To Scotland With Love (11 page)

Duncan pushed himself off the stool he'd been sitting on. “I'd better go check on Mattie.”

Graham put his hand up. “You stay. I'll take care of Mattie. Caitie, watch the pasta for me.”

When he left the room, Cait touched Duncan's arm. “Hey, I'm sure you heard about what happened with Mattie out on the pier. I'm sorry.”

“No, it's my fault. I should've explained the situation to you.” Duncan gave her a sincere smile. “No harm's done. Forget about it.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Before da gets back—where's the puppy? Is he okay?”

“Deydie took him to Moira's. Moira has a huge crush on that dog. Are there any left in the litter?” She'd been toying with the idea of getting one for Moira and her da.

“Several. I'll get you the number,” he said.

She thought out loud. “I'd have to be sneaky. I could arrange food and vet care without Moira and Kenneth finding out. You won't tell, will you?”

“Never.” Duncan laughed, sounding so much like his da. “You're a good person, Caitie Macleod.”

“Why, thank you, Duncan.” She did a little curtsy for him.

Graham cleared his throat. “What's going on in here?” He sounded aggravated, as if Duncan had played with his favorite toy without permission.

“Geesh, Da. Nothing's going on,” Duncan said defensively. “I'm going to join Deydie and put my feet up, too.”

* * *

Graham decided it was time to make things perfectly clear to Caitie. About what, he wasn't sure.

That she belonged to him?
Certainly not.

That he didn't want her flirting with anyone else?
Maybe
.

The only thing he knew for sure was that he needed to have her alone.
Now.
He turned to her and pointed the way. “Come to the wine cellar.”

He was a man on a mission, wound tight. As she passed, his eyes glued themselves to her ass. Down the stairs, he stayed mesmerized by her sashaying hips in those tight brown trousers. With just enough stretch to drive him crazy.

That she'd been chatting up his son while Graham was out of the room made him that much more determined.

When he reached the bottom step, he about ran into her—the minx didn't have any rear brake lights.

She came to a standstill. “This is amazing. Did you do all this yourself?”

“Aye.” He looked about the room, trying to cool his jets. He'd designed the large game room for his family. Three pinball machines, an arcade basketball hoop game, a pool table, foosball, Xbox, and a bouncy ball pen for Mattie. The remainder of the room he'd filled with guy seating—beanbag chairs, gaming chairs, and an extra-large sectional sofa. “Follow on through to that hallway.”

When she turned to look back at him, he was awestruck by her simple beauty. This lass wasn't Hollywood; she was an ocean sunset. It took everything in him not to reach out and fondle the brown curls that rested on her shoulders.

“In there.” His voice sounded husky. As they walked through the doorway, he tried to pull himself together, but he felt himself unwinding.

“It's an old English pub. I love the wooden bar,” she exclaimed.

With Duncan in mind, Graham had stocked it with every imaginable beverage. His hope of his son using this space for parties or poker nights with friends faded soon after Graham finished the house. There was plenty of seating, stools against the bar, tables scattered about the room. Duncan could've had a grand time here. But, no.

Graham took the lead to where an old wooden door stood. He'd reclaimed the wood from his father's cottage and used it for this entryway and for other pieces of furniture about the house.

She reached out and ran a slender hand down the worn mahogany. “This looks ancient.”

Never in his life had hands looked sexier. The way hers slid on the door, gentle and soft, made blood rush downward to his aching groin.

He'd explain about the damn door later. Right now, he had to get her inside. He grabbed the old key from the top ledge of the doorframe, unlocked it, and flipped on the switch. “In,” he commanded.

He saw her take in the expanse of his wine cellar, which spanned aisle after aisle, using up a good portion of the lower level. He reached around her and slammed the door shut.

“Sorry. Temperature controlled, right?” She had nervous excitement in her eyes, and it drove him wild.

“To hell with the temperature,” he hissed, and backed her up against the door she liked so well. He kissed her. Hard. It was an
I don't want you flirting with another man, even if it is my son
kiss
.

