Rain

There were a number of moments over the last few weeks where I stopped and asked myself, “How on earth did I let this happen?”

“This” being my relationship with Craig. Because that’s what it was spiraling into. An actual relationship. Just like he’d said he wanted. And just when I’d start to remember all the other important things in my life, Craig would turn up on my doorstep, making everything but him disappear around me.

“You have an annoying habit of distracting me,” I’d said to him last night while we lied in bed after making love.

Last night was a Wednesday, it was a week since he’d ravished me against my hallway wall, and jt was one of his nights off work. He spent most of the day and the whole night with me.

“Good,” Craig had replied, rolling me onto my back to have his wicked way with me. Again. Not that I was complaining. I’d gotten more orgasms out of this one man than my four boyfriends before him put together.

I wasn’t sure if the distraction of him was good or not. What I did know was that when I was with him I felt free in a way I hadn’t felt. Ever.

That was profoundly terrifying because as well as the sensational sex, no man had ever made me feel so valued.

I stood in my doorway that morning, a mug of coffee in one hand and a tea in the other and I stared at him as he slept in my bed on his stomach. He really was goddamn handsome. The kind of goddamn handsome that still kicked up butterflies in my belly when I looked at him.

“You’re staring,” he muttered, which made me jump, hot tea spilling down my left hand.

I hissed in a breath and Craig’s eyes flew open.

“You alright?” He pushed up from the mattress, apparently fully awake.

I nodded, scowling at him as I wandered over to hand him his coffee. “Do you make a habit of pretending to be asleep?”

Taking my cup of tea out of my hand and putting both his coffee and it on the bedside table, Craig took my injured hand in his and said, “Do you make it a habit of watching me sleep?” He kissed the hot skin and looked up at me. “I think you’ll live.”

I tried not to add that sweet gesture to the growing tally of things I was beginning to adore about him. “No thanks to you,” I teased, brushing his rumpled hair off his face.

Craig grabbed me around the waist, hauling me down onto the bed with him. I let out a squeal at the abrupt movement and giggled as my head hit the pillow. He braced himself over me and stared down into my face, something like wonder in his expression.

“What?” I said, bemused.

“I will never, ever tire of looking at you,” he replied, his words mirroring my earlier thoughts about him.

“You are such a sweet talker.” I brushed it off.

I really believed that Craig liked me and was enjoying the monogamy. At the moment. But tomorrow? Who knew? There was a part of me that believed he was going to wake up one day and realize how absolutely bored he was with the idea of just one woman.

Glaring at me, Craig sat up, straddling me so I couldn’t move out from under him. He crossed his arms over his chest, the muscles in his biceps flexing. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It meant what I said. You’re a sweet talker.”

He grunted. “Last time I checked, according to you that’s not a good thing.” His anger suddenly melted into weariness. “I thought we were done with the whole bit where you don’t believe me when I give you a compliment?”

“I do believe you.” And I did.

“But?”

“No but.”

“Rain.”

“Craig.”

“Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You’re the most exasperating woman I’ve ever met.”

“Not true. You’ve just not stuck around long enough to discover the exasperating side of women. We all have that side. Just like men have their obtuse side.”

Craig ignored my teasing, his eyes narrowing. “I’m not having the conversation again, Rain.”

“What conversation?”

“The one where I tell you that I’m not messing around here. That I plan to stay as long as this lasts between us.”

And that was exactly the problem. To me it sounded like he was only going to stick around until we hit a road bump, whereas I was willing to stick around beyond the arguments and inevitable issues that would arise. And that was really the problem. I was a romantic. He was a realist.

And I was falling for Craig. I was. I couldn’t help myself.

Which meant that I could think of him with forever in mind, knowing we’d face problems and that I’d fight for him. I’d fight to get through it.

I could promise him forever.

But he couldn’t promise me forever.

He said he was a realist . . . but what if he just didn’t feel the same way as I did?

“What is going on in that head of yours?” He braced his hands at either side of my head again and leaned down so our noses were only inches away from each other.

Melancholy was sweeping quickly over me. “I’m thinking our tea and coffee will be getting cold.”

“Liar,” he whispered against my lips. “What are you really thinking?”

I turned my head away from his. “I’m thinking you don’t get to know what I’m thinking all of the time.”

