Page 5 of Gift-Wrapped in a Kilt

Rory sank back in his chair, sighing. "Naturally. Everyone talks to my wife."

"She listens without growling or scowling, that's why."

"Hmm." He picked up a pen, twirling it around his fingers. "Emery drove to Ballachulish to help Calli with her office computer." Rory glanced at the clock on the wall. "She's probably done by now and on her way home."

"I'll meet her there."

Jamie rose, and so did Rory. She raised her brows.

He grabbed his keys off the desk. "I'm driving you."

"But my car —"

"I'll ring Aidan and ask him to pick it up." Rory strode around the desk, gesturing for her to exit the room. "You're upset. I'm driving, no arguments."

Resigned to the fact no one argued with Rory successfully, no one except his wife, Jamie followed him out of the office and to his Mercedes S-Class parked along the curb. Much more posh than her old car, for sure.

Her brother stood by the passenger door until she'd climbed in and buckled her seatbelt.

As they drove down the streets of Loch Fairbairn, they passed the cafe.

Jamie tried not to, but her eyes insisted on searching for Gavin there. The table where they'd eaten lunch was empty. Gavin was nowhere in sight, and neither was the pickup truck he'd arrived in, the one he'd borrowed from Calli.

He hadn't come after her.

What had she expected? The man was an ex-Marine. He wouldn't rush after her to beg forgiveness and plead with her to marry him. Not the manly thing to do. Maybe he didn't want that, anyway. She no longer had any idea what he did want from her — or what she wanted from him.

Another man had made a fool of her. Would she never learn?

Jamie slumped into her seat, her head against the window, and watched the miles speed by in a blur.

Chapter Four

Gavin fidgeted in the metal folding chair, glancing around the trailer that served as the offices of MacTaggart Construction. His sister, Calli, and her husband, Aidan, owned the company together. Aidan had made her a full partner after they got married. This morning, Calli studied him from across the metal desk, her arms resting on its fake-wood surface. The sallow light from a desk lamp darkened her flame-red hair and emerald-green eyes.

"Are you planning to answer my question?" Calli said. "Sometime this century, I mean."

"Maybe." Gavin scratched his head. "What was the question?"

Calli gave him a long-suffering look. "Why did you give Jamie a credit card she doesn't need or want instead of asking her to marry you?"

"Oh. That. Yeah." He had no frigging idea how to answer, because he had no clue why'd he'd done it. He'd meant to pull out the ring box, drop to one knee, and pop the question he'd wanted to ask for a year. Longer than a year. Almost since the day they'd met. Acid roiled in his gut at the memory of the heartbroken look on Jamie's face when he'd offered her the credit card. God, he was such a stupid, stupid jerk.

And he had no idea how to fix this. So naturally, he was asking his baby sister for help. With a mental groan, he rubbed his forehead.

"Don't groan at me," Calli said.

Okay, more than a mental groan. Damn, he couldn't control his guttural noises any more than his dumb-ass mouth.

"Tell me the truth, Gav. Do you love Jamie?"

He made a probably rude face at his sister. "Come on, C. Would I be so messed up if I didn't?"

Calli drummed her fingertips on the desk. "Is this about Leanne or Afghanistan? Or both?"

"Neither, not really."

"You're lying." Calli waved a finger toward his head. "Your ears are turning red, which always means you're feeding me a whopper."

---