquerading as Riley...

Her smiled faded a notch. Riley was married. She wasn't a cheater. What must he think of her, of Riley? Smile gone, Lucy flopped back in the chair, her joy deflating. Figures. The one time she took a chance, the one guy who could make her do it, and it happens to be the worst situation possible.

Ian paced his room. The power was still out and his emotions still raged. His gaze lifted to the ceiling, thinking of what had happened up there. Just a kiss, he told himself. Nothing major. Nothing shocking.

But he sure as hell felt a shock. A fucking lightning bolt was more like it.

He needed a drink. Whisky. Straight up.

On the way to the side table, his big toe collided with the chair leg. Pain shot through the digit. Cursing, he grabbed his foot, trying to rub out the sting, then flung himself in the offending chair.

He never felt so out of control. And this wasn't like him. If the guys in his unit could see him now, they'd be stunned. They called him Flatline, a name given years ago, one that had stuck. Ian didn't get riled and if he did, he sure as hell kept a lid on it, didn't act on it or let it show.

Lucy, however, had shaken him up big time.

He leaned forward and poked at the few glowing embers leftover from the fire. Lucy hadn't been here twenty four hours and already it was a disaster. Failure, a word not often associated with his endeavors, suddenly seemed like a real possibility. And though she'd kissed him first, he'd wanted to take it one step farther. Several steps. A giant fucking leap.

Maybe his extended family back in the states was right. Maybe they should have sold the land and been on their way. Ian had no idea what he was doing or how to run a guest house.

No. That wasn't true. He had a plan, a goal. And he'd see it through. No second guessing.

He had to get things back on track, had to turn this disaster around.