He grasped my chin and gently turned my head back so our eyes met. I saw a mingling of anger and frustration in his gaze.

“You don’t like that,” I whispered.

“No,” he said back. “I don’t like it.”

I did. I liked it. It meant that I was still in control of what I was allowing myself to give him. I was being smart because this man would hurt me worse than any who had come before him. I may have been falling in love with him, but that love was mine to give how I saw fit. And as far as I was concerned he wasn’t a safe bet. I was not putting any of my cards on the table just yet.

“I don’t like it,” he repeated, a stubborn set to his jaw.

I tilted my chin out of his hold. “Tough shit.”

Craig was so surprised by my words he didn’t make a move while I rolled out from under him to sit up and grab my tea. I felt the heat of his stare on the back of my head.

“Did I do something?”

I felt a little ache in my chest at his confused, sad question. Looking over my shoulder I found him still sitting where I’d left him, but this time his expression was troubled. It was like he was wounded but trying to hide that he was.

That ache in my chest worsened. I gave him a soft reassuring smile. “No. I’m just tired.” I reached for him, trailing the back of my fingers down his arm. “I’m being a cranky bitch.”

He sighed and then moved across the bed toward me. He wrapped his strong arms around me, pulling my back against his chest. His warm lips touched my cheek. “Liar,” he breathed, his teeth nipping at my earlobe. “But I’ll let you keep your secrets. For now.”

Before I could respond his phone started ringing. Closest to it, I grabbed it from the table and handed it to him. Still holding on to me, he read the screen and smiled. “Maggie,” he said.

His sister. The one at university.

“Hiya, darlin’,” he answered. I could hear the faint murmuring of her answer. “Why did you not tell me you were coming?” Then more murmuring. “Aye, of course. I’m bringing Rain though.” I raised an eyebrow, wondering what I was being brought to. Craig laughed. “Well it had to happen some time.” More murmuring. “You’ll find out today . . . Okay. See you then.” He hung up and edged around the bed to face me, grinning. “That was Maggie.”

I smiled. “So I gathered.”

“She’s home with Mum for a few days. Wants to catch up. I thought you might like to come meet her.”

“Today?” I frowned. “I’d like to . . . but I can’t stay for long. I have work to do.”

“Just for lunch, then?” He slid an arm around me, hauling me up against his chest. “You’re two of my favorite people. I really want you to meet each other.”

That was nice. More than nice actually. I found myself melting. Damn willpower. “Okay. I can do lunch.”

* * *

“Jesus Christ, how did you score her?” were the first words I heard out of Maggie Lanaghan’s mouth. She slapped her brother on the chest and grinned. “She’s way out of your league.”

Craig gave a long-suffering sigh as we stood in front of the Italian restaurant, D’Alessandro’s. “Rain, this is my annoying wee sister, Maggie. Maggie, this is Rain, my girlfriend.”

Like always, a little thrill ran through me at those words. “Nice to meet you.” I stuck my hand out to her.

“Och none of that.” She stepped into my space, wrapping her arms around me for a hug. I could do nothing but laugh and hug her back. “We’re practically sisters now.” She winked mischievously and then laughed when she saw Craig scowling.

“You trying to scare her off?”

Maggie raised an eyebrow. “Actually I was teasing you, but it looks like . . .” She shook her head in amazement and turned back to me. She raised her hands and bowed liked I was some kind of deity.

I laughed.

“Maggie, for fuc—”

“Seriously. Miracle maker.” Maggie cut Craig off. “Finally a woman has done the impossible and snared my whorish big brother. I don’t know which one of you I’m most proud of.”

Craig wrapped his arm around her neck, drawing her into his side and scrubbing the top of her hair in irritated affection. “Nice to see you, Mags. Now do you want to shut the fuck up?”

I laughed as he led her inside the restaurant in a headlock.

Maggie was everything I had been expecting and more. From the pictures I’d seen in Craig’s flat, she looked like her mother, a tall brunette with pretty features and gorgeous bone structure. She wore her long hair in a messy half-bun half-ponytail. Her skinny jeans were old and faded at the knees, and she wore a University of Aberdeen hoodie that was two sizes too big. Even grungy she looked gorgeous. However, according to Craig her personality couldn’t have been more different from their mother’s. He said where Karen was reserved and had a quiet, quick humor, Maggie was clearly the opposite—loud, cheeky, and mischievous. And it was pretty apparent that Craig adored her.

