“Enough! Order drinks now. Divide the total bill at the end of the night. That’s the way other people do it. That’s the way you’re doing it. Sebastian, take their drink orders and come to the bar.” Amir opened his mouth to say something, and Mairi held up her hand. “Don’t. Not another word. Just order.”
She stalked over to the bar and climbed back up onto the stool, which took three attempts. When she looked at Ewan, he was suspiciously straight-faced.
“Can I get a snack? Is that allowed?” Mairi asked.
“Sure. As long as it isn’t something you can throw.”
“I hate McKenzies,” Mairi grumbled.
A hand landed on her shoulder, and she knew it was Keir even before she looked up. “Thanks, Rusty, that means the world to us.” He sat on the stool beside her.
She glared at him. He didn’t have to climb up. No, he just sat, because he had freakishly long legs, which meant the stool was at a convenient bum height.
“Ewan won’t let me have alcohol.” Mairi had no problem selling Keir’s cousin out. “Sort him out, will you?”
“Sure,” Keir said with a twinkle in his eye that did strange things to her stomach and made her clench her thighs together. “But I can’t take on family for just anyone. I could do it for a wife. A wife would definitely take priority over a cousin. You about ready to make that decision?”
“Wife?” Ewan’s eyebrows shot so far up his forehead that they almost made it to his hairline.
Keir gestured at the men. “They’re here to marry her. Someone hacked her business page and told her fake boyfriends that she wants a real husband. They don’t plan to leave until one of them wins. I volunteered to sacrifice my bachelor status to get her out of this mess. She doesn’t appreciate it.”
She just growled at him.
Keir grinned at his cousin. “Isn’t she cute?”
“Like a kitten,” Ewan said.
The kitten was preparing to unleash jaguar-sized claws, when Sebastian elbowed his way between Keir and Mairi, flashing a glare at Keir as he did so.
“I would like to make an order,” he said to Ewan, who just stood there, staring at him.
Keir smothered a smile, and Mairi fought the urge to hit her head on the bar.
“Does he speak English?” Sebastian asked her. “Or Gaelic? I can’t speak Gaelic, but I’m sure one of the guys does.”
“He speaks English. He’s just being a moron. Order the drinks.” She gave Ewan a pointed look, and his shoulders slumped.
“What will it be?” he said.
Sebastian looked down at the notepad in his hand. “Three Chardonnays, one Sex on the Beach, three cosmopolitans, one piña colada, one Blue Hawaii, three raspberry ciders, three low-alcohol beers, three shandies, four Red Bulls and one Guinness.”
When he’d finished giving the order, his eyes remained down, and his cheeks flushed. It took a second for Mairi to realize he was embarrassed by the order he’d given and expected to be ridiculed by Keir and Ewan. Hell no. Not on her watch. She sat up straight, her eyes going from Sebastian to the cousins, who shared a grin. Just seeing that look made her want to hit them.
“Don’t you dare say anything,” Mairi said. “A person can drink whatever they like. Who decided some drinks were girly and some were manly, anyway? If a person likes how something tastes, then nobody else has the right to comment.”
“Whoa.” Ewan held up his hands. “I run a bar. I don’t give a crap what anyone drinks. And trust me, I’ve seen it all. The gang leader who’ll only drink Earl Grey tea. The knitting club members that order top-shelf whiskey. All I care about is that no one gets too drunk and starts a fight in my pub.”
“That was years ago,” she snapped. “Forget it already.”
“It was nineteen months and two days ago,” Ewan said. “It was a Saturday. There was light rain and a northerly wind. You were wearing a fluffy pink jumper.” His eyes narrowed. “A publican never forgets.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, get the boys their drinks,” Mairi said. “And don’t act so self-righteous. I saw you two grinning at Sebastian’s order.”
“Not the order,” Keir said, and grinned at his cousin. “The Wookiee.”
“Aye,” Ewan said. “We’re wondering if he’s going to take the mask head off to drink.”
“That reminds me,” Sebastian said. “I’m going to need an extra straw for the Chardonnay.”
