| |
––––––––
Even hours later, Mairi still wasn’t sure if she was pleased Jonas had interrupted her moment of weakness with Keir, or mad as hell. Her girl parts were definitely mad, but her brain was thankful. It had been a close call. Ten more seconds and she would have climbed on top of him and bonked his brains out on the hood of his car—in the parking garage of a hospital.
“I’m really annoyed with you,” Mairi told Jonas, who made a mournful noise that she assumed was an apology. “I don’t care if you’re sorry. You were bad. Very bad.”
She sounded like she was talking to a five-year-old. Give her another couple of minutes and she’d make him sit in the naughty corner. This was what her fake boyfriends did to her—they turned her into a school teacher surrounded by problem children. It was one of the many reasons why they should have remained online, where they belonged.
“He said he was only saving you from yourself,” Sebastian translated for his friend. “I agree. You can’t afford to be swayed by the mechanic’s muscles and tattoos. There’s more to a relationship than a six-pack.” He patted his slightly rounded stomach, which was covered by a t-shirt with a Stormtrooper and the words Underneath, We’re All Different on it.
Mairi cocked an eyebrow at him. “Really?”
Sebastian flushed. “I could have a six-pack, but I choose to spend my time exercising my brain, not my body. Good looks fade, but intelligence lasts forever.”
“I feel like I’m in an episode of The Big Bang Theory and I’m Penny,” Mairi said.
That set the guys off into an enthusiastic debate about whether Sheldon suffered from Asperger’s. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard before; they spent a lot of time analyzing the cast on that show.
They were in the Highland Pub in Campbeltown. Mainly because Mairi couldn’t take another evening under siege in her tiny apartment, so had invited the men to the pub after they’d dropped Gladys back at the home. Thankfully, it was a Tuesday night, so it was quiet. There were only one or two regulars in the pub to stare at the group in bewilderment.
The boys had pulled several tables together in a long line under the large wall-mounted TV. Most of them were wearing jeans and t-shirts emblazoned with geek slogans. One of the twins, Damien, was wearing a suit—because it was a night out, and when you went out, you wore a suit. She’d just patted his head and moved on. Then there was the Wookiee.
She glared at him, and he warbled again.
“You know,” Sebastian said, “if you’re kissing people to see if you have chemistry with them, you should keep it fair and kiss each of us.”
It was as though someone had put the pub on mute. All eyes shot to her.
“Do I look like something you can try before you buy?” She stood and slapped the table. “No. I am not kissing everyone. I’m going to go sit at the bar for a few minutes to give you time to think about the wrongness of that idea.” Damn it, she sounded like a kindergarten teacher again.
Past caring, she stomped over to the bar. A glance at the clock told her they’d been inside exactly ten minutes, not even long enough to get in a round of drinks. Time was slowing around the men. If she didn’t get rid of them soon, she’d end up trapped in some sort of Groundhog Day cycle, where she wasn’t allowed to move on until she picked one of them. Or—she eyed their numbers—she could just wait until they all got bored of chasing her. They’d lost a few of the group already, due to discouragement or lack of interest on their part—because her obvious lack of interest was gamely ignored. One of the guys had gotten lost in Glasgow when his scooter couldn’t keep up with the pack. Surely, it was just a matter of time before the rest wandered off too. She looked over at them and shook her head. Who was she kidding? The remaining men had settled in for the long haul.
Mairi climbed onto a stool beside the bar, which wasn’t easy, because the stools were made for giants, not normal people, like her. No matter how hard people tried, no one could convince Mairi that five foot two was anything but normal, and woe betide anyone who uttered the word “short” in her presence.
“I need a drink,” she told Ewan McKenzie, Keir’s cousin and owner of the pub. “Something strong.”
He slammed a can of 7UP in front of her and cocked an eyebrow.
“Oh, come on.” Mairi picked up the can. “You can see what I’m dealing with.” She pointed at the guys. Two of them had calculators out, as they figured out how much each person should put in the pot to fairly spread the cost of a night on the town. Their words, not hers, because Campbeltown wasn’t actually big enough for anyone to have a whole night on it. They hadn’t even ordered a drink yet, and if they kept arguing over how to split their costs, they never would.
“Aye, I was wondering about that.” Ewan frowned at the men. “What’s going on?”
“I’m on a date.”
“With all of them?”
“Welcome to my life. Now, please, give me alcohol.”
“You don’t get alcohol. Not after the last time. You’re lucky I let you back in my pub.” Ewan folded his arms and glared at her.
