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Mairi settled Gladys in the treatment room on the first floor of the Beatson Cancer Hospital in Glasgow’s West End. Gladys was her usual stoic self as she sat back in her chair while the nurse hooked her up to an IV and attached the bag of chemo.
“Last one,” Gladys said with a smile.
“We need to have a party,” Mairi said. “A no-more-chemo party.”
“With those fancy drinks that have umbrellas in them.”
“And cake,” Reggie said.
“And pies.” Albert nodded.
“I’ll arrange it.” Mairi patted Gladys’ hand. “We’ll do it in a couple of weeks when you feel better.”
Gladys’ skin was paper thin, and you could see every vein running under it. For a second, Mairi’s throat tightened. She’d started volunteering at the old folks’ home because working from home had made her feel lonely, and she’d looked around to see where she could find company. An old folks’ home had seemed like a good place to find a captive audience for her sense of humor, and willing partners in any mischief she could come up with; so she’d walked into the home one day and informed them she was their new entertainment director. No one had kicked her out, and two years later, she was still hanging out at the home. The residents had become like family to her. She wasn’t sure how she would cope if anything happened to Gladys. Not after losing her sister Isobel to a crazy Scotsman who lived in London. She didn’t even have the routine of sending messages to her men all day long to distract her, because some demented hacker was out to get her. Mairi’s life was imploding, and Gladys looking weak was one more reminder that things were out of control.
“I’ll be fine.” Gladys put her hand over Mairi’s and squeezed it gently. “You’ve got a soft heart, lassie. The doctor says the cancer is going away. All that will happen today is what usually happens—I’ll feel tired, nauseated and downright grumpy.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Albert said. “We’ll look after you.”
“I know you will. See, I’m fine here. You’re a good girl, Mairi. You deserve every happiness, but you’re far too hard on yourself.” Gladys cast a glance over to where Keir was talking to the nurse. “One night is such a short amount of time in a lifetime full of nights. Do you really want one bad day to define the rest of your life? I see how you look at each other. Nobody will think badly of you if you give the rascal another chance.”
Mairi looked at Keir and felt that same bubbling in the bottom of her stomach she’d felt the moment she’d first laid eyes on him. She remembered it distinctly. She’d been in Campbeltown, going door to door along the high street looking for a job. Fed up, tired and seriously lacking in caffeine, she’d heard the roar of a motorbike as it pulled up outside the tattoo parlor. She’d watched in stunned awe as Keir parked the bike and climbed off. Her mouth had watered at the sight of him. Even back then he was muscled and inked. There had been a two-day growth of beard covering his jaw, and his chocolate colored hair was mussed from his helmet.
He hadn’t noticed Mairi as she stood there gawking at him. She wasn’t sure he’d seen anyone. But they saw him. The crowd had parted in front of him, allowing him a clear passage into the tattoo parlor. Mairi had watched him glide through the crowd, distinct from everyone around him. It was as though he was something else entirely. Something different and unique. Something other. Everyone around him seemed to scurry like squirrels, but he moved like a panther. Everything within her was drawn to him, and she knew, deep inside, that she’d found the man she was supposed to find. The one meant just for her.
So, she’d abandoned her job hunt, climbed onto the back of his bike and waited for him to return. It didn’t take long, as she suspected that someone inside the tattoo parlor told him there was a crazy woman sitting on his bike.
He’d prowled out, his coffee colored eyes heating with every step he took toward her. When he came to a stop in front of her, he’d brushed her hair from her face, sending electric pulses through her body, and then he’d given her a slow, wicked smile.
“Where are we going, Rusty?” he’d said.
“Wherever you want to take me,” she’d answered.
He looked over his shoulder and called toward the people who’d crowded in the shop door to watch them, their faces a mixture of awe and amusement. “Got a spare helmet, Stew?”
A few seconds later, one came flying and Keir snatched it out of the air. He’d put it on Mairi’s head and strapped it up slowly, all the while staring into her eyes.
“Budge up,” he’d said, and climbed on in front of her. He’d grabbed her hand and tugged up her against his back. “Hold on tight, Rusty. I’m going to take you for the ride of your life.”
Mairi had done exactly what he said, feeling his strength and heat against her as she pressed into him. The world had faded away as the bike roared to life. Not once did Mairi look back. She knew, without a doubt, that she was where she was meant to be. She was with him.
A fragile hand tightened on hers, bringing her back to the present. She blinked away the memories to look into Gladys’ understanding eyes.
“I know I should tell you not to let bitterness ruin your life, my girl,” Gladys said, “that storing up regrets is harmful to the soul, and maybe you should give the boy a chance to prove he’s grown up some since the last time. But I’m going to tell you this instead—take him to bed and have some fun. Worry about the big stuff later.”
“Gladys!” Mairi said. “That’s terrible advice.”
