Page 108 of Some Like It Scot
With me.
On a horse.
With him.
In the rain.
Wow. I loved Scotland.
And I tried really hard not to think about how this mishap reduced my attraction points into the negatives.
“You found her,” Lachlan announced as we entered the back of the house.
“Aye.” Graeme tossed the boy a nod. “Put a kettle on, Lachlan.” Then he turned to me, his gaze trailing over my scantily clad (for an Edwardian) self. His jaw twitched. “Follow me.”
The brusqueness in his actions fizzled away all romantic notions.
So much for a repeat of those hugs. Or hooded looks. Or near-kisses. I had failed with him just like I knew I would. Stupid, stupid to get my hopes up.
I followed behind him down a narrow hall to a small bedroom. “I’m sorry, Graeme. I only went to see the puffins and to make a few videos.”
He opened a drawer and drew out a pink sweater, some black leggings, and thick wool socks, giving me another look from top to bottom as he did. His entire body tensed, and I rushed forward with my defense.
“Then this massive Highland cow came along and charged me.”
“Put these on. They were Greer’s and should fit.” He sighed. “We’ve got to get you warm, Katie. You’ve been in the wet too longand your skin is ice.” He walked to the door. “I’ll put the horse away and add some wood to the fire.”
With a brand-new sense of humiliation and defeat, I slipped into the wonderfully dry clothes and carried my wet underclothes and shoes with me back into the living room. The heat from the fire drew me forward, exhaustion suddenly overwhelming me from the inside out.
“The tea should be ready in a trice,” Lachlan called from the kitchen as Graeme reentered the house, his wet T-shirt doing nothing to hide the rippled form beneath.
“Thanks so much, Lachlan, but I have to get back to the house. Mrs. Lennox is having a photo op for some of the local newspapers, and we’re all supposed to be there.”
Graeme stared over at me, his disapproval almost palpable.
This was what I feared most. Tasting just a teeny bit of what being cared for by him would feel like, only to fumble it up in grand and glorious Katie style.
The sooner I got out of here the better.
“Thank you for rescuing me, Graeme.”
His gaze flipped to mine, and his shoulders slumped a little. “You need someone in your life who will, ye ken?”
“I’ve survived this long.” I shrugged a shoulder. “But... you’re really nice to have around. I promise I’m not an idiot. I am clumsy, but I’m not usually stupid.”
“I dinnae think you’re an eejit, Katie.” He released a long sigh, and those lips of his twitched. “But I am beginning to wonder if death is haunting your heels.” He released another snort-like sound. “Because I’ve never in all my days known anyone who falls into as many predicaments as you.”
“My granny used to call it a gift.”
The snort happened again.
“So why not use your gifts to your advantage, right?” I shrugged. “And become a social media phenomenon.”
And then he laughed. Shoulder-shaking, belly-holding, sweetly contagious sort of laughter. Deep and rumbly and oh so wonderful.
With the memory of his arms around me and the tingle of his voice still warming my neck, this delightful addition to all the things that made up Graeme MacKerrow pushed my interest over the proverbial ledge into something much more lasting than simple attraction.
I cared for him all the way to my shivering bones.