“Don’t be such a sissy. People get drunk in here all the time. If you cut everyone off that did, you wouldn’t have any business.”
“You’re the only one that starts a fight every time you get drunk.”
“Twice. I did that twice. And to be fair, it wasn’t really me. It was Agnes.”
He snorted. “It was both of you.”
“Well, Joanne Granger shouldn’t have called Isobel a whore.”
“I agree, but you shouldn’t have jumped on her back and tried to pull out her hair, either. You can’t argue your way out of this. You’re on soft drinks or nothing at all. Be grateful I let you in the door. Other pub owners wouldn’t have.”
She popped the tab on the can and gulped the 7UP while she gave him the death stare. He didn’t even flinch, which made Mairi think she might be losing her touch.
Arguing broke out behind her, and she looked over to see that one of the men had produced a whiteboard marker and was using the window to explain how to divide up the cost of their evening. Mairi groaned.
“You going to deal with that?” Ewan said.
With deep reluctance, Mairi climbed—okay, possibly fell—off the stool and dragged herself over to the men. She put her fingers in her mouth and whistled. There was instant silence.
“Enough! Order drinks now. Divide the total bill at the end of the night. That’s the way other people do it. That’s the way you’re doing it. Sebastian, take their drink orders and come to the bar.” Amir opened his mouth to say something, and Mairi held up her hand. “Don’t. Not another word. Just order.”
She stalked over to the bar and climbed back up onto the stool, which took three attempts. When she looked at Ewan, he was suspiciously straight-faced.
“Can I get a snack? Is that allowed?” Mairi asked.
“Sure. As long as it isn’t something you can throw.”
“I hate McKenzies,” Mairi grumbled.
A hand landed on her shoulder, and she knew it was Keir even before she looked up. “Thanks, Rusty, that means the world to us.” He sat on the stool beside her.
She glared at him. He didn’t have to climb up. No, he just sat, because he had freakishly long legs, which meant the stool was at a convenient bum height.
“Ewan won’t let me have alcohol.” Mairi had no problem selling Keir’s cousin out. “Sort him out, will you?”
“Sure,” Keir said with a twinkle in his eye that did strange things to her stomach and made her clench her thighs together. “But I can’t take on family for just anyone. I could do it for a wife. A wife would definitely take priority over a cousin. You about ready to make that decision?”
“Wife?” Ewan’s eyebrows shot so far up his forehead that they almost made it to his hairline.
Keir gestured at the men. “They’re here to marry her. Someone hacked her business page and told her fake boyfriends that she wants a real husband. They don’t plan to leave until one of them wins. I volunteered to sacrifice my bachelor status to get her out of this mess. She doesn’t appreciate it.”
She just growled at him.
Keir grinned at his cousin. “Isn’t she cute?”
“Like a kitten,” Ewan said.
The kitten was preparing to unleash jaguar-sized claws, when Sebastian elbowed his way between Keir and Mairi, flashing a glare at Keir as he did so.
“I would like to make an order,” he said to Ewan, who just stood there, staring at him.
Keir smothered a smile, and Mairi fought the urge to hit her head on the bar.
“Does he speak English?” Sebastian asked her. “Or Gaelic? I can’t speak Gaelic, but I’m sure one of the guys does.”
“He speaks English. He’s just being a moron. Order the drinks.” She gave Ewan a pointed look, and his shoulders slumped.
“What will it be?” he said.
Sebastian looked down at the notepad in his hand. “Three Chardonnays, one Sex on the Beach, three cosmopolitans, one piña colada, one Blue Hawaii, three raspberry ciders, three low-alcohol beers, three shandies, four Red Bulls and one Guinness.”
When he’d finished giving the order, his eyes remained down, and his cheeks flushed. It took a second for Mairi to realize he was embarrassed by the order he’d given and expected to be ridiculed by Keir and Ewan. Hell no. Not on her watch. She sat up straight, her eyes going from Sebastian to the cousins, who shared a grin. Just seeing that look made her want to hit them.
“Don’t you dare say anything,” Mairi said. “A person can drink whatever they like. Who decided some drinks were girly and some were manly, anyway? If a person likes how something tastes, then nobody else has the right to comment.”
“Whoa.” Ewan held up his hands. “I run a bar. I don’t give a crap what anyone drinks. And trust me, I’ve seen it all. The gang leader who’ll only drink Earl Grey tea. The knitting club members that order top-shelf whiskey. All I care about is that no one gets too drunk and starts a fight in my pub.”
