Page 38 of Scotch on the Rocks

“So this is where the magic happens.”

“Fuck—” My elbow slid out, sending the spoon from my empty bowl clattering across the counter. “You scared the shit out of me, Macabe.”

Shakespeare hissed, leaping to her favourite hiding spot atop the fridge. The very same spot she’d taken refuge last week when I’d attempted to administer her flea ointment. The ordeal resulted in a shattered vase, a hole in my favourite blanket and a five-inch battle scar down the length of my forearm.

Reclining in my doorway, Macabe gave me anoh so casualtwo-fingered salute, eyes bouncing around my tiny home.

“I expected more, I’ll be honest. Not a salt circle in sight.”

“Don’t you knock?”

He flashed his signaturejust decapitated the neighbours’ gnome collectionschoolboy grin. “I did. Three times.”

“And when I didn’t answer you decided to let yourself in?”

“Figured you could have been hurt.”

“And if I’d been in the shower?” I shot back, my chair screeching as I stood to deposit my bowl in the sink, right beside yesterday’s.

“Even better.”

“Do you take anything seriously?”

He stared at me for a beat. “When the mood strikes.”

I threw him a glare, opening my mouth to say … I don’t know, something rude and witty hopefully. But I finally noted the thick coat and grey knitted hat he sported. He looked –Macabe rules,I reminded myself before I could travel any further down that road.

“Sorry.” I shook my head. “You’re going out of your way to help me, I’ll try my best to curb the insults. It’s second nature when it comes to you.”

“No, please go on.” He rolled his hand for me to continue. “I love hearing how much you hate me first thing in the morning. Really kicks my day into high gear.”

“It’s not as though you like me.”

He only tilted his head, those depthless eyes tracking my features until I squirmed.

“Are you here for something?”

“Surely you haven’t forgotten our first date?” he said, brows pulling in. I followed his stare to my bare feet. My black-painted toenails were a little chipped and I curled my toes in self-consciously.

“Already? But you haven’t made a start on the bathroom yet.” And I needed a chance to set some new rules if I was going to spend time with him. The Macabe brother rule book wouldn’t see me through this, I’d violated every single one in the last thirty seconds.

Callum unsnapped the first button of his coat, working the zip down an inch. “Consider this a deposit. I’ve already checked in with Ada, you don’t work until noon, and I’ll be back tonight to get started on the suite. Unless you think your guests will enjoy waking up to the sound of hammering.”

I crossed my arms. “Youmightmake an excellent point.”

He grinned that Ken doll smile, flashing his dimples. But beneath the charm, his beard looked a little too long and dark smudges bloomed beneath his eyes. “That’s been known to happen a time or two.” He clapped his hands. “Let’s go. Dress warm.”

I gave him my own brand of salute and strode past, noting the clothes horse beside the radiator, covered in every piece of underwear I owned, which he would have had to walk past to get to my kitchen. The books and game controllers spread out across the coffee table. I winced. I wasn’t usually this untidy.

Heat rising in my cheeks, I scooped up the pile of washing from the end of the sofa and deposited it inside the walk-in closet, leaving Callum to amuse himself while I brushed my teeth.

“Hey, harpy …” he called a minute later.

“Yeah?”

“Not to alarm you, but there’s a very angry cat sitting on top of your fridge.”

I popped my head out. “Oh … yeah, that’s Shakespeare. I wouldn’t touch her if you want to keep all of your fingers … or y’know, do.” I smiled around my toothbrush.

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