Page 24 of Wild Scottish Fortune

Not hard at all.

He’d spotted us upon our arrival, nodding to a table by the fire, and we’d settled in, Sophie, Agnes, and Shona joining us shortly after our arrival. The pub was half-filled, some men tucked at the bar to watch a match turned low on the telly, and Celtic music lilted lightly in the background. The fire took away most of the chill, as the fog had descended on our walk to the pub, and I was grateful for its warmth. A quick bite, a drink, and I’d be home soon enough to feed Goldie, who seemed ever patient with her varying dinner times.

If a fish could be considered patient, that is.

“Well, now, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Graham stopped at our table, crossing muscular, tattooed arms over his chest, his grin widening as his eyes landed on me. I hadn’t much chatted with him in the past, having only come in for a meal with my crew, and now I was surprised at the heat that stirred inside me as he focused his attention in my direction. Damn it, but the man was seriously good-looking. “An entire table full of the prettiest ladies this side of Loch Mirren. Surely my luck is changing, and the gods have decided to smile upon me once again.”

“Och, wheesht, Graham. It’s a ladies’ night, can’t you see?” Agnes, a slim woman with a springy crop of curls and a mile-wide smile, glared at him.

“I see well enough, don’t I, darling? And what kind of man would I be if I didn’t express my appreciation for the beauty bestowed upon me on this dreich night?”

“I know it’s his thing and all, but it’s very effective.” Sophie fanned a hand in front of her face. “Go on, Graham. Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“And likely a fist planted in my face by Lachlan.” Graham chuckled.

“Well-deserved at that,” Agnes said.

“Och, darling, I can’t still be in the bad books with you now, can I?” Graham focused his attention on Agnes, and I noticed something shift in his expression. Longing flashed behind his eyes before it was quickly shuttered, and I wondered what the story was there. Was Agnes out of her mind? Surely Graham would be fun to date, no?

“That you are, and you well know it.” Agnes sniffed and studied the menu, though even I knew the contents of the menu having been here a few times already. Agnes ran a bookstore in town, and I suspected she could recite the menu by memory.

“What did you do now?” Sophie asked Graham.

“He had two American lasses through here the other night. Helped them both home, didn’t he then?” Agnes arched an eyebrow at him.

“They weren’t sure how to get there, what with the foggy night and all,” Graham said.

“Loren Brae’s not so small that Google maps doesn’t work here.”

“It’s important to be hospitable,” Graham insisted.

“Two of them?” Shona, a quiet woman with long blonde hair and luminous blue eyes, shook her head. “Fair play to you, lad.”

“You’re on his side then?” Agnes leaned over to Shona.

“I am on no sides here. Though I am failing to see the issue that Graham, a seemingly unattached man, went home with a woman.”

“Women,” Sophie corrected, sweetly, and Agnes bristled.

“Of course he can do what he wants. If he wants to be a loose man.”

“I thought you were a progressive woman, Agnes,” Lia said. “Are you slut-shaming Graham?”

“Och, it’snotslut-shaming.” Agnes slapped her menu down. “I’m just suggesting, as an owner of a business in town, that he act with some decorum.”

“Surely helping my clientele to not get lost in the dark is a gentlemanly service?” Graham beamed at Agnes, and I stifled a laugh. Whatever was going on here, it was amusing to watch.

“Oh, it is. It is,” Agnes conceded with a sigh. Looking around the room, her eyes lighted on two handsome young men, Americans by the flags on their backpacks, and she smiled. “It’s foggy tonight again. Will you be helping those lads home as well?”

“If they need it,” Graham said, not missing a beat.

“Or maybe I should.” Agnes tapped a finger against her lips, a considering look on her face.

“I’m sure I can direct them.” Amusement had left Graham’s face. Agnes stood, easing past me, and crossed the room to stop at the lads’ table, while Graham fumed at ours.

“Do you drink wine, Orla?” Sophie asked.

“I do.” Every once in a while. I wasn’t a big drinker, in general, as I didn’t typically like feeling out of control.

---