Obsessed: Wild Mountain Scots, #1

by Vines, Jolie

  I knew my protective instincts were stronger than most.

  Too often, women and children needed defending from men. It was a fact of the world that laws couldn’t always provide. Some lowlifes could only be prevented from acting out their evils by the strength and aggression of better men. I’d been taught that as a boy, afraid of my father even as I’d escaped with my mother and Blair, and believed it to this day.

  Not that I thought women weak. Ma was the strongest woman I knew, and she’d raised Blair and me as equals, working endless hours to provide for us. But the simple truth was, in general, men were physically stronger.

  Brutal, sometimes.

  Cait lived alone in her cottage. Even on this remote and wild estate with her kin nearby, she was vulnerable. She’d already been attacked with the word scrawled on her door.

  And she was going to have a bairn.

  That set every alpha male instinct in me to high alert.

  Fuck, I almost shook with the will to command her to listen to me. To let me include her in my daily concerns.

  If I went to her like this, tense and stubborn, we’d end up fighting again.

  Outside the back of the cottages, a short, walled-in patio kept the forest at bay. Beyond, a cleared area of hillside made a good spot to chop wood for the fire. Isla and I had a well-stocked store already, but there was nothing wrong with adding to it.

  I stowed my jacket on the wall and unlocked the shed to grab an axe, hefting it over my shoulder as I strode to a waiting tree stump in the clearing. In short order, I split a thick pine bough into chunks, then set about making kindling.

  The thud of the axe resounded and ricocheted in the damp, muffling air.

  Heat built, and I shed my jumper and t-shirt, leaving myself bare-chested.

  Sweat coated my skin. I swung the weapon and took out my emotions on the wood. Fuck people threatening others. Isla, Cait—they’d both been victims.

  I put more power into my muscles.

  The pine halved, pieces flying.

  How fucking dare someone daub paint on the lass’s door. What a brainless, cowardly arsehole. If I ever found out who did it…

  Movement at the cottages halted my efforts. I focused and found Cait at the window. She stared at me. I stared right back.

  Ah God, she was pretty.

  On her shoulder, a wee bairn snuggled. A soft shape in her arms.

  My stomach tightened.

  Whose bairn that was, I had no idea, but it looked content. I heaved in a breath, utterly caught on the vision before me. Likewise, Cait seemed stuck. Her gaze coasted over my form, and I straightened, letting her take her fill.

  With the axe across my shoulders, my arms hooked over it, I knew the effect it had on my muscles.

  She touched on my broad shoulders, abs, and over the smattering of black hair on my chest. She followed the trail down to where it disappeared under my combat trousers. I felt every inch of her attention as if her fingers slid over my skin.

  I had no business engaging in this moment. No reason at all to let myself succumb to a deep, rolling wave of attraction.

  Nor could I stop it.

  Abruptly, Cait turned away, and I was released, my rising instincts only worse than before.

  8

  Cait

  I carried Archie to the sofa and moved him to my lap so I could see his face. He scrunched up his nose and flailed his arms and legs.

  On autopilot, I tickled his hands and feet in a game, but my mind was entirely elsewhere.

  Fixed on Lochinvar, half naked and savage.

  He’d swung that axe like the logs had attacked him and he was fending for his life. Powerful swings. Deadly accuracy. In olden days, he would’ve been a mighty warrior.

  Each hack sent a shockwave through my body. But it was his body that I’d got stuck on.

  He was beautiful. Lean, tall, and muscled, his biceps the size of my head. Bulging, so strong. I couldn’t take my gaze off him, nor the dark hair that continued on his chest and downwards.

  Despite my lack of sexual feelings, I’d appreciated male beauty before.

  This was nothing like that.

  I’d wanted him to continue stripping.

  Brand-new feelings sparked low in my stomach.

  What the hell was that?

  Too hot, and entirely confused, I glanced at the clock on my wall and heaved a sigh of relief. Lennox would be home soon. I had an excuse to leave.

  “About time I got ye back to your father,” I told Archie.

  In a minute, I’d collected his belongings, strapped him into his car seat, and got on the road, not sparing a look at the neighbouring cottage.

  Even as I drove, I couldn’t shake the feelings in me. I’d been electrocuted. Scalded.

  Something was very different.

  At Isobel and Lennox’s place, I carried their son inside, reuniting him with his father. Between them, my cousin and his wife juggled Archie’s care, and I was always happy to help out with babysitting the six-month-old, like I’d done today, taking the afternoon off work.

  Lennox waved a hand in front of my face. “I asked if he drank all his milk. Are ye okay?”

  “Fine.” I jerked my head up and frowned. “Why?”

  “You’re red-cheeked and distracted.”

  “Am not.”

  My cousin grinned, locking on to my distress in the way that close family could. “What’s going on? What have ye been up to?”

  I backed to the door. “Nothing concerning ye. I have to go. Bye.”

  Through the blustery afternoon, I drove erratically and parked with a wary peek at the cottages. It was too early for Lochinvar to collect Isla, so he was probably still in the house.

  Could he sense my weird level of interest through the walls? I didn’t want him to.

