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Morning sun streamed through the cheap curtains covering Mairi’s bedroom window, and she opened her eyes to find Keir lying on the bed opposite, staring at her.
“Creepy much?” she grumbled.
“Morning, gorgeous,” Keir said. “I’ll make you coffee in a minute, after I tell you the good news and the bad news. Which do you want first?”
She frowned at him. Why did he have to look so sexy? It was all kinds of wrong. The man didn’t have an inch of fat anywhere on his body. She knew this because he stripped off his shirt every chance he got, then flexed those bloody muscles of his in her direction. She wasn’t a saint. Her fingers itched to touch, and her lips itched to taste. Don’t even get her started on how much she wanted to bite. Her eyes slid down to his tattooed pecs. They were teasing her, daring her to nibble them. Especially the pec with the tattoo he hadn’t had when they were together, that tattoo she’d never gotten to taste, and it mocked her with the loss.
Keir McKenzie was pure temptation. That was why she kept him at arm’s length and why she should never have allowed him to stay in her home. Because the longer she was around him, the more she let herself forget that he’d ripped out her heart and stomped it into the dirt.
“Tell me the good news.” She tore her eyes from his chest. “I already know the bad news—you’re still here.”
“Ouch.” He grinned. “You know, they say antagonism between two people is a sign that one of them wants the other but insists on fighting it.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “You got something you need to share, Rusty?”
“Don’t call me Rusty.” It was the name he’d given her when they were a couple. It brought back memories of the times he’d teased her with a smile, or when he’d whispered it against her ear while he made her gasp for him. It also reminded her that Rusty was gone. She left the night Keir never came back to her. Now she was just plain Mairi.
“I almost forgot how grumpy you are in the morning.” He smiled like it was cute, which made her frown harder. “So,” he said, “the good news is I’ve shut the garage for the day, to dedicate myself to the role of your bodyguard.”
Mairi pressed her face into her pillow and groaned. “Why is that the good news?”
“Because the bad news is there’s a hot air balloon floating over Arness, with the words Marry Me, Mairi painted on it. The balloon’s attracted quite a crowd, and we now have people outside the building, sitting in deck chairs and eating picnic food. Looks like they’ve settled in for the day, which means when you set foot outside, you’ll be swamped by people. You need a bodyguard.”
“I’m in hell,” Mairi said.
“Only if hell is full of daisies,” Satan said. “You got another flower delivery. Apparently, someone posted on your Facebook page that daisies were your favorite. I thought it was irises, but what do I know?”
“Nothing. You know nothing. And it isn’t my Facebook page. It belongs to the demon who hacked me. Now leave me alone. I’m going back to sleep.” She put her head under her pillow and prayed that when she woke, this whole mess would turn out to be another bad dream. Between listening to the men sing awful love songs over a tinny speaker, and the knowledge that Keir was half-naked and within touching distance, it had been a long, long night.
“I need sleep,” she wailed.
“You need coffee, then you need to deal with your fan club.”
The sheets rustled as he climbed out of bed. She heard two footsteps, and then her bed dipped as he leaned over her. Mairi held her breath, aware of his hands either side of her head and his body caging hers. Even through her duvet, she could feel his warmth along her back. It took all of her self-control, and two fistfuls of sheet, to stop from turning over and pulling him to her.
“I can make this all go away, Rusty,” the devil whispered to her. “Just say the word, and we’ll ride over to Gretna Green and say our vows. You’ll be Mrs. McKenzie by lunchtime.”
Her heart thumped so loudly that she was afraid he could hear it. There had been a time when she dreamed of being Mrs. McKenzie. A time when she’d thought her future lay in Keir’s hands and that it was secure there. But that was before he’d proven her wrong.
“Go away, or I’ll set my fake boyfriends on you.” Her voice was muffled through the pillow.
He laughed, deep and low, the sound going straight through her body. “What are they going to do, gorgeous? Attack me with their plastic lightsabers? Bore me to death?” She heard him pull on his jeans and walk away. “You have ten minutes, and then I’m coming back to drag you out of bed.”
“Wait a minute? What time is it?” Mairi had a sudden panicked feeling she was meant to be somewhere.
“Eight.”
And then it hit her. “Crap. I need to get up. It’s chemo day.”
The air thickened, and she peeked out from under her pillow to see Keir standing beside her bed, looking scarily intense.
“You’re having chemo?” His voice was low and strained, which had the weird effect of melting her heart—a little.