She grabbed onto his shirtfront, clinging to him for dear life. It only made him tighten his hold. He didn't
know why he had to have her in this way. He never lost control, always the reserved gentleman. But kissing Caitie Macleod brought out his inner brute. He shouldn't be so attracted to her, and he shouldn't be sending out mixed signals either; but he couldn't help himself. He had her here now, and by God, he meant to properly take advantage of it.

He tugged at her clothes and she tugged back.
Thank the heavens, he would have his release.
But in the next second, she pushed away from him and stumbled from the room, not looking back.

G
raham sat on one of the kegs and put his head in his hands. He never should've done it. If she hadn't gotten up enough strength to stop them, he would've been convulsing inside her right now.

On so many levels, she was wrong for him. He was the guy who kept it loose with women, clear from the start that he'd never commit.

With Caitie, though, it felt like all bets were off.

He'd have to stay away from her or, at the least, stop kissing her.

Shite.
That wouldn't be possible. He
would
kiss her again. And again. As much as he damn well pleased.

Just this once, he'd break his own rule and not be so honorable. He'd lead her on to get what he wanted from her.
Complete satisfaction
. He was male, after all, and wasn't that what men did?

He grabbed a bottle of red wine and went back upstairs. She stood over the meatballs, stirring the heck out of them, mumbling to herself loudly.

“What gives him the right to kiss me like that? I have a box of sympathy cards to remind me that Y chromosomes are nothing but a heap of trouble.”

“What?” Graham said, even though he'd heard every word clearly.

She spun around and glared at him. He tried looking innocent, but he'd been the tomcat and she'd been the canary. Well, it'd tasted damn good.

She flipped a meatball at him.

He ducked, a little sauce landing on his shoulder.

“What was that for?” he said, giving her more of his innocence.

She glowered at him as if her brain waves were lethal. “No more kissing.” She paused for a moment, looking a bit perplexed. “Without my permission, anyway.”

He conjured up his most effective smile. “My only excuse is that I couldn't help myself.”

“I don't want to talk about it anymore. End of story.” She turned back to the sauce.

He grabbed paper towels and cleaned up the splatted meatball from the floor. “I should've left this for Deydie. And when she asked who'd done it, well, you'd be sorry then.”

“I am sorry, but not for what you think. I should've catapulted a steak knife or two in your direction instead. Now, get back to work,” she ordered.

* * *

Cait felt flushed—not from standing over the stove but from the searing kiss in the cellar.

As Graham drained the noodles, he got serious with her. “How do you think Duncan looks today?”

She laid the spoon down and turned to him. “Truthfully? I think he looks a little under the weather. Maybe it's the short winter days,” she suggested. She was glad they were discussing a safe subject.

“I've never seen him like this.” Graham frowned
while running water over the pasta. “After the New Year, I go on location. I'll be gone for a few months. If he still looks tired when I get back, I'm going to insist he see a doctor in London. He's a stubborn man, my Duncan, but I'm stubborn-er.” He poured the pasta onto a platter and looked satisfied to have come up with a plan. “Let's serve supper.”

Cait looked at him and he beamed back. In that moment, her resolve slipped a fraction. Staying close to him, she might slip further. “I'll get Mattie and the rest,” she said as she hightailed it out of the kitchen.

She found Mattie in the parlor all alone, standing over Precious's empty fluffy bed. He was breathing hard; then he sniffed and wiped his nose. She wanted to go to him and wrap her arms around his small frame, but the moment seemed too intimate to interrupt. She stepped back out of the room quietly. “Mattie,” she called from down the hall. “Go wash your hands. Dinner's ready.”

When she went back into the kitchen, she quietly spoke to Graham. “Go find Mattie and give him a hug. He's missing Precious.”

“Bluidy hell.” Graham sighed. “They had a special bond. I should've thought about it when he got here. Sometimes I can be a selfish prick.” He squeezed her hand before he walked out of the room.

She gathered up the plates and silverware and made her way to the smaller dining room. It took only a few trips to fill the table with their food. One by one, they all made their way in and sat down.

Dinner, despite Duncan and Graham's tiff earlier, turned into a huge success. There was a lot of laughter, except from Mattie, who remained quiet and thoughtful.

