Page 77 of Wild Scottish Beauty

“He is a grump, isn’t he?”

“Brrrp.”

“Well, let’s see what we can do to change that.”

“Brrrraaaap.” Calvin stood and bumped his head against my chin, rubbing his face against mine.

“You’re seriously cute, you know that?” Gathering the cat in my arms, I raced inside, ducking my head against the rain. Once in, I slammed the door behind me with a laugh. Ramsay was crouched by the fireplace, building a fire, and I took a moment to admire his butt.

I mean, I wasn’t dead, okay? The man was seriously built. Thick muscular legs led to a perfect bubble butt, and his broad back showcased his strength. I mean, he’d carried me easily around, and I was no lightweight. Remembering the number of times he’d already lifted me easily in his arms sent a shiver down my back, and I took my bag to the desk, before hanging up my coat and depositing Calvin on his cat jungle gym.

At the strike of a match, I sprawled in the chair next to where Ramsay crouched at the fire and dangled my head near his.

“I’ve always loved a fire. It’s cozy, isn’t it?”

Ramsay grunted.

“How was your night? Did you get a good night’s sleep?” Maybe I was crossing a line asking about his sleep, but we’d moved over the line into friendship category when he’d invited me to the dance. Or at least that’s what I’d thought.

“No.”

“Ah, that explains the mood.”

Ramsay didn’t move, just turned his head to skewer me with a look.

I grinned.

“Is tetchy the word I’m looking for here?”

“Bloody hell.” Ramsay rose and disappeared into the back room, switching on lights as he did so. I got up and followed him, determined to pester him back into his slightly less grumpy self. There was an edge about him today that made him unreadable, and I wanted to set us back on an even keel.

“No? What about crabbit? I learned that one recently too.”

Ramsay glowered as he flipped the switch by his sewing machine, mumbling something under his breath.

“What was that? I didn’t catch it.”

Ramsay ignored me, continuing his routine of flipping all his lights on, and I moved to the doorway that led to the kitchen, knowing he was going to make tea. He always brewed a pot for us in the morning. When he stepped close, assuming I would move, he pulled up short when I didn’t.

“Move.”

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? I promise you’ll feel better.”

“Move, Willow.”

“Nope.” I grinned up at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I’m not in the mood for this.”

“Aw, come on, Ramsay. Give it up. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Move. Or I’ll make you move.”

I just raised an eyebrow at him, and when he reached out, grabbing me beneath my elbows and lifted me, I couldn’t help it.

I giggled.

“Oh, you think this is funny?” Ramsay’s face was closeto mine, his expression furious, and I desperately wanted to lean forward and sink my teeth into his bottom lip. Ramsay stepped backward, moving me out of the way, while my heart pounded and my gaze remained transfixed on his mouth.

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