“What? No. Weren’t you listening when I told Agnes?” Men! Did any of them pay attention when the topic didn’t directly involve them? “Not me. Gladys. It’s her last treatment, and I’m going with her to Glasgow. We normally take the bus. Any chance you could give us a lift, seeing as you’re hanging around anyway?” She would have smiled and batted her eyelashes to encourage compliance if she’d been more awake, but Keir wouldn’t have fallen for it anyway.
He let out a sigh. “You drive me crazy. You know that? What time are we picking this Gladys up?”
“Uh, soonish? The bus for Glasgow leaves at ten. But we don’t need to go that early. Can you phone Gladys and tell her to wait for us? And then wake me in an hour?”
The duvet disappeared from her body in a whoosh, leaving her cold.
“Keir!” Mairi tried to burrow under her pillow to escape the chill. “Put the duvet back.”
“I don’t know who Gladys is to call her, which means you need to get that sexy behind out of bed. I’m making coffee. You’re getting up.” He stomped out of the room.
When the door shut behind him, Mairi rolled to her back and stared up at the ceiling. He thought her backside was sexy? She smiled, then remembered that she was angry with him and had been for the past six years. The man was messing with her head. Again.
“Why me?” she moaned.
There was no answer.
♦♦♦
There was a knock at the interior door, the one leading down to the garage, as Keir made his way through the tiny apartment to the kitchen. He detoured to the door, hoping it wasn’t one of the fake boyfriends, because after a sleepless night in the same room as Mairi, he wasn’t in the mood to deal with more Star Wars trivia. He threw the door open and sagged with relief. It was his brother.
“There’s a Wookiee outside,” Sean said as he sauntered into the flat, eyeing Keir’s bare feet and chest. “And you’re nearly naked. Does that mean you’ve managed to wear the fair Mairi down?”
Keir snorted. “She’s driving me nuts.”
“She always drives you nuts. That’s why you’re still hanging around in this one-horse town. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself without Mairi driving you nuts. You’re made for each other. You’re a pair of drama queens.”
Keir filled the coffee pot, leaned back against the counter and folded his arms. “Thanks, your opinion means so little to me.”
“Welcome. Is there coffee?”
“You sound like Mairi. I’m making it.” He reached for the kettle. “I gather you met the boyfriends?”
“Not so much met as observed them, like I was a scientist studying life on Mars.” Sean grinned widely as though the whole thing was entertaining. It wasn’t.
Keir glared at him. “This isn’t funny. It’s annoying.”
“It’s perfect. It’s your chance to show Mairi that you’re better than her other options. Those guys make you look good.”
“Are you saying I need all the help I can get?” Keir said, aware of how sadly true that statement was.
“Aye, but chin up, bro—even with your lack of skill, love finds a way.”
The bedroom door crashed open as Sean was talking, and Mairi dragged herself into the kitchen. She smacked Sean on the back of his head as she passed. “It’s ‘life finds a way,’ numbskull. Not love. Malcolm would never have said love. He was a scientist.” She came to a halt in front of Keir. “Where’s my coffee?”
He shook his head at her. She was dressed in jeans and a red tartan lumberjack shirt, and her hair was wild. She looked feral. His woman definitely did not do mornings. “It’s coming. Try not to go rabid and kill someone while you wait.”
She glared at him, obviously deciding that the coffee would brew faster if she tried to kill him with the power of her mind.
Keir let out a sigh and looked over her head to his brother. “Who the hell is Malcolm?”
“Jurassic Park,” Sean said. “You need to watch something other than football.”
“Why are you here, anyway?” Keir asked his younger brother.
“That’s what I’ve been asking you all night,” Mairi said. “Is there coffee yet? I’m waiting for coffee. The coffee you promised me. Or is this coffee just another one of your lies? Like ‘I’ll be right back’ before you wander off in the middle of the night and end up in jail.”
Sean turned a laugh into a cough that fooled no one. “At least you two are talking about that night. That’s progress.”
Keir ignored his soon-to-be-deceased brother, reached behind him, grabbed a mug, filled it with oil-slick coffee and handed it to the beast. She grasped it in both hands and breathed deeply, and her eyes drifted closed. She almost looked as though she were in love. Over coffee. It was yet more evidence of life’s many injustices.
“So why are you here?” Keir asked Sean.
“I came to help you set up your website, remember?”
“Uh, no.”
Sean shook his head as he pushed past Keir to help himself to coffee. “No appreciation. And when I even brought breakfast with me.”