The cousins laughed, and Mairi rolled her eyes. “Is there one man left on this planet who isn’t an overgrown child?”
The men stared at each other before Sebastian turned to her. “I honestly can’t think of one.”
“Nope,” Keir and Ewan said at the same time.
“Mairi, my Scottish flower,” Amir called to her. “Come over here. We want to be talking to you about what you are needing in a husband.”
Mairi stood, perching on the rung of her stool, leaned over the bar and grabbed Ewan’s wrist. “If you feel anything for me at all, even a hint of friendship, please, turn off the football and put on the Sci-Fi Channel.”
Ewan let out a sigh, grabbed the TV remote and changed the channel. Doctor Who filled the large screen, causing a cheer.
“Oh,” Sebastian said. “It’s the one with van Gogh. This is my favorite.” He looked back at Ewan. “I’ll be back for the drinks.” Then he hurried over to the rest of the guys, who were now in a viewing trance.
“Bless you,” Mairi said. “Now give me something to eat. If I can’t drink, I need chocolate. Got any chocolate cake?”
“I’ll say it again,” Ewan said. “This. Is. A. Pub. We have bags of nuts, bags of crisps, and beef jerky. Take your pick.”
She looked at Keir, who was clearly amused. “Any chance you’d go to the corner shop and get me some chocolate?”
“No.” He leaned into her and put his mouth to her ear. “But I will take you out of here and get you fish and chips on the way home. Maybe even ice-cream for pudding.”
Oh, it was so, so tempting. After Jonas the Wookiee had snatched her out of the carpark and ruined their lunch plans, she’d ended up eating a soggy tuna sandwich in the hospital waiting room. It had been hell. Although, without the daisies this time.
“I can’t leave the boys,” Mairi said on a sigh.
“Rusty, they’ve forgotten you’re here. They’re arguing about who was the best Doctor. They’ve even forgotten they ordered drinks.”
Mairi bit her lip as she looked over at them. It had been an extremely long day. They’d barely settled Gladys back at the rest home before the boys were harassing her to do something romantic with them. She’d suggested the pub, because it was the least romantic place she could think of, and the boys had been very enthusiastic. Apparently, hanging out in a real Scottish pub was on their list of cultural experiences to be had while wooing her. Keir was right: she had lost their attention to the Doctor.
“Okay,” she said. “But I want cake, too.”
“You got it, gorgeous. Anything you want.”
Mairi wished that were true. Because in that moment, she wanted time to reverse and to find herself back in bed with Keir all those years ago. Only this time, she wouldn’t let him leave. This sort of thinking was exactly the reason she’d spent years avoiding him. He was like a tick. He burrowed under your skin and there was no way to get him out. Next thing you knew, you were running a fever and wondering if you were going to survive. She put her hands to her cheeks. Yep. They were flushed. The fever had started already.
“Let’s go,” she said grumpily as she launched herself off the stool.
This was what her life had come to. She could spend the evening with the only man she’d ever trusted enough to love—only to have him betray that trust—or with a crowd of geeks who lost interest in her as soon as Doctor Who appeared. At least Keir promised her cake.
“There had better be chocolate at the end of this ride,” she said as she stalked toward the door.
“Don’t worry, Rusty, I’ll take care
of you.”
Her stomach somersaulted at his words, but she knew he didn’t mean them. Not the way she’d felt them deep inside. In a place that shouldn’t be feeling anything for Keir at all.
He put his hand on the small of her back and led her to the exit. His touch seared, and Mairi fought back her reaction. He didn’t mean anything by it, and she couldn’t afford to lose her mind again, the way she’d done in the parking garage. Kissing him had been a mistake. It had dredged up feelings that were best left buried and opened the door to desires she’d long ago locked up tight. It was best for both of them if it never happened again.
At the door, she glanced back at her men—not one of them had noticed she was leaving.
