Page 59 of Some Like It Scot
“Classy?”
“That was a compliment, by the way. It’s okay to smile at those.”
I narrowed my eyes instead. “Lennox said the winner gets their choice of the desserts you made in the cooking class.”
“I know.” Her nose wrinkled with her smile. “Great incentive.”
“So, are you any good at lawn tennis?”
“No,” she answered without hesitation and then sighed. “I and most sports have a love-hate relationship, but especially sports involving running and hitting something at the same time.”
Which ruled out 75 percent of them. And yet, I grinned.
And she noticed.
“Ah, I see my ineptitude charms you more than compliments.” She dusted off her hands as if finished with a task. “If you find that charming, Mr. MacKerrow, by the end of this game, you should be downright in love with me.”
My heart plummeted.Love.Even if she teased me, I shouldn’t feel a twinge of panic at the idea that she held some sort of ability to wrestle me into actually... caring for her. But I was starting to doubt my head... and my self-control. So I decided to redirect the conversation. “Mum said she let you borrow her car to drive to Iona on Saturday.”
“Iona was amazing.” She turned her body to face me, smile in full bloom. “There’s something spiritual about it.”
“Aye, there is.” I nodded, watching her emotions flash so openly over her expression. Her authenticity offered a surprising and refreshing change from what I’d known with Allison. Perhaps I’d allowed my hurt to discolor my idea of relationships. That realization nipped at my assumptions.
Perhaps it had discolored even more?
“But I’m pretty sure driving there and back improved my prayer life.”
I coughed to hide my chuckle. “Did it?”
“Don’t get me wrong. The overall hallowed feel of the island turned my mind and heart toward heaven, but driving along these narrow roads with little stone bridges the size of toothpicks?” She shook her head, eyes wide. “Definite prayer-inducing times, especially when I didn’t want to add a dent to your mom’s car.”
Who would notice? She already had aplenty.
And Katie’s open talk of prayer? Certainly not a common occurrence among most new folks I met. Interesting.
Toointeresting. Especially since I was attempting to keep my interest as tamed as my smile.
And failing. At both.
When our turn came for lawn tennis, Katie’s action proved her declaration true. Despite keeping step on the short walk from the village to Craighill, when it came to sports, she showed no athleticism at all. Half the time, her hits didn’t even fly toward the net. The other times, she missed the ball altogether.
But I had to give her cheers for effort.
She swung at anything that came remotely near her, fumbling, falling, sliding, and ultimately laughing about it all.
“Youarerubbish at this game, aren’t you?” I reached down to help her up from her latest nosedive.
She wrapped her fingers around mine, and I pulled her to a stand. Her hair, which was once on top of her head, now fell in wild directions around her pinkened face. “You really know how toserve upthe compliments, Mr. MacKerrow.”
Her brows rose in expectation of me getting her pun, and my chest nearly burst with a restrained laugh. For over a year, life’s wounds had been hard, smiles more difficult, and laughter almost nonexistent. My family’s faith and love for one another had softened some of the edges of the grief and offered small steps back into a world where my heart didn’t feel as shattered. But within one week, the stiff muscles around my heart, the ones in need of this joy, began to work loose again, one pun, one conversation, one smile at a time. “Next time I’ll try abackhandedone.”
Her bottom lip dropped open with her smile, and she released a laugh. “You’re not challenging me to a pun war, are you? Because I can tell you right now, you’ve just met yourmatch.”
My grin crooked the slightest bit. Met my match? “I’m willing tocourttrouble in that case then.”
“Trouble?” She got back into position for the next serve and batted those eyes with a mock look of pure innocence. “Are you callingmetrouble?”
“Aye,” I said under my breath. “A great deal of trouble.”