“Breakfast?” Mairi’s head lifted as her eyes opened and focused on Sean. “What did you bring?”
“Buns,” Sean said, looking a little nervous at the intensity of Mairi’s stare.
“Buns?” Mairi looked around the room, as though the buns would present themselves. “What kind? Cream? Jam? What?”
Sean rooted around in his messenger bag—or as Keir liked to call it, his handbag—and came out with a paper bag. He held it out to the beast. “Have at it,” he said.
Mairi snatched the bag, turned and headed for the table. Ten seconds later, she was stuck into a cream bun and a mug of coffee—she was in her happy place.
“I don’t need a website,” Keir said.
This was something he’d told his brother several times. As a recently graduated computer graphic designer, Sean thought everyone needed a website.
“Yes, you do. How else will people know when you’re open?”
“They’ll phone me.”
“Nobody phones anymore.”
“Sure they do. They phone me to ask me to fix their cars. Or upgrade their bikes.”
Sean stared as though Keir was a puzzle he couldn’t quite fathom. “It’s like you aren’t even in this century.”
Mairi held out her mug. “More,” she demanded.
Keir grabbed the pot and sauntered over to refill her mug. He’d learned early on when they were dating that there was no dealing with Mairi in the morning. She needed at least two hours to morph into a human being.
“You’re getting a website.” Sean sat at the tiny table and took a bun. “Now tell me about the guys outside. What’s with the Wookiee?”
Keir pointed his mug at Mairi. “He’s one of Mairi’s boyfriends, and he’s shy. Apparently.”
“Fake boyfriends,” Mairi snapped. “Why won’t anyone remember the fake part?”
“Okay.” Sean scooted his chair farther away from Mairi. “Which one are you going to marry?”
“None of them,” Mairi said at the same time as Keir said, “Me.”
Sean’s jaw dropped as he looked between the two of them. “You’re getting married? To each other?”
“No.” Mairi reached for another bun and bit off a chunk, while flashing Keir a defiant glare.
“Yes,” Keir said. “It’s the only way to make this go away.”
“Over my dead body,” Mairi muttered through a mouthful of food.
“I don’t think that’s legal,” Keir said. “You know, you could show a little more gratitude. I’m trying to help you here.”
“Is that what you’re trying to do?” Mairi frowned. “Thanks for clearing that up.”
There was a knock at the door.
“I wonder who that could be?” Keir said with heavy sarcasm as he sauntered over to open it.
It wasn’t a boyfriend—instead, it was a guy, dressed in a black suit and white shirt, who looked vaguely familiar. He held a massive bunch of balloons in one hand and a microphone in the other.
“I’m Danny Lowe, Josh McInnes’ most famous, and best, tribute act,” the guy said. “Someone called Derek hired me to sing Mairi a special song.”
He handed the balloons to Keir, who foolishly took them instead of releasing them into the sky. They didn’t go through the doorway easily. There was at least five minutes of both men struggling to wedge them into the room, where they bobbed up to cover the ceiling, filling the room with hanging string. Between the flowers everywhere and the balloon-covered ceiling, it looked like Valentine’s Day had puked in the Sinclair household.
“Mairi,” Danny said, in a suddenly American accent. “This one’s from Derek.” Then he launched into a pretty good imitation of Josh McInnes’ crooning voice as he sang “Fly Me to the Moon.”
“See what he did there?” Sean said to Mairi. “Balloons and a song about flying. That’s not half bad.”
With a groan, Mairi moved her mug out of the way so she could rest her head on the table. There was a strange few minutes where no one knew quite what to do, other than listen to the tribute singer giving it his all at the front door. When he’d finished, Danny reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a piece of paper.
“I need to read this to you.” He cleared his throat. “Derek would like the honor of becoming your husband.” He looked over at Mairi. “What’s your answer? I have a different song to sing depending on whether it’s yes or no.”
Mairi groaned again, this time louder, and Keir swung the door shut in the guy’s face. On the other side of the door, Danny started singing “Heartbreak Hotel.”
Keir battled his way through the hanging string, stepping over vases filled with daises, and made it to the table. “I’m calling Gretna and booking us in. This has to stop. You can hardly move in here.”
“No. I’ll deal with this. I just need more sleep first.” Mairi’s eyes were closed.
“He’s a good singer,” Sean said. “Probably the best fake Josh McInnes money can buy.”
Outside the window, a male wailed, “Nooooooo.”
“Guess that’s Derek,” Sean said.
“Kill me now,” Mairi said, her eyes still closed.