  A thought struck me.

  When I’d been ogling him, he hadn’t moved. He’d witnessed my act and let it continue.

  I wished I’d caught his reaction. Maybe he’d been horrified.

  Then I recalled the slight movements he’d made, how he’d stood taller, his axe held behind his shoulders so his biceps popped.

  Perhaps he’d felt what I had. This curious…thing I couldn’t explain.

  Without any intention of vanity, I knew how I looked and how that affected some people.

  I’d always been pretty.

  I’d never encouraged the attention.

  For the first time ever, I was almost desperate to know if Lochinvar Ross found me attractive.

  On the cusp of rising energy, I skittered into my house, keeping my gaze on my brown leather boots. Then, in my bedroom, I changed into my form-fitting pink-and-black yoga kit and stepped outside to the patio at the back of my cottage.

  There, I rolled out my yoga mat and stretched, warming up. As I did almost every day, I moved through the poses of my regular routine.

  The big difference here being the fact I was in the fresh and chilly autumn air and not my living room.

  It was only when I moved from Downward Dog into Cobra—from my backside being high in the air to pushing up on my arms—that I dared risk a glimpse at Lochinvar’s window.

  There he was.

  His dark glower glued to my body.

  Ha! We’d switched places. He’d shown his cards. Satisfaction warmed my tensed muscles.

  I held the pose and shivered.

  I wished I had the cocky swagger to send him a wink, but instead I rolled into Plank and hid my flushed face.

  By the time I stole another glance, Lochinvar had gone.

  * * *

  Across the car, Casey gave me a curious look. “You’re on edge. Did something happen?”

  “Ye could say that.” I heaved a breath, concentrating on the road and our trip into Inverness.

  For days and days, I’d nurtured the fizz of feelings I’d experienced, though I hadn’t crossed paths with Lochinvar once. He took Isla to breakfast club at the school and hadn’t been on an evening call-out. I’d
had to travel for work so missed their comings and goings.

  Yet the fresh sensations hadn’t gone away.

  Tonight, Casey and I were meeting up with Viola, as Vi was about to leave for Leo’s world tour. I’d planned to share my odd reaction with them.

  Leo had a rehearsal in the city, so Casey and I were crashing that, but first, we had another chore.

  My godmother wanted to see me.

  I’d been putting off the visit.

  Georgia Banks was my birth mother’s cousin. Growing up, she’d been my only connection to that side of my family. Yet I typically shied away from meeting with her. Learning about the person who’d supplied half my DNA only went so far, and Georgia had a knack for unsettling me. She had put herself in the role of amateur psychologist, linking everything I did, thought, and felt to the fact my birth mother had gotten pregnant with me in secret and then died not long after my birth.

  Seeing her left me flat, but at least I had a fun evening to anticipate after.

  “Let’s get Georgia over and done with first, then we’ll chat,” I told Casey.

  She agreed, boosted the music, and we sped on.

  We arrived at Georgia’s home in the outskirts of Inverness at six. My aunt ushered us inside with hugs and a warm welcome.

  As a kind of personal shield, I’d gotten into the habit of always bringing Casey with me, and my friend settled into a chair, accepting a mug of tea while making chitchat about her pregnancy.

  “Cait, there’s a reason I asked you here today.” Georgia reached for a bag from beside the couch. “Ever since you told me that you wanted a baby, I’d planned to give this to you.”

  She passed over her gift.

  I received the white knitted blanket and smoothed over the wool. “This is lovely. Did you make it?”

  “I did, but nearly thirty years ago and for my own two. They both used it, and you would’ve, too, as a newborn, had your mother told me about your existence. It was too late by the time we found out about you.”

  I summoned a smile. “My future baby thanks you for the kind thought. It’s beautiful.” Then I rushed on to prevent Georgia from lingering on the last part of her statement. “I’ve booked in with a fertility clinic. They have a long waiting list, but I’m on it. My parents are super excited to be grandparents. Ye know Da doesn’t like to be outdone by his older brothers, and they’re all grandads already, or about to be.”

  Georgia heaved a wistful sigh. “Your mother would love to know how happy a family you have. If only her heart hadn’t given out, she’d still be with us now.”

  Casey widened her eyes at me, her expression knowing. “I think—” she started.

  “Of course,” Georgia interrupted, “you wouldn’t be going down this path of single parenting if she hadn’t died.”

  Oh boy.

  Her gaze distanced, as if she was reliving a long-ago scene. “I can’t help but look back with frustration at what Kaylee did. Her fascination with your father, getting pregnant on purpose, hiding you from him. From all of us. No wonder you don’t want a man. She really screwed you over.”

  I’d never followed her logic on this. My internal workings had nothing to do with my start in life. Da had claimed me when I was only months old, and he and Scarlet, my stepmother, though I’d never called her anything other than Ma, were all I knew.

  Yet every time I saw her, Georgia picked at the wound.

  “Cait will make an amazing mother,” Casey stated.

  “She will. It’s just such a shame. Did I tell you how I found out about it all? Lord, it was a shock! Kaylee being told she wouldn’t get pregnant and all.”

