Page 92 of Wild Scottish Beauty

“Of course we’d land on something good. Everything you design is brilliant.”

My heart stilled at his words.

“You really mean that?”

“Aye. You’re extremely talented.”

I blinked at him, and my heart trembled in my chest before it tumbled off the cliff into love. God, I loved this grumpy, impossibly handsome, steadfast man. I knew it was too soon to tell him that, so I just looked down at the iPad, heat flooding my cheeks.

“Thank you,” I said softly, not realizing how much I’d needed to hear those words. My father had always supported me, but in sort of a bewildered way, and my brother had demanded I leave this career on more than one occasion. To have a man I cared about, particularly someone who was successful in the industry, compliment me in such a manner made my heart swell.

“You should be proud of yourself, Willow. And I do think these designs are going to be popular with the tourists, though I’m not sure how I feel about the bum bags.”

“Fanny packs,” I grumbled.

“Bum bags. Or the pet bowties.”

“Those are going to sell like hotcakes,” I promised him.

“Nobody is going to buy a tartan bowtie for their dog.”

“Everyone is going to buy a tartan bowtie for their dog. Are you kidding me? Haven’t you seen how cute Sir Buster looks in his kilt?”

Ramsay rolled his eyes.

“Laugh all you will, but I’m going to win that bet.” We’d put money down on whether the tartan dog and cat collars would be one of the bestsellers, that is if Sophie agreed to stock them, and I was certain I’d win.

Ramsay grunted, but his eyes twinkled.

“All right, lass. Show me your program.”

Two hours later we’d hammered out a pattern we both liked, in red, grey, black, and white with the tiniest thread of blue running through. Sitting back in my chair, I smiled, pleased with the result.

“I dig it.”

“It’s nice. Even though I had to pull you back from pink.”

“What’s wrong with pink?”

“It’s not exactly a traditional kilt color.”

“I suppose.” I poked his chest. “Look at us. Agreeing on things. Designing together. Working together. And here you wanted nothing to do with me when I first arrived.”

“I still have my moments. If you change my music one more time…” Ramsay held a fist in the air and I laughed. “Right, then. I’ve got a meeting with Sheila to go over some store plans.”

“I’ll finish up here.”

“Dinner later?”

“Mmm, can we do takeout? I need to finish my outfit for the cèilidh.” The dance was tomorrow night, and all of Loren Brae was in a tizzy about it. It had been a long, cold winter, and with the Kelpies continuing to keep the tourism industry at an all-time low, the dance was a bright spot for everyone.

For me, as well.

I was part of this community now too.

People weren’t so scared to come in the shop anymore, I was beginning to learn the names of the locals, and I’d even been invited to join a book club at Agnes’s bookstore. Ididn’t read much, but when I was told audiobooks counted, I agreed to join. The first book was a vampire romance, and I idly wondered how Ramsay would feel about having some romance played at the shop. I grinned, imagining his glowering as I asked, and modified one of the dog collars to have a tartan floral rosette instead of a bow. Picking up my scissors, I cut a swatch of fabric to see if I could fashion a rosette.

Flames licked up the walls and I gasped, dropping the scissors.

---