“That was years ago,” she snapped. “Forget it already.”
“It was nineteen months and two days ago,” Ewan said. “It was a Saturday. There was light rain and a northerly wind. You were wearing a fluffy pink jumper.” His eyes narrowed. “A publican never forgets.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, get the boys their drinks,” Mairi said. “And don’t act so self-righteous. I saw you two grinning at Sebastian’s order.”
“Not the order,” Keir said, and grinned at his cousin. “The Wookiee.”
“Aye,” Ewan said. “We’re wondering if he’s going to take the mask head off to drink.”
“That reminds me,” Sebastian said. “I’m going to need an extra straw for the Chardonnay.”
The cousins laughed, and Mairi rolled her eyes. “Is there one man left on this planet who isn’t an overgrown child?”
The men stared at each other before Sebastian turned to her. “I honestly can’t think of one.”
“Nope,” Keir and Ewan said at the same time.
“Mairi, my Scottish flower,” Amir called to her. “Come over here. We want to be talking to you about what you are needing in a husband.”
Mairi stood, perching on the rung of her stool, leaned over the bar and grabbed Ewan’s wrist. “If you feel anything for me at all, even a hint of friendship, please, turn off the football and put on the Sci-Fi Channel.”
Ewan let out a sigh, grabbed the TV remote and changed the channel. Doctor Who filled the large screen, causing a cheer.
“Oh,” Sebastian said. “It’s the one with van Gogh. This is my favorite.” He looked back at Ewan. “I’ll be back for the drinks.” Then he hurried over to the rest of the guys, who were now in a viewing trance.
“Bless you,” Mairi said. “Now give me something to eat. If I can’t drink, I need chocolate. Got any chocolate cake?”
“I’ll say it again,” Ewan said. “This. Is. A. Pub. We have bags of nuts, bags of crisps, and beef jerky. Take your pick.”
She looked at Keir, who was clearly amused. “Any chance you’d go to the corner shop and get me some chocolate?”
“No.” He leaned into her and put his mouth to her ear. “But I will take you out of here and get you fish and chips on the way home. Maybe even ice-cream for pudding.”
Oh, it was so, so tempting. After Jonas the Wookiee had snatched her out of the carpark and ruined their lunch plans, she’d ended up eating a soggy tuna sandwich in the hospital waiting room. It had been hell. Although, without the daisies this time.
“I can’t leave the boys,” Mairi said on a sigh.
“Rusty, they’ve forgotten you’re here. They’re arguing about who was the best Doctor. They’ve even forgotten they ordered drinks.”
Mairi bit her lip as she looked over at them. It had been an extremely long day. They’d barely settled Gladys back at the rest home before the boys were harassing her to do something romantic with them. She’d suggested the pub, because it was the least romantic place she could think of, and the boys had been very enthusiastic. Apparently, hanging out in a real Scottish pub was on their list of cultural experiences to be had while wooing her. Keir was right: she had lost their attention to the Doctor.
“Okay,” she said. “But I want cake, too.”
“You got it, gorgeous. Anything you want.”
Mairi wished that were true. Because in that moment, she wanted time to reverse and to find herself back in bed with Keir all those years ago. Only this time, she wouldn’t let him leave. This sort of thinking was exactly the reason she’d spent years avoiding him. He was like a tick. He burrowed under your skin and there was no way to get him out. Next thing you knew, you were running a fever and wondering if you were going to survive. She put her hands to her cheeks. Yep. They were flushed. The fever had started already.
“Let’s go,” she said grumpily as she launched herself off the stool.
This was what her life had come to. She could spend the evening with the only man she’d ever trusted enough to love—only to have him betray that trust—or with a crowd of geeks who lost interest in her as soon as Doctor Who appeared. At least Keir promised her cake.
“There had better be chocolate at the end of this ride,” she said as she stalked toward the door.
“Don’t worry, Rusty, I’ll take care of you.”
Her stomach somersaulted at his words, but she knew he didn’t mean them. Not the way she’d felt them deep inside. In a place that shouldn’t be feeling anything for Keir at all.
He put his hand on the small of her back and led her to the exit. His touch seared, and Mairi fought back her reaction. He didn’t mean anything by it, and she couldn’t afford to lose her mind again, the way she’d done in the parking garage. Kissing him had been a mistake. It had dredged up feelings that were best left buried and opened the door to desires she’d long ago locked up tight. It was best for both of them if it never happened again.
At the door, she glanced back at her men—not one of them had noticed she was leaving.