When they were done, Deydie insisted on getting
Mattie upstairs to his bath and Graham cajoled Duncan into resting before the movie. Cait worried Duncan would fight his da on it, but he didn't seem to have the energy. By the time Graham and Cait had finished cleaning up, Mattie was in Spiderman footy pajamas.

They all went into the media room and sat down. Cait settled in next to Deydie, but her gran shooed her away. “Give me some room here. I intend on stretching out.”

Cait chose a recliner in a row of eight. Mattie, with his green plaid quilt in hand, crawled into one of the recliners next to hers. She situated the lap quilt over him. He smelled of baby shampoo and freshly scrubbed boy. He relaxed back, sinking into his chair like a favorite pillow. Nonchalantly and without looking at her, Mattie reached out and took her hand.

An inexplicable peace overcame her. He was such a tender little boy, and her heart ached for him. A small voice inside of her said,
You need one of these. A child.
Once she sold the article about Graham and got her career ironed out, she'd seriously consider having a baby of her own. In the meantime, though, she was content with holding Mattie's hand.

Duncan settled into a beanbag chair, stretching out, looking ready for a nap.

Graham shut off the lights and the big screen lit up with
White Christmas
. A second later, he claimed the recliner on the other side of her. He reached over her and caressed Mattie's head for a moment.

“He's a great kid, isn't he?” Graham whispered.

Before Cait could answer, Deydie turned around and gave them both a “Shhh.”

Cait felt like she was on a first date, wondering if Graham meant to hold her hand, too. He didn't disappoint
her. Before the wall fell on Danny Kaye, Graham had taken her hand.

She got butterflies that made their way down and fluttered into her panties. Almost immediately, Mattie began snoring softly, and his hand slipped from hers. She tried concentrating on Bing Crosby singing and not on the warming sensation pulsing through Graham's hand to hers. Then he really messed with her by rubbing small circles into her palm.

She tried to pull her hand away, but he tugged back. She leaned over. “Stop.”

The word had barely left her mouth when he kissed her, very softly, very quickly.

Deydie turned around again. “Don't make me take the broom after ye two. Now, be still.”

Graham laughed and brought Cait's hand to his lips.

Her heart pounded, and for a moment, she couldn't think clearly. Then she wanted answers.
Why is he doing this?
His heart wasn't available—he'd said so. And she'd already told him she wasn't interested.

Determined this time, she tugged her hand free and sat on it. She chanced a glance at him and he was smiling at the screen, but she knew he was laughing at her.

For the rest of the movie, she was acutely aware he was there, but he didn't try to touch her again. As the credits ran, Graham got up and leaned over as if to pick up Mattie. He whispered into her ear, “You look at home with a bairn next to ye.” He gently picked up the limp boy and turned to Duncan. “I'll lay Mattie down. Do you want to stay also?”

“No,” Duncan said gruffly, like his da should've known the answer to that one. “I'll be up to get Mattie as soon as I'm done with the nets in the morn.”

“I'd like to go with you,” Graham proposed. “I haven't been out on the water in a while.”

“No,” Duncan said unequivocally. “I like to do things on my own.”

The air had become dense with tension. With those two at it again, Cait felt uncomfortable. She wanted to say something, but then Graham spoke up.

“All right, then,” he conceded. “But don't worry about rushing back here. Let me keep Mattie for a while. I'll return him after lunch.”

“Fine,” Duncan said and left the room.

Deydie stretched. “That boy is hardheaded. He needs help with those nets.”

Graham looked at Cait. “Would you stay in the guest room tonight? I'm going to help Duncan anyway. You don't mind, do you?”

Cait looked to her gran.

“I don't know why ye're looking at me,” Deydie complained. “Ye've spent several nights here already. I didn't have a say
then
. Why would I have a say
now
?”

“Aye,” Graham said, not giving Cait a chance to answer. He nodded toward Mattie in his arms.

“Oh, all right,” Cait said, a little worried about her resolve. She turned back to Deydie. “What about that thing we're watching—”

Her gran cut her off. “Never you mind.”

Graham walked to the door of the room but turned at the last minute. “Deydie,
Holiday Inn
next or are you done for the night?”

“I'm no spring chick, but I can stay up for more Bing.” Deydie had a mischievous grin on her wrinkly face.

