Always You By Samantha Young PDF Free Download

Always You By Samantha Young Summary

Always You (The Adair Family Series Book 3) Arrochar Adair has loved her brother’s ex-bodyguard and best friend, Mac Galbraith, for years. Once upon a time, she was too young for him, but now that she’s a mature woman in her thirties, Arro can see no issue with their difference in age. Yet something deeper, a problem much more difficult to surmount, is keeping them apart.

Mac Galbraith remembers clearly the night Arro became everything to him, no longer just his best friend and boss’s younger sister. However, having made many mistakes over the years, there is one mistake Mac is determined not to make: to believe that he is worthy of Arrochar Adair. Allowing them to grow closer during his daughter, Robyn’s, return has proven his undoing. And when Arro forces the subject of their relationship, his response pushes her away. He just never meant for it to destroy them completely.

Devastated by Mac’s final rejection, Arro is determined to move on without him in her life, though he seems intent on staying put. And when the Adair family face a new threat, one that may have ties to Mac’s past, Arro can’t seem to be rid of the man. In fact, Mac will do anything to protect her.

But with so much hurt between them, will Arro let Mac close enough to guard her from their enemy… before it’s too late?

About the Author

Samantha Young is the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of over forty books, several of which have been nominated for Goodreads Choice Awards. She writes adult contemporary and paranormal romance, YA urban fantasy, and YA contemporary fiction. Her books have been published in 31 countries. She resides in Scotland.

Always You By Samantha Young Introduction

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

ARRO

PRESENT DAY

Ardnoch, Sutherland

Scottish Highlands

For seven years, I’d watched the great hall of my family’s castle transformed for one event after another. Never before, however, had a moment felt so right as this one. I was walking down the aisle as a bridesmaid in my big brother’s wedding. Chairs filled the space on either side of the champagne-gold carpet runner. Old-fashioned lanterns punctuated each row of chairs, leading up and then around to the impressive staircase that led to a landing backlit by the floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows my brother had lovingly restored. On the landing waited Lachlan, Thane, our minister, and my nephew Lewis, who was adorable and handsome in his kilt that matched his father’s and uncle’s.

Thane’s daughter, Eilidh, flounced up the stairs, throwing the last of her red rose petals, the skirt of the flower girl dress she’d chosen bouncing dramatically to reveal her petticoat. As she’d intended. Lips twitching at my niece’s excitement, I watched her beam at her uncle and father, and my chest ached at the loving look both men sent her. Only a few months ago, both Eilidh and Lewis had been in a dark situation no child should ever experience, and I’d worried how we’d get them through it. But children were resilient, and to my everlasting gratitude, they seemed happy and content.

Regan Penhaligon, the younger sister of Lachlan’s soon-to-be wife, sashayed ahead of me in her maid of honor gown, and my gratitude extended toward her. I knew she had so much to do with Eil’s and Lew’s current happiness. She glowed in her silver dress, her hair a copper-red version of mine, styled in elaborately pinned curls. Regan took the stairs with ease, lifting her gown to do so, and envy scored through me at the smoldering look she shared with Thane before taking the position opposite him. As she reached for Eilidh’s hand, my niece snuggled into Regan’s side, and my brother looked so in love, he might burst with it.

I’d never seen this version of Thane. Not growing up, not when Fran was alive. Regan made him young in a way he never was when he was her age. They’d worried about their thirteen-year-age gap, but not enough to stop them. They’d tumbled headlong into their passionate love story because neither of them could see any other way.

It was a strange feeling, this mixture of joy and relief for my brother, at the same time knowing his love was the catalyst for the destruction of my own.

Stop it, I chided as I took the steps. I shoved away all selfish, melancholy thoughts and grinned at Lachlan, who smiled back tenderly. I shared another smile with Regan as I stood beside her. Today wasn’t about me.

I faced the wedding guests who came from all walks of life—villagers and friends we’d grown up with, actors, singers, athletes, well-known directors, writers, and the not-so-familiar faces of Robyn’s friends and family from Boston. And right there in the front row were my brothers Brodan and Arran, both of whom had returned to the family fold for the wedding.

Arran had been gone so long, there was tension among us all. But on such a happy day, I wanted to feel nothing but relief that my brother, closest in age to me, the one I’d chased after as a child, was safe and home. At least for now.

Our eyes met, and Arran gave me that boyish smile so like Lachlan’s. Then I lost his attention as it drifted to the bridesmaid walking past him.

Our friend, Eredine Willows, took the stairs elegantly in her silver gown. She had so much hair, the stylist had only pinned up half of her dark brown curls; the rest fell down her back. The silver fabric sparkled against Eredine’s golden-brown skin, and the dress molded to her lithe, elegant figure. She looked like a movie star or a supermodel.

It wasn’t just Arran who couldn’t take his eyes off her. Knowing how much she hated any kind of attention, I moved closer in silent comfort as she stopped beside me. Ery was followed by Robyn’s best friend from Boston, Jasmine, or Jaz, as she preferred. Jaz looked regal, the silver of her gown stunning against her umber skin, her braids arranged in an elaborate updo that made mine look boring.

How Robyn had chosen a metallic fabric and silhouette for her bridesmaids’ dresses that suited all our body shapes and coloring, I did not know. Maybe it was the photographer in her, and she just understood these things naturally, like she did composition and light.

And then there she was.

Robyn Penhaligon, soon to be Adair.

