Page 46 of Some Like It Scot
One of her brows needled northward, and I tried to ignore the prodding look.
“You say the wordheroand people like you think Mr. Bloomin’ Darcy or Jamie Fraser or Superman.” I gave my head a fierce shake. “Norealman can meet expectations like that.”
“People like me?” She crossed her arms, brow still raised. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Heat rose into my face and I stood. “Fanciful.” I waved toward her dress. “American.”
“American?” Her laugh burst out, and then she shrugged, taking the jab with ease. “Okay, maybe you do have a point there.” Her quick humor lit her eyes. “Let me assure you, I’ve met enough real men to keep my expectations pretty grounded. But last I heard, the definitionof a hero has stayed pretty consistent in the fictional and nonfictional realms for millennia, whether you want to claim it or not.”
We stared at each other again, her gaze refusing to give way to mine and me much too stubborn to relent. Hero? What lad hadn’t aimed for such, only to fail miserably when real-life people proved much harder to rescue than in comic books and movies?
She looked away first, her brow crinkling. “And who’s to say that sometimes a hero is exactly what a person needs, not just to save a life, but to remind them that there are still regular, everyday, non-superpowered good guys out there in the world? Maybe you’re the one with the wrong definition.”
Her words hit me in the stomach. First Mum and now Katie Campbell telling me I’m wrong? I steadied my palms on my waist, trying to think of a solid retort... and failing.
She raised her gaze back to mine. “You should take it as a compliment from a grateful recipient, not a challenge. It’s okay just to be who you are, Graeme.”
I swallowed my response and somehow felt taller all at the same time. How did she do that? Her faith in me? Her gratitude? It was as if her words skipped right over my arguments to stab directly into how I wanted to be seen. Even if I’d failed in the past. Even if I’d still fail.
I didn’t know what to do with that information.
“Mr. MacKerrow.”
The call pierced into my foggy thoughts, and I pulled my attention from Katie to find Lennox standing in the doorway of the shop. Her tight smile came with its own warning.
“Could I speak with you for a moment?”
The fact I wanted to linger near Katie only pricked my agitation all the more. And my curiosity. I really was bloomin’ mad.
Maybe someone needed to rescue me from my eejit self!
I drew in a deep breath and tipped my head to Katie, nearly getting caught in those eyes again, before walking to meet Lennox.
“Mr. MacKerrow.” She pressed her hands together in front of her as if she needed to brace herself for whatever she planned to say.
At least we both knew how to prepare for each other.
“I have a favor I must beg of you, and I’m willing to pay you handsomely for your services.”
How could her request send chills and hope at the same time? A favor for her? Heaven only knew what that could be. But “pay you handsomely” had an extra nice ring to it. “Favor?”
“It would greatly improve the overall experience for our guests, thus improving visibility for Craighill, you know?”
She was trying to sell this idea much too hard. I prepared for impact. “What do ye need, Mrs. Lennox?”
She drew in a breath and her lips grew into an unnatural smile. “What Ineed, Mr. MacKerrow, is a butler.”
***
Katie
I had a threadbare hold on my emotions.
And even that was unraveling.
The very idea of not making it free from the wire cage in time was branded on my mind. I shivered. Although I felt pretty sure about my eternal security, skimming along the edge of death wasn’t a move I wished to make on a regular basis.
Despite trouble’s fascination with me.