Chapter 9
They ate fish and chips, drenched with salt and vinegar, while sitting on the bench overlooking the bluff. The wind from the Atlantic had a bite to it, which made Keir grateful for the hot food sitting in his lap. He would have been even more grateful if Mairi had been snuggled against his side, but she wasn’t. She was as far away from him as she could get without leaving the bench.
Below them, unseen in the darkness, waves battered the craggy coastline, setting up a steady rhythm to fill the silence between them. Silence Keir wasn’t sure how to break without pushing Mairi further away. He’d made good progress with her today, gotten further than he’d managed to in years of trying, and he didn’t want to go back. She’d stopped telling him not to call her Rusty. She didn’t move away from him when he drew near. And best of all, he’d gotten to kiss her. Now, all he wanted was more. If he had his way, he’d have thrown his food to the seagulls, grabbed his woman and carried on where they left off in the hospital parking garage.
“That kiss was a one-off,” Mairi broke the silence, addressing the elephant on the bluff. “I don’t want you to think there will be a repeat performance.”
And just like that, Keir lost his appetite. He leaned back in the cold wooden seat, knees wide, arm stretched along the back, but still Mairi was out of reach. It seemed that no matter what he did, Mairi was always out of reach. She was also talking rubbish.
“That kiss was phenomenal,” he said. “It would be criminal not to repeat it.”
“Please. The kiss was average.”
She rolled her eyes as the orange glow from the street lights hit her hair and made it look like she had a halo. He snorted at the sight. Mairi was no angel.
“That’s why you were clinging to me like a limpet, and mad as hell when the Wookiee snatched you away.” And there was a sentence he never thought he’d say. “Because it was average?”
“Even if Jonas hadn’t acted like a four-year-old retrieving his favorite toy from another kid who’d stolen it, that kiss was coming to an end.”
“You were trying to climb me like I was a tree and you were a monkey. I bet, given five more minutes, I could have had you naked in the back of my car.” Bloody “average” kiss his backside.
“Look, I realize you think you’re God’s gift to women, but the truth is, the kiss was average. I know this is a blow to your male ego, but you keep telling me you’ve grown up these past few years, so suck it up like a man.”
“That’s it.” He crumpled up his fish and chip paper and dumped it on the ground at his feet. “Get over here. I’m going to prove to you that the kiss was way above average.”
“What? No!” She jumped to her feet and took two steps back, still clinging to her food. “I told you the kiss was average. Why would I want to repeat it?”
“Because you’re lying, Rusty, and one kiss will prove it.” Keir got off the bench and stalked toward her. Mairi held out her hands, which were full of the unwrapped newspaper bundle that held her meal.
“Back off,” she said. “I’m serious. There will be no more kissing.”
Yeah, he might have believed she was serious if her eyes weren’t sparkling and she wasn’t trying hard not to laugh.
“There will definitely be kissing. A man has a right to clear his name, and you have maligned mine with your accusation that I have an average technique.”
“Maligned?” She grinned, then quickly changed it to a frown. “Do you even know what that means?” She took two more steps back.
“I demand a fair trial.” Keir sped up, closing the gap between them. “I demand a do-over.”
Her eyes were still sparkling, and she was trying not to grin. The sight made Keir’s blood heat and convinced him that proving his kissing prowess was the right way to go—for both of them.
“You can’t always get what you want, Keir. You’ll just have to live with the fact you can’t kiss worth a damn.”
“We’ll see about that.” He closed the gap between them in one step and reached for her.
Mairi squealed, and a laugh escaped on the heel of it.
“Not going to happen,” she taunted. “I don’t want any more of your soggy, average kisses.”
“Soggy?” That was it. He lunged for her.
Mairi jerked away from him. Her eyes widened. Her footing slipped. Keir felt time slow as she fell over the edge of the bluff and into the blackness. He threw himself after her, grabbing her shirt to stop her from plummeting. It was too late. She went over the cliff, taking him with her.
♦♦♦
Mairi screamed. Her food went flying. She grasped for Keir and held on tight. But it was too late. She was falling. Straight. Over. The. Bluff. They bounced off bushes and dirt, scrambling for a hold to stop their descent. Mairi’s hip hit something sharp and then they jerked to a halt. Keir grabbed her shirt and pulled her tight against him.