Once we were seated at a table for lunch Maggie stared at me a long moment.

“Is there something wrong?” I said, touching my styled hair.

“No, you’re just seriously fucking beautiful.” She looked at Craig. “You said she was gorgeous but she’s seriously fucking beautiful.”

Craig laughed, that laughter deepening when he saw me squirm uncomfortably in my chair. “Aye. But you might want to lower your voice. You’re embarrassing Rain.”

“Sorry.” She shrugged and I had to wonder if she really was sorry. “It’s just I assumed when my brother finally got tagged by a bird it would be some cheap, plastic, orange-tanned Barbie with no personality. Not some 1940s pin-up.” Her eyes washed over me and she looked back at Craig. “I think I have a girl crush on your girlfriend.”

He rolled his eyes at her antics. “Right. We’ve got it. You approve. Now stop embarrassing Rain. I mean it.”

Maggie grinned at him and then looked at me. “I’m sorry. Honest, I am. I’m just excited! This is freaking cool!” She smacked Craig on the arm. “My big bro all loved up.”

“And are you?” I asked her, hoping to change the subject.

This elicited a snort from Craig’s sister. “Me? I’m always loved up. I’m a bigger manwhore than my brother.”

“Oh no,” Craig groaned and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Subject change. Now.”

I shared a secret smile with her. “How’s uni going?”

“Great! Except I’m skint all the time.” She pouted comically. “Not so good. But! I love coming home because big bro always takes me out to eat. It’s a nice break from noodles and beans on toast.”

The waiter arrived to take our order, stopping us mid-conversation. Once he was gone, Craig narrowed his gaze on his sister. “I told you to phone me if you need money. I’ll not have you starving up there.”

“I’m fine.” She waved him off, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I promise.”

He squeezed her hand back and I added another thing I adored about him to my list: He really, really loved his sister. His whole family, in fact.

While we talked about Maggie’s roommates at uni, a family at the next table became hard to ignore. Really it was their son who became hard to ignore. He looked about four or five and he was being very loud. Extremely loud. And he was using his food as missiles.

“Toby, sweetheart, please stop. Sit nice and be quiet,” his desperately mortified-looking mother urged.

Maggie, who kept stopping to glower at the boy, eyed Toby as he said, “No. Fuck off!”

His mother drew in a breath, looking ready to cry.

“Toby, is it?” Maggie suddenly leaned away from our table to theirs.

The mother went beetroot at the attention. Craig murmured at Maggie to sit back and was defiantly ignored.

“Yeah!” Toby replied, crossing his arms over his chest as if to say, “What’s it to you?”

“Have you ever heard of The Bed Brute, Toby?”

Toby shook his head. “What’s that?”

“It’s not a that. It’s a who.” Maggie said. “A monster, to be exact.”

“A monster?” Toby leaned toward her now, sounding intrigued.

“Yup.” She nodded, her expression deadpan. “The Bed Brute has a problem with children who are rude to their parents. He doesn’t like it, Toby.”

Toby’s expression fell.

“He especially doesn’t like children who say bad words to their parents. And if a child is rude a lot and says bad words a lot, The Bed Brute finds out. And do you know what he does, Toby?”

Toby shook his head, eyes wide.

“He waits for them to go to sleep and then he comes out from under their bed and snatches them away into the night. So if I were you, Toby, I wouldn’t be rude or say bad words to your mummy anymore.”

Toby abruptly burst into loud, terrified sobs.

Maggie gave the boy’s mum a wide smile. “You’re welcome.”

The horrified mother could barely speak in her fury as they sought to comfort her son, gather her other two children, and demand the check from the waiter.

Craig and I exchanged tight-lipped looks as the family scampered out of the restaurant . . .

And then we burst into our own horrified laughter.

“What?” Maggie chuckled, shrugging.

“You can’t say that to a child.” Craig shook his head, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

“What? I bet it works! The little shit won’t be telling his mum to fuck off anytime soon. Rain thinks it was brilliant, don’t you?”

I struggled to breathe, still not believing I’d actually witnessed what I’d just witnessed. “I think,” I giggled, “I think it was part brilliant, part awful. You do realize that child won’t sleep for weeks now.”

