Page 63 of Her Magnificent Mistake
Shocked, Hawk eyed his friend. The lump on his head was still bruised, but not nearly bad enough to need that level ofbandaging. Who was Gabby? Och, aye, the wee maid who’d been arguing with him. Had she bandaged Bull to manipulate Hawk?
I hate being manipulated.
Slumping back against his chair to match Bull, trying not to feel entirely betrayed, Hawk muttered, “I cannae believe I was one of yer cases.”
“Ye were. Now yer’re no’,” Bull said succinctly. “Now ye’re an asset and ally.”
“Ye believe me? So easily?”
Bull held his gaze. “Aye, I do. Even with the damning evidence against ye, I had a hard time believing my best friend could do such a thing. But now that we ken someone’s trying to kill ye—which by the way is the best news I’ve had in ages—ye went firmly fromsuspecttovictim, and I’d like to figure out who is doing thisbeforethey murder ye. If possible.”
“Aye, me too,” Hawk snorted. “But Allie is my heir, and she wouldnae do this either. We’ve had a rough relationship, and I shouldnae have abandoned her for so long at school, but…we’re working through that.”
The last week, as he’d worked with Marcia to get Tostinham’s finances in order, and had the opportunity to reallyknowAllie, he felt as if they were healing.
“If she’s no’ the murderer, then she could be the next victim.”
Hawk’s stomach clenched at that. “I ken,” he admitted hoarsely. “And I’ll die before I allow her to be hurt.”
Bull’s crooked grin flashed again. “Let us catch the bastard before that becomes necessary. Judging from that kiss my sisterjust gave ye, Marcia would never forgive me if I let ye do something daft and die.”
Oh, fook.Hawk felt his cheeks heat, and he found himself unable to meet his best friend’s gaze. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Why? I’m glad ye finally got yer head out of yer arse and realized how special she is. When ye told me ye were ready to marry, I thought…” He shook his head and started again. “Well, I always thought it strange ye didnae court her all those years ago.”
Hawk’s shoulders tensed and his gaze slammed back up to Bull’s. “What?” he managed hoarsely.
“When I brought ye home for Hogmanay that first year, anyone could see that Marcia was interested in ye. And I thought—when I teased ye about marriage—that ye might be interested in her.” There was a knowing sparkle in Bull’s gray gaze, his brow twitching as if in question.
But…he wasn’t accusing Hawk angrily of abandoning his sister. He wasn’t calling out Hawk for betraying Marcia.
Hawk took a deep breath, buying time to form his words. “She told me ye suggested me as a suitor.”
“Aye,” Bull agreed promptly. “I would’ve been glad for the two of ye to wed. But ye never mentioned marriage again, and I assumed my teasing changed yer mind. I am sorry for that.”
He didn’t know.
He didn’t realize Hawkhadbeen thinking of Marcia when he’d broached the topic. He didn’t knowwhyMarcia had been so enthusiastic about agreeing to a match. And he didn’t know why she’d been so hurt when Hawk had abandoned her.
Ye have to tell him.
But…did he?
Finding out Bull would have given a blessing was a gut-punch, knowledge that Hawk had wasted a decade. But now…now that Hawk understood Bull’s attempt to “save” Marcia had been due to thinking Hawk a murderer, rather than someone dallying with his sister…
Wait, ye lost me.
If Bull gave his blessing back then, would he do it again?
Before Hawk could ask, Bull shrugged. “I argued against her coming to Tostinham, but I wonder now if her intention was to make ye see what ye’d missed all those years ago.”
Missed? Aye, he’d fooking missed it, but not in the way Bull meant.
All Hawk could manage was, “Ye dinnae mind? That I’m…kissing yer little sister?”
The knowing look Bull sent him—chin dipped, brow raised—told Hawk his friend heard the pause beforekissingand knew precisely what it meant.Fook.“Hawk, my little sister is the most capable person I ken. She’s strong and smart and beautiful, and if she wants to kiss ye, I’m happy for ye. I’m happy for ye both.”
“I…”He would have been delighted to call you a brother.Hawk felt his throat tightening, clogged with emotion. Marcia had been right. “Thank ye,” he managed to rasp. “She’s…”