I’d already seen her, of course. We spent all morning together in a guest suite turned bridal room.

She somehow was the sexiest but classiest bride I’d ever seen in her fit-and-flare white dress. It had a deep sweetheart neckline masked by lace edging, and because of a wee bit of sheer material, it looked as if someone had artfully painted the lace on her skin. The sleeves were lace, skin peeking through here and there. The dress sculpted her body as if it, too, was painted on, and then it flared out from the knee into a train with delicate lace edging. I knew the back was daringly low, with silk button detail that accentuated a round arse perfected by running and MMA training.

She was stunning.

I looked at Lachlan, and tears threatened at the utter awe on his face as she walked toward him, holding his gaze. Had a man ever loved a woman as much as this? My chest tightened with the ache. No one deserved it more. To have this kind of love in his life. Lachlan had been looking after us all for years, for too long, and it was about time he had a partner who made him feel less alone.

Reluctantly, I looked back at Robyn, at the man whose arm she held as they moved down the aisle. I’d avoided him when he’d arrived to collect his daughter to give her away to his best friend and boss.

Mac Galbraith.

No way in hell did he look old enough to give Robyn away, but then he’d fathered her when he was barely sixteen years old. Robyn leaned into him as he murmured something in her ear, and she grinned, looking up at him with love. Mac never would’ve dreamed this moment would come.

But when Robyn arrived in Ardnoch a year ago, it was to see him. She wanted answers from Mac about his absence in her life, never knowing that her mother had sent back his letters and gifts. I’d been worried at the time that she’d come here to make him feel worse about their estrangement. Yet it had become clear how much Robyn loved Mac, how much she needed him.

Their reconciliation hadn’t been easy for many reasons, but they were too alike, too bonded, for it not to happen. No one could’ve imagined that in reconnecting with her dad, Robyn would fall in love with my eldest brother, or that Lachlan would fall so head over heels for her that he’d propose only months after their meeting, and insist on hurrying her down the aisle within the year.

But when you knew, Lachlan said, you just knew.

Their union provided the bonus for Mac that Robyn was now a permanent resident in Scotland. He wouldn’t have to say goodbye to her again. I knew that meant the world to him. He adored her.

For that reason, that love between him and her, between him and the rest of my family, I had a hellish future to look forward to. To pretend anytime we had to share a room that I didn’t despise him. Resent him. Wish I’d never laid eyes on him.

He was the source of nothing but pain.

And now humiliation.

I hated him.

Thirteen years between Regan and Thane.

Thirteen years between Mac and me.

If they could do it, so could we, right?

Naively, I’d assumed so.

But Mac had unequivocally shown me the error of my thinking. His reaction to what transpired between us weeks ago had been brutally humiliating, and I’ll never forgive him for it.

The memory scalded my throat, and he caught my gaze before I could look away.

The bastard had the audacity to look dejected.

I wrenched my attention from him and focused on Lachlan.

I focused on the way he couldn’t hide his eagerness to take Robyn from Mac, the way he broke tradition to pull her against him and murmur hoarsely, “You’re so beautiful,” before brushing his lips over hers.

At least he had his love.

And Thane had his.

If I couldn’t have mine, I could be grateful that the people I loved most had theirs.

Lachlan’s wedding planner had transformed the large dining room into a reception hall, filled with round tables, white tablecloths, lantern centerpieces, and twinkle lights galore. The dining room led to one of the club’s reception areas, but it, too, had been transformed. They’d installed a temporary dance floor, and while there was a deejay for later, Lachlan had hired a contemporary Scottish fiddle band who journeyed over from Orkney. They’d play after dinner, and I knew the guests would love the fast-paced, energetic folk music. We’d hired the band for an event prior, and they went down a treat.

All guests had been asked to leave their phones in their rooms or estate homes, and the only person allowed to take photographs was the wedding photographer. Lachlan didn’t want images of the wedding splashed over the front pages of every tabloid in the country. When he’d quit Hollywood to start the members-only club, he knew he’d always have one foot still in that world, but he was adamant his wedding remain private. The Adair family had been in the news enough these past few months.

I sat on one arm of the U-shaped top table. To Robyn’s right was Mac; Thane sat on Lachlan’s left. Regan sat next to Thane, followed by Eilidh, Lewis, and me on the adjoining arm of the table. We’d deliberately put the kids between me, Regan, and Thane because we were three of the four adults they went to most for everything, and weddings could be overwhelming. We wanted them to feel safe and happy after all that had happened to them.

Beside Mac was his ex, Robyn’s mum, Stacey. When she smiled, she was attractive, but unfortunately, she’d spent most of the day wearing a scowl. On the opposite arm of the table next to Stacey was Robyn’s stepfather and Regan’s father, Seth Penhaligon. I liked Seth. He was friendly, down-to-earth, and laid-back.

Robyn had gone through the painful dilemma of deciding which father would walk her down the aisle. After a long conversation with Seth, he told her to ask Mac. She told me Seth said that if she wanted Mac to be her dad for the rest of her life, then she had to treat him like it.

I thought that said a lot about the man Seth Penhaligon was. After all, he’d raised Robyn for most of her life. Unfortunately, since their arrival in Scotland, Stacey couldn’t have made it any clearer that it pissed her off Seth wasn’t walking Robyn down the aisle.

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Product details:

Edition	International Edition
ISBN	1915243041, 978-1915243041
Posted on	April 25, 2022
Format	pdf
Page Count	370 pages
Author	Samantha Young