A Laird to Hold by Angeline Fortin (best feel good books .txt) 📗

can hear any cries of passion other than yers, I’m no’ doing my job properly, lass.”

“You’re doing…just…fine,” she gasped each word when Connor resumed his work.

But nay, he could do better. Connor pulled back long enough to shed his jeans then fell between Emmy’s legs, pushing her knees high against her chest. He drove into her welcoming depths. Soon enough all they could hear was the sound of their blood pounding in their ears. Whispers of endearment, the groans of ecstasy, and finally their cries of release.

Then harsh panting breaths as Connor rolled onto his back next to Emmy and pulled her into his arms. “Nothing like a dose of healthy competition to make things interesting.”

“You’re a sick man, Connor MacLean.”

“Nay, lass, I’m a man in love with his wife,” he whispered close to her ear. “A man devoted to her pleasure.” His palm swept over her hip to her supple bottom. His heart ached at the thought of never touching his bonny lass again. Emmy had changed his life. Changed him. Anger and bitterness had once consumed his life. Now, because of her there was only happiness. How would his life change again if he lost her?

“Devoted, huh?” Emmy hummed.

“Aye, and with more than an hour more to show her just how much.”

Emmy lifted up enough to pull her sweater over her head and toss it aside. “Okay.”

“Just like that?”

“Who am I to argue with a man on a mission?”

Hugh

Nearly three hours of “napping” later, they met for dinner. Claire’s cheeks were rosy through the better part of the meal. A fact that amused Hugh to no end. He’d worked long and hard to keep the blush there.

Connor’s jesting comment about hearing strange noises throughout the afternoon had cemented it well in place.

They were playing cards in their suite after a long entertaining meal when a knock sounded on the connecting door.

“Can we come in?” Scarlett popped her head around then entered when they waved her in. Laird followed with Hermione in his arms. The toddler immediately begged to be let down and ran to the coffee table to retrieve the books they’d bought her over the last couple of weeks.

Scarlett looked at the array of shopping bags and clothes strewn over the back of the sofa. “Guess your afternoon was far more enjoyable than ours.”

Claire’s blush, which had begun to fade, blossomed handsomely once more. Much to Hugh’s delight.

“We went shopping and had a nice dinner down at the restaurant,” Claire told her primly, omitting how the space between had been spent.

“These onesies are adorable.” Scarlett held out one after the other and Claire joined her to ooh and aah over the baby clothes.

Laird sat on one of the two mohair club chairs facing the worn leather Chesterfield sofa, watching his wife with a fond smile playing at his lips.

“We should get you some to take back for the baby,” she said to Scarlett.

“I’d rather take home a hundred cases of disposable diapers.” They both laughed though Scarlett was clearly very serious. “But I suppose I should get her something to wear when we leave the hospital until we get home.”

Emmy dropped her cards and joined them. Sitting nearby, she drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them as she watched the ladies sort through the clothes. “You should get some of those gowns with the drawstring on the bottom. My mother always called them cinch-sacks.”

They all chuckled at the term, but Hugh’s eyes were drawn to his wife. His bonny Sorcha lit up with joy and laughter. He’d never really seen her socialize with other women and wouldn’t have thought her the sort to fall into giggles. But there it was, before his eyes.

Hugh threw down his cards and joined the group, sitting at the end of the sofa near Claire. Connor followed and took the other chair.

Emmy laughed. “Seriously! She claimed they were the most practical clothing ever for a baby.”

Scarlett smiled dryly. “My mother had me in designer dresses and patent leather shoes the day after I was born. Practicality never came into it.”

“I’ve never met your mother, but I’m sure she wasn’t that bad,” Emmy assured her.

“I hae.” Laird’s exaggerated rancorous frown prompted another round of chuckles. “By my word, ye’re better off no’ ha’ing the pleasure.”

Both women looked to Scarlett, but she only shrugged and didn’t argue the point.

“Well, you’ll have to have at least one outfit for the baby,” Claire informed her. “And a car seat. They won’t let you leave the hospital without one.”

“I suppose I could take an hour or two away from the hospital to do a little more shopping.” Scarlett cast Laird a wicked grin. “I know how Laird so enjoyed our last trip.”

Poor Laird, Hugh grinned in sympathy. Hugh had made a trip back to Inverness for more clothes, but all he owned hadn’t been enough to clothe four men for weeks on end. Purchases had to be made. Rhys had enjoyed it, but then Hugh had been told he’d always been the fashionable sort. As was Hugh. Connor had given in gracefully, but Laird had suffered through it with ill grace.

Still, he could laugh at himself, comfortable with the teasing.

These weeks of passing time with little else to occupy them beyond each other’s company had been some of the best Hugh had experienced since his arrival in this era. Claire had admitted the same. There was no pretense among them when they were gathered like this. No pretending to be something they weren’t, watching every word or action.

The camaraderie among them continued to grow. Something Hugh hadn’t considered when he’d first approached them. He’d found true friendship in Laird, Rhys, and Connor. A spirit