“I know.” Gladys smiled. “But look at those muscles. If I were thirty years younger, I’d arm-wrestle you for him.”
“And we’d beat him to a pulp,” Albert said as he glared over at Keir.
“Don’t I know it.” Gladys winked at Mairi. “Now go away. Have lunch with your boy there while I spend some time with mine.”
“I’ll go have lunch, because I’m hungry, but he isn’t my boy, Gladys,” Mairi said. “He blew that chance years ago.”
“Just make sure you aren’t cutting off your nose to spite your face, lassie.”
“Yeah, right. I’m going to take relationship advice from a woman who can’t decide between two men.”
Mairi pressed a kiss to Gladys’ cheek and wandered over to Keir, who was leaning against the nurses’ station counter. By the time she’d reached Keir’s side, Reggie and Albert had pulled up chairs on either side of Gladys, and each man took one of her hands. Mairi watched as they made Gladys smile and blush. The affection they held for each other was plain to see.
“Who knew a rest home was such a den of iniquity?” Keir said.
She glanced up to find him watching the three friends, with the same wonder she felt. Gladys wasn’t going through chemo alone, and when she got back to the rest home, the men would make sure she felt attractive and wanted, just as they had done throughout her treatment.
“Who knew you could use such big words?” Mairi said.
“Pest.” He tugged her wild hair. “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch while we wait for the treatment to finish. The nurse said Gladys’ll be here another two hours at least, and she’s got the boys to keep her company.” He looked around the waiting room. “Where’s the Wookiee?”
Jonas had been too shy to walk around Glasgow in his Wookiee outfit, so the rest of the guys had dropped him off at the hospital with Mairi.
“He went to the children’s ward to spend quality time with believers,” Mairi said. “His words, not mine. I think he just wanted to cheer the sick kids up. He does that a lot in his home town. They love him at his local hospital.”
Keir’s eyebrows shot up. “You speak Wookiee?”
Mairi couldn’t help but laugh as she held up a piece of paper. “He wrote me a note.”
Keir rolled his eyes. “Come on.” He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her toward the door. “I’m starving.”
His touch burned through her shirt and straight into her skin. Tingles ran up and down her body, demanding that she lean in to his touch. It was exactly the same reaction she’d had the first time he’d touched her—and every time after that. And it was the reason she’d kept her distance from him since he’d moved to Arness. One touch from Keir and her girl parts started screaming for attention. Her girl parts didn’t care that Keir had hurt her. All they cared about was getting some action.
The louder her body’s demand for more of Keir’s touch, the quieter her brain became, until all she could hear was the blood rushing through her veins. His touch was gentle but firm. His hands were big on her shoulders, reminding her of just how it felt to have them on the rest of her. When they’d been together, she’d loved that Keir was so much bigger than her. She liked feeling overwhelmed by his size and yet still feeling protected by it. And now, at a time in her life where everything she’d thought was secure was crumbling, it was tempting to turn into his arms and feel his strength around her.
But she couldn’t. She’d learned the hard way that his strength wasn’t to be trusted. He wasn’t someone she could rely on to be there when she needed him.
With gargantuan effort, Mairi shrugged out from under his hold and strode toward the elevators, already missing the warmth of his touch. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.” He followed her into the tiny space, smiling at the two nurses who shifted over to make room for them.
Mairi looked up at him as the lift doors closed. “It isn’t Gretna Green, is it? Because I told you, I’m not marrying you.”
The nurses choked as they smothered their laughs.
“No,” Keir said with long suffering, “it isn’t Gretna. It would be a bit hard to get there and back in two hours anyway.”
“You haven’t booked us a slot at the council registry office, have you?”
“No.” He folded his arms. A sure sign he was losing patience.
“No judge waiting somewhere to tie the knot for us?”
“We’re going for lunch. That’s it.”
“Good.” Mairi relaxed back against the wall. “I was worried for a minute.”
The female nurse nudged her male colleague before smiling at Keir. “If you’re looking for a wife, I’m available.”
Now, that was just rude. Mairi might not want Keir, but she was clearly with him, and a woman did not horn in on a man if he was with another woman. It was a universal law. Right up there with never using the last of the toilet paper while in the public loo with your girlfriends. Women had to respect each other, and this flirting nurse was flouting the rules.
“Thanks,” Keir said with a grin, “but I’m not through trying to convince my girl here that I’m a catch.”
“Well”—the blonde gave Mairi a once-over, before dismissing her—“when you are. Call the outpatient department and ask for Debbie.”
That was it. The woman deserved to lose her hair. Mairi took a step toward her just as the lift opened. Keir blocked her path and walked her back until she was up against the wall.
“Easy, tiger,” he said. “She was joking.”
