Page 26 of Christmas Games
But now, illuminated in the darkness, it was obvious what it looked like.
Once again, the Earl of Kinloch seems determined to display the alleged dimensions of his personal endowments in public… This event is marketed at families, but with the amount of alcohol present and this lewd and immature display, people should think twice before attending… Another cheap publicity stunt by a man who supported the historically inaccurate and culturally offensive film, Braveheart 2… “It’s disgusting,” an anonymous witness stated. “I had to explain to my grandson exactly why people were laughing so much.”
Rory sighed.
The article didn’t mention the wreath-making workshops, the carol singing, the kiddies nose-deep in hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. He’d been there from opening to closing and all he’d seen were happy faces. Rory didn’t give two shits about the article, but he gave every shit about his wife’s happiness, and right now, she was still crying.
‘This is all my fault,’ she hiccupped. ‘I should have noticed. And now everything’s ruined.’
Rory rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. If this had happened when Zoe was less stressed and exhausted, she would have laughed it off, gleefully exclaiming about the extra publicity and putting a link to the article on the castle website. But now, she seemed devastated.
‘It’s not your fault,’ he said. ‘It’s mine for not noticing. This article is bullshit. You saw how much everyone loved it. You’ve done something amazing.’
‘It’s a disaster. We need to take those lights down.’
‘Fuck, no. Remember when you told me that all publicity is good publicity? I’m going to get Duncan to help me rig up more lights at the top of the columns. I want it to look like they’re ejaculating onto the roof.’
Zoe snorted and his heart lifted.
‘Maybe we can put a giant inflatable baby on the top?’ he continued. ‘Say it’s an art installation celebrating your pregnancy?’
Zoe’s tears were turning into laughs. ‘Don’t you dare, Rory MacGinley.’
‘And how about we start serving those “Earl sausages” thebutcher created last year? We can get the bakery to produce a “Zoe roll” to go with them.’
She shrieked with laughter and his heart soared. If he could make her smile, everything would be okay.
November. Thirty-two weeks + four
Third time lucky.
Zoe slowly typed ‘Roryissexy’ into the password box.
Access denied.
Feeling the first flickers of panic, she tried ‘Roryissexy69’, ‘manbear69’, and ‘IlikebigScotsandIcannotlie’.
None of them worked.
She cradled her bump.Breathe slowly in and out. Stress is bad for the baby. A crisis is an opportunity. Christmas is going to be perfect. You’ve got a month. A MONTH? FUCK!
The castle website was their point of contact with the public, and Zoe was locked out.
Duncan was gazing at her with concern from across the estate office. ‘Everything okay?’
‘I can’t get into the website.’
‘Can you reset the password?’
‘No. I can’t do anything. Have you been in the back end at all?’
He raised his hands. ‘No way. That’s your domain. I just do whatever Rory tells me.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘You mean the jobs he doesn’t want to do?’
Duncan grinned. ‘Fine by me. I’d rather be inside than out in all that.’
Zoe glanced at the icy rain hurling itself at the windows.Winter was beginning to bite. Having Duncan working for them was a blessinganda curse. It helped with some of Rory’s workload, but meant they hardly saw each other. Pregnancy hormones were making her hornier than ever, but a desk quickie was now impossible, and by the time they both returned to the cabin at night, she was too exhausted.