“Caitie, meet me in the kitchen. We'll make snacks.”
Graham left with Mattie, and she stood there looking after him.

What a presumptuous man.
She had two choices—be obstinate and go to bed upstairs alone or stay downstairs and watch one of her favorite movies. Cait found it hard to hold to her principles when her favorite part of Christmas was watching and rewatching all the holiday flicks.

Cait grabbed Mattie's green plaid quilt and laid it over Deydie's feet. For her thoughtfulness, she got little more than a grunt.

Then, just as she was leaving the room, Deydie placed her order as if Cait were the waitress. “Bring me back some cheese and crackers. The white kind.”

“Yes, your hiney-ness.”

“That cheek,” Deydie warned, “will get ye in trouble.”

Cait left and found Graham at the counter in the kitchen, filling a tray with fruits and veggies. He looked up and gave her a lazy smile.

She hurried to the refrigerator. “Deydie wants cheese and crackers.” She hated that she was so flustered. That one smile unnerved her. And excited her. She grabbed the fridge door for support.

He came up behind her. “The Manchego's in the dairy drawer. I keep it for her.”

“You're good to my gran. I'm grateful for everything you've done for her.” Cait could actually feel the heat coming off him. Or maybe it was just the refrigerator cooling her front. She was so confused.

“I'm the one who's grateful,” he said. “Because of Deydie, Duncan was able to stay here in Gandiegow and have a normal life. Between my da and your gran, they convinced me to leave the boy here while I worked.
When Da was out on the boat, before Duncan was old enough to go with him, Deydie and the quilt ladies worked in shifts to change his nappies, bandage his scraped knees, and spank his backside when he needed it. They did a great job and deserve the credit for the man Duncan is. And they did the same when Mattie's mum dropped him off as a wee one, only days old.”

Cait didn't know where to start with the questions. “Where is Mattie's mother? Who is she?”

“Her name doesn't matter. Duncan met her on holiday in France before he started university. She's one of those women who likes to jump out of planes and climb mountains,” he said, a cross between disgust and being distraught.

Cait started to object that women could be thrill seekers, too. But Graham put his hand up.

“I'm not being sexist,” he explained. “Selfish is selfish. She's older than Duncan by ten years, besides. She liked her life as it was and didn't need him. When she got pregnant, she wanted an abortion. Duncan dropped out of university and kept Mattie. I told him I'd get him a nursemaid and a house in Edinburgh, but he's always been independent and didn't want my help. He's a fisherman, through and through. Like my Da and his da before him. I'm glad of the choices he's made. But I've had the means to make his life easier, and he simply refuses. I wish at times . . .” His voice trailed off as he looked out the window, even though it was frosted over. “Anyway, Mattie's mother relinquished her legal rights, dropped him off, and disappeared on a 'round-the-world trip. Duncan's never heard a word since.”

“Oh,” was all Cait could say. She wasn't the only one who'd been used and discarded.

“Are you okay?” Graham asked.

“Yeah.” She straightened up and put a smile on her face. “Where're the crackers?”

“The pantry, left side,” Graham said. “I'll grab a knife for the cheese.”

Back in the media room, Cait leaned back in her lounge chair, thinking. Graham set the tray in front of Deydie, who looked half-asleep.

He filled a plate for himself, turned on the movie, and faded the lights.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked.

“Such a gentleman, huh?” she remarked. “What if I told you it was?”

“Not such a gentleman then.” He sat beside her, balancing the plate between them. “Orange slice?”

She shared from his plate as Bing sang, and Fred Astaire danced. Deydie began to snore. Loudly.

“Romantic, isn't it?” he teased. “Do you have a remote for her?”

“Shh,” she chided.

They watched some more, as Bing worried over the success of his Holiday Inn, but the snoring became unbearable.

“Let's go into the parlor,” Graham suggested.

They snuck out from the room and relaxed on the sofa in front of the fire. Precious's bed still lay there, and Cait wondered if Dingus would be allowed to use it.

“How are you adjusting to being back in Gandiegow?” he asked. “It's a much slower pace than you're used to.”

She laughed. “Do you know how busy I've been? I haven't had a moment's peace since I arrived.”