“She was not.” Mairi had seen that look before. Other women often underestimated a short ginger woman, which showed a serious lack of commonsense. Because, hello! Red hair. It wasn’t there to make her look good. It was a warning to all competition that they would go up in flames if they messed with her. “She was being a bitch.”
The doors closed, leaving them alone in the lift.
“You’re jealous.” The satisfaction in Keir’s words made her eyes snap to his face, where a smug smile just begged for someone to wipe it right off him.
“I am not.” She glared at him.
“Are too.” He stepped in closer until his body was flush against hers.
Mairi felt the air leave her lungs. Her hands flattened on Keir’s chest, ready to push him away. Only she didn’t. Because as soon as she had all that lovely muscle under her fingertips, the temptation to touch, knead, explore was just too much.
“I am not jealous.” The breathy little whisper that used to be her voice stole the steel from her statement.
Keir nuzzled his way from her temple to her ear. “You are definitely jealous,” he whispered against her, making her shiver. “I like it.”
She sucked in a breath, just as the doors to the elevator opened and people stepped inside. There was giggling, and Keir moved away from her, leaning back against the wall at her side. Mairi tried to catch her breath as she scowled at the staring teenagers, who just giggled more.
“Our floor.” Keir’s voice had dropped an octave.
He took her hand, pulling her behind him, out of the lift and into the parking garage. It wasn’t until they were at his car that she realized she should have tugged her hand free. By then, it was too late.
Keir backed her up against the driver’s door, pinning her in place with his hips, and then he cupped her face and his lips descended on hers. There were a million things Mairi should have thought. Top of the list being “get your lips off mine.” But as soon as Keir’s mouth touched hers, every thought inside Mairi’s head vanished and her traitorous body took over.
Nobody on the planet kissed like Keir. It was like coming home and flying free at the same time. His lips were soft and firm, his movements slow and determined. He teased at the seam of her lips with his tongue, and Mairi found herself sighing into him. When he angled her head to take the kiss deeper, she was gone. There was only Keir and the magic he wove around them. Nothing else mattered. Not the past. Not the problems of her present, and not her fears for the future. Nothing mattered but Keir’s lips on hers.
♦♦♦
Keir’s mind was spinning with disbelief. After years, desperate to touch Mairi, he finally had her in his arms—and she was everything he remembered. Nothing tasted like Mairi. She was a combination of fire and spice and sunshine, all rolled into one. As her lips softened beneath his, Keir took the kiss deeper, swiping his tongue over hers and swallowing the moan she made in response. Her body went liquid against his, and he pressed in closer, determined to keep her exactly where he needed her to be.
He couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to be skin to skin, naked on a bed of cool cotton sheets, with hours—no, days—to spend driving her wild. Instead, he had her pressed up against a car in an underground parking garage. It wasn’t the most romantic location, but Keir still felt like he’d scored the winning goal in a World Cup final for Scotland against England.
He slid a hand over her shoulder and down to her hip, where he held her fast and tight against him, luxuriating in the sensation of her soft curves molded to his hard muscle. Her full breasts flattened against his chest, their nipples firm. Keir remembered well how sensitive Mairi’s breasts were and how much he’d enjoyed caressing them. With a desperate moan, he deepened the kiss, their tongues tangling and caressing in a sensual duel.
He was lost in Mairi. The world outside of her had ceased to exist. Which was why the roar didn’t register until it was too late. A large hand clasped Keir’s arm, and he was thrown halfway across the parking garage. He landed with a thud on the concrete floor, just in time to see the Wookiee wrap an arm around Mairi’s waist and lift her from the ground.
“Let go of me, Jonas!” Mairi tugged at the big, hairy arm.
The Wookiee bellowed and strode back toward the elevators, carrying Mairi under his arm as though she were a rugby ball.
“Put me down this instant,” she yelled. “I was in the middle of something. You can’t just pick a person up and walk off with them.”
The Wookiee let out a stream of irritated warbling, which had Mairi rolling her eyes. Keir was on his feet and running after them as the lift doors opened. A family of four stared open-mouthed as the Wookiee ducked his head and entered the lift. Mairi folded her arms, still suspended in his hold, and glared up at him.
“I am not happy with you, Jonas. This isn’t how a Wookiee would behave.”
The two young kids were awestruck, and one of them reached out to pat the Wookiee.
“You’re letting the whole Star Wars franchise down,” Mairi snapped as the doors closed.
“Let go of her,” Keir shouted, just as he screeched to a halt in front of the closing doors. He was too late, and the lift went up without him.
Before he headed for the stairs, Keir thumped the metal doors repeatedly with his fists. He was going to kill that damn Wookiee. The overgrown ball of hair had ruined one of the best moments in Keir’s life. Yeah, he was going to skin the big bastard and turn him into a damn rug for the living room floor. Then Keir would wipe his feet on him, every bloody day.