by Emma Slate
“Nope. He’s been using Hawk to attract women. He’s gonna score big tonight.”
We all had a laugh. I’d made it my mission to find Barnabas a wife. He was lonely and his kids didn’t live nearby. Over the past many weeks, I’d invited him over to dinner, hoping it would give him a new sense of family.
When we arrived at the small valley that had been cleared for the Highland Games, I was able to see a marvelous sight: Lacey, on the field with her camera, yelling out orders for men in kilts to line up.
“What’s she doing?” Ash asked.
No sooner had she asked did all the men turn around, hoist up their kilts, and show Lacey their backsides. She snapped her camera furiously, still yelling orders, making them pose.
Raucous laughter assaulted my ears. I looked at Flynn. “Are you sure it’s a good idea for the men to be throwing cabers? They’ve had enough ale to—”
“Aye, they’re fine,” Flynn said with a twinkle in his eye. He leaned down to kiss me again. “What will you give me if I win the caber toss?”
I whispered something dirty into his ear, causing him to throw his head back and laugh.
“That’s an incentive if I’ve ever heard one,” he said, his eyes bright in the sun.
I looked around and frowned.
“What is it, hen?” he asked.
“Where’s Ramsey? Shouldn’t he be here?”
“Ah,” Duncan said with a wry grin. “He decided he couldn’t wait any more—he went to London.”
“London?” I chirped. “I thought he was over Jane.”
“No, not even a little bit. He’s gone to London to win her over.” Duncan grinned, obviously proud that his younger brother knew what he wanted and was going after it.
“Well, at least it’ll be safe for him,” I muttered. Lord Henry Arlington was currently in the custody of the English and awaiting trial. No one would be gunning for Ramsey’s blood. Not that we knew of, anyway.
“Come on,” Flynn said to Duncan. “I promise not to beat you too badly.”
Duncan shoved Flynn’s shoulder as they walked towards the giant tapered poles. A gaggle of children ran past us and stopped. Their eyes widened as they watched grown men showing off their brawn.
“What’re they doing?” a little girl with a mop of blonde ringlets asked.
A boy a few years older than her with the same hair color answered, “It’s a caper toss.”
Ash snorted and I hid my laughter behind a cough. The children looked at us in confusion but then turned back to the sight.
“Why do they do it?” the little girl asked, sticking her thumb in her mouth.
“I dunno,” her brother answered. He looked at me. “Why do they do it?”
“Well,” I began. “Back in olden times, it was a way for Scottish lairds to find their best warriors.”
“But we don’t have lairds any more,” the boy retorted loftily.
“No, we don’t,” I said.
“So why do we do it now?” he wondered.
“Hmm, I’m getting a snapshot into my future with kids,” Ash muttered. I ignored her and kept my focus on the group of children hanging on my words.
“We do it now because we want to remember our past, even though things change. Scotland has a rich history and it would be a shame to forget it.”
The children were quiet for another minute and then they ran off, no doubt in pursuit of food, their parents, or something far more entertaining than my history lesson.
“Good speech,” Ash said.
“Thank you.”
“Totally wasted on the youth.”
I laughed. “Totally.”
Sounds of an early morning thunderstorm woke me. It dragged me from bed where Flynn was sleeping soundly next to me. With a soft kiss to his head, I left our bedroom. I checked on Hawk who also showed no signs of stirring—just like his father, I thought with a smile.
I headed downstairs to the kitchen. I stood in front of the large windows that gave me an unencumbered view of Dornoch Firth. Violent waves crashed against the craggy outcrop, water beating mercilessly at gray stone. Feeble sunlight attempted to make its way through black shadowy clouds as light and dark warred with one another. I wondered which would win.
“Love,” Flynn said softly behind me. He came to me and wrapped his large body around mine, placing his hands on my rapidly expanding middle. “Are you okay?”
I settled my hand over his. “Fine. Just wanted to watch the storm.”
He kissed the top of my head. “What are you thinking about?”
“Lots of things.”
“Your nightmares?”
“No, actually. I haven’t had one of those in a while.” I paused. “Do you think Hawk will ever lead the SINS?” I asked.
He thought but a moment before answering, “I hope Scotland is free long before Hawk ever has to think about that.”
“What happens to the SINS when Scotland does gain its independence?”
“Change,” he said automatically. “Into something else.”
“But not disbanded.”
“Never.”
I nodded. Things, people, had a way of evolving and becoming something new.
Flynn and I were silent as we watched sunlight continue to battle its way through the inky clouds. Finally, the day won, pushing back the storm.
I looked up at Flynn and smiled. “Let’s check in on Hawk.”
Flynn took my hand and brought it to his lips. “Aye. Let’s go see our son.”
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THANKS AND STUFF
Duuuuude! You made it! Barrett and Flynn are happy. They’ve got wee bairns. Does it last? Find out in Book 3! Grab a glass of scotch or some wine and dive in!
Husband: You are a dreamboat. And such a trooper. You let me lock myself away and write about other men—and even encourage it. Thank you so, so, so, so much. Mama—thank you for being one of my earliest fans. Papa—thanks for knowing your daughter writes dirty books—and not reading them. Sarah N, you’re a Sinner from the beginning. Couldn’t do all this writer stuff without. And to my dog. Yes. I’m thanking the furry wee beast. You’re always there when I need to hug something cute. To all my Sinners, far and wide, thank you for your emails, your reviews, and your demands for new stories. That’s what keeps me going!
Now for the stuff.
Why a sheep? Well, they’re in the Highlands where sheep are plentiful. Book 2 needed some comic relief, I needed some comic relief, and Betty did that. Besides, anyone can have a dog, but Hawk is special, and he deserved something different. How’d you feel about Betty? Email me at [email protected] and tell me.
If you have a spare moment, please consider leaving a review. They mean everything and they help other readers decide to give a book a chance. Want to turn more people onto Barrett and Flynn? Leave a review. And don’t forget to join the Party! We’ve got a Slate’s Sinners Facebook group. Check it out.
Other Books By Emma Slate:
Barrett lives in black and white. Then she meets a man who pulls her into the gray. Love has a price. Maybe it's her soul.
The SINS of the Rex Trilogy
(dark romantic suspense)
SINS of the Rex Book 1
SINS of the Rex Book 2
SINS of the Rex Book 3
RUTHLESS: A SINS of the Rex Prequel Novella
Poppy thinks she’s losing her mind when starts to hear a voice. What if she’s not crazy? What if the impossible is possible?
The Web Series
(psychological thriller with a fantasy element)
Web of Innocence (Web #1)
Captive: A Dark Romance Novella
About the Author
Emma Slate loves Friends but hates Rachel. She also thinks Chandler is amazing but that Monica should’ve chosen Richard. Emma also loves hearing your thoughts on fictional people. Connect with her on Goodreads, her website www.emmaslate.co
m/ or email her [email protected]
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