“Don’t bloody move. Not one inch. Do you hear me, Mairi?”
Yes, she heard him. It was the only thing she could hear over the sound of her blood rushing through her veins. It took a second to realize she was flat on her back with Keir on top of her.
“Are we at the bottom?” Somehow she’d thought it would be a longer fall. But, hey, she was alive, and that was good.
“No. We’re not at the bottom. We’re about halfway down.”
He couldn’t have said anything worse. Okay, maybe he could have. Something like “you’ve landed on a spike and you’re about to die” would be worse. But halfway? In the dark? The sound of the waves crashing beneath them suddenly became unbearably loud. It even managed to block out the thumping of her heart, for a moment.
By the light of the moon, she could make out Keir’s head above her. He was looking around, and he was grim.
“We’re on a narrow ledge,” Keir said. “It seems stable enough. There’s a huge patch of thistles growing out from under the edge. I think they help stabilize this part of the cliff.” He looked down at her, his face in shadow. “Can you sit up? Are you hurt? Anything broken?”
“I just fell down a cliff, bumping around while I did it—everything hurts. Plus, I can’t breathe. You weigh a ton.”
He immediately took more of his weight on his arms. “Anything broken?”
“I don’t think so.” Did self-esteem count?
“Okay, sit up, but try to move slow and easy. I’m not sure how stable this ledge is.”
Mairi pushed at his chest. “Get out of the way.”
“I see your usually sunny disposition wasn’t harmed, so I guess you didn’t bump your head.”
“Get out of the way, donkey breath, so I can get up.”
He shook his head at the donkey breath comment, but carefully inched off her and to the side. Mairi noticed he’d put himself on the outside of the ledge, protecting her from falling further, and for some reason, that irritated her more. It took a bit of shuffling around, but they both ended up with their backs to the cliff and their knees up in front of them as they looked out over the black water.
“This isn’t good,” Mairi said.
Keir snorted. “No kidding.”
Mairi cautiously checked herself for injuries and was relieved to find it was mostly scrapes and bruises. She was okay about that—what she wasn’t okay with was the am
ount of dirt and plant life in her hair. She frantically finger-combed it, to get out what she could, hoping that she didn’t miss something that would burrow deeper and set up a home for itself. This was the problem with having thick, curly hair. Things could go into it and never come out. She’d once lost a pencil in there and only found it after she’d been stabbed in her sleep.
“What are you doing?” Keir snapped. “Sit still. You’re shaking the earth loose.”
“Don’t worry. We can replace it with the dirt in my hair.”
She was itchy, imagining all the insects that were now at home on her head. It was just like when she was at school, and they’d send home a notice about lice. Those lice notices were Mairi’s greatest fear because if she’d gotten lice, she would never have been rid of them. She would have ended up the bald lice girl of Campbeltown.
“Why the hell are you muttering about lice?” Keir grabbed her hands and held them tight in his. “Do you have concussion? Are you imagining things?”
“No, I’m not imagining things, and my head is fine. Sore, but fine.” She was pretty sure there was an egg-sized bump back there, but it could have been the colony home of a million ants who’d moved into her hair. “I think there are bugs in my hair. I can’t have bugs in my hair. I’m telling you this now, while I’m still calm, because when it gets worse, there’s a good chance I’m going to throw myself over the cliff, so I can wash my hair in the sea.”
“Get a grip. It’s only bugs. They won’t kill you. You can wash your hair once we’re out of here.”
“Spoken like a man with short hair. You have no comprehension of what I’m dealing with. I have more hair than bloody Rapunzel. You can’t get anything out of this hair once it goes in. It’s the Bermuda freaking Triangle of hair.”
He let out a pained sigh. “I see what’s going on. You’re freaking out because you fell off the bluff. You’re scared, and you’ve transferred your fear to your hair.”
“Who died and made you Dr. Phil?”
Can't Tie Me Down! Page 7