“Ach, so? We coddle kids too much these days. They’re turning into little arseholes. I should know—it started with my generation.”

We laughed again, my stomach starting to hurt a little, and I decided I might quite possibly have my own girl crush on Maggie. She was so wonderfully honest and real in a way I wasn’t brave enough to be. It just wasn’t who I was. That didn’t mean I couldn’t admire someone who could be like that though.

“Wait until Mum hears that one,” Craig teased as he scooped up a bite of his almost forgotten lasagna.

“Oh, don’t.” Maggie suddenly looked unsure. “You know she’ll think it was rude and I’ll get an hour-long lecture.”

“Maybe you need an hour-long lecture.”

“I get plenty of those at university. No lectures at home, please.”

“Fine. But no more traumatizing children.”

“I make no such promises.”

* * *

In the end I was having so much fun with Craig and Maggie that I decided to hang out with them for a little while longer. Craig didn’t need to be at work for a few more hours so we decided to go to Old Town. After wandering around in and out of shops, joking around, we stopped in at The World’s End, a pub on the Royal Mile.

I insisted on buying the first round—a wine for myself, and a beer for both Maggie and Craig. While I was waiting for the drinks, they found a table nearby.

I’d only been standing there a minute when I felt a strong arm wrap around my waist. I leaned back into Craig’s familiar heat as he pressed a warm and rather possessive kiss to the side of my neck.

“Need a hand?” he murmured.

I tried not to shiver and failed. “Sure,” I said softly, hating when he made me all hot and bothered in public. Mostly hating how easily he made me all hot and bothered in public.

He grabbed the two beers when they were ready and I carried my wine over to the table where Maggie was sitting.

She was grinning from ear to ear at us.

“What?” I smiled in bemusement.

“Him.” She pointed at Craig. “Possessive fucker. Don’t think he’s a gentleman, Rain. He only went up to help you because those three fit-as-fuck guys were checking you out. Still are.”

I followed her gaze to three guys sitting at a table across from the bar. They grinned at me and I looked quickly at Craig. Sure enough he was glowering at the men.

“This is brilliant!” Maggie clapped her hands in glee.

Craig snapped his attention to her. “If I didn’t love you so much, I’d kill you.”

“Aw.” She reached for him, pulling him down beside her and snuggling into him. “You can’t stay mad at me. I’m only joking!”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and picked up his beer. “Find some new material for your jokes.”

“Are you kidding?” She pulled away to stare at him in mock horror. “You falling in love is the best material ever.”

I tensed immediately but if Craig was perturbed by her words he didn’t show it.

“That just proves your low level of wit if you think that’s the best material ever,” he countered.

The two siblings bickered affectionately and although I stopped freaking out about what Maggie had said, I started to freak out that Craig completely ignored it. And then worse . . . as their obvious love and closeness became more and more apparent I started to miss Darcy.

Missing Darcy led to thoughts of why I was missing Darcy, which led to thoughts of Angus, which led to the reminder that I was completely and utterly messing up my plans for revenge.

Because of a guy.

Once more I’d selfishly put my sister aside for my own needs.

Well no more.

Craig had distracted me long enough.

Somehow I had to get the plan to destroy Angus back in action.

Even if it really was the last thing I wanted to do.

*   *   *

That night I called my sister, needing to hear her voice, needing the motivation to do what had to be done.

“Well the sun is out here, so it must be late there,” was the first thing she said when she picked up.

I smiled at the familiar sound of her voice. “You know me. Night owl.”

“I miss you,” Darcy said, sounding sad.

“I miss you too.”

We were silent for a moment.

Finally I said, “How are things over there?”

“You mean have I recovered yet from the sex tape scandal?”

I grinned at the dryness in her voice. She sounded a little more like her old self. “Yes.”

“I was doing okay. Good, actually. But the last couple of days have been difficult . . . I keep dreaming about him. About the party . . .” Her voice cracked and I winced.

Anger flooded me but I did my best to keep it out of my tone. “Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know,” she said hurriedly, and I could hear the lie in her words.

Worry crashed through me. “Darcy—”

“I drew up some new designs,” She quickly changed the subject. “I’m emailing them to you.”

I gave her the subject change without pushing any further, knowing she needed it, but inwardly my blood was hot and my throat was parched—my thirst for revenge on my sister’s behalf was back.