  My armour dropped, and I stared. “She was told she couldn’t get pregnant?”

  “Yes. Surely I’ve told you this?”

  “Never.”

  “I can’t remember the specifics, but she knew it from her teenage years. Something to do with her heart, I’m sure.”

  Kaylee’s heart problems were responsible for ending her life, and I’d had scans growing up to make sure I hadn’t inherited the condition, but what if there was something else? Da wouldn’t know. He and Kaylee had been friends but nothing more.

  “Georgia, this is really important to me. Can ye please try to remember exactly what Kaylee told ye?”

  “Hmm? Oh my, it’s such a long time ago. I can’t be sure. It won’t matter considering the path you’re taking, the doctors doing all the hard work. Now, back to the time I first heard about you.”

  The conversation continued in this vein for another hour until we could politely extricate ourselves.

  I kissed Georgia goodbye, thanked her again for the blanket, revved the engine, then peeled away from her street.

  “Argh,” I bit out, then banged the steering wheel.

  “Holy shit,” Casey drawled. “Read the room, Mrs. How does she think that kind of conversation is helpful?”

  “I have no clue. What was that new sly addition? Kaylee was told she couldn’t conceive?”

  “She could have misremembered.”

  “Maybe. There’s always something she’s alarmist over, and it’s always the same: I’m broken for life. She drives Da nuts. After her visits to the estate, he’d sit me down and talk through each of her statements. Undoing the ‘facts’ she’d tried to instil in me.”

  “What kind of facts?”

  “She internet-researched stress in pregnancy and lectured me in how it affects babies. She also believes that Kaylee being there then vanishing hurt me. But you know my mother. She’s the most amazing woman. I couldn’t have asked for better.”

  Casey rubbed my arm, but there was nothing more to be said. Georgia had dropped her new bomb for me to worry over, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  We zipped into town and to the rehearsal space where we were meeting Viola. A burly man answered the door of the closed gig venue, admitting us when I gave our names and IDs.

  Inside, a small audience waited in front of the empty stage.

  Viola waved from a table, and we made our way over, swapping hugs.

  “I’m so glad you’re both here!” the former snowboarder sang, balancing on the crutch she relied on after a bad accident a few years ago ended her career.

  I gestured to the crowd. “Who are all these people?”

  “Leo’s record company and their families. Relatives of his band. He’s performing a couple of official warm-up gigs, but this is just for industry folks. Oh, Da’s here, too, somewhere. He’ll come over when he sees ye. I’ve told him to stop hovering like I’m about to expire.”

  Casey settled into her seat and smiled. “It’s lovely that he cares so much about you. I wish my dad gave a shit. Actually no, maybe I don’t. It’s far nicer being away from my family than having to deal with their drama day in, day out.”

  We all chuckled.

  Viola pointed at the bar across the hall where a barman waited. “Mocktails? I’ll go order them.”

  Casey stood. “Let me. I need to pee anyway. You both have the joy of advanced pregnancy and peeing every thirty minutes to look forward to.”

  We gave our orders, and she disappeared.

  Alone with Viola, I finally let myself relax.

  “How was Georgia?” my cousin asked.

  “We went over her favourite topic of me staying single because I’m scarred, then she intimated my birth mother had some problem with conceiving. Right out of the blue, and with no further information. What am I supposed to do with that?”

  “Jeez. The woman’s a riot. Considering ye exist, maybe that wasn’t true.”

  I blew her a kiss. “I’ll try to believe that. Tell me about the tour plans. Edinburgh first, right?”

  Viola rolled her dark curls into a hair clip and got into their European itinerary. Between Leo’s rock show performances, they’d get to go on several cool tourist trips. Her father would provide their security, and we all smiled at how fierce he’d be to any avid fan who came too near.

  Casey retur
ned, and we were midway through a conversation on travelling when Leo appeared on stage. The audience applauded, and Casey and I catcalled and whistled.

  Viola only gazed at him, her expression settling into one of utmost devotion. I liked her husband so much, and he suited her perfectly.

  It was hard not to envy their happiness.

  For their surprise wedding, he’d planned a whole mini-festival of family and friends then performed a song in which he asked her to marry him there and then. It was the most romantic and sweet gesture, their love so easy and full.

  I’d been content with living a loveless existence, but at times, it hurt that I was different. Maybe Georgia had it right, and I was just broken.

  Except, I loved my family and my friends. Was my malfunction tied in with sex and desire?

  My mind drifted back to the something I’d experienced when spying on Lochinvar.

  I tested myself. Aye, it had been real. I could still sense the edges.

  He’d jolted feelings from me that no one else ever had. It was unlikely to be close to the sorts of emotions Casey and Viola felt for their men, but it had happened.

  “Cait?” My cousin waved. “Where did ye go?”

  Leo’s song had ended, and the waiter arrived with our drinks. I blinked and accepted mine, my cheeks heating.

  “Sorry, I got distracted. Actually, can I ask a question?”

  They swapped a glance and leaned in.

  “How old were ye when ye started noticing boys?”

  “Eight or nine,” Casey replied. “Early bloomer.”

  “Older for me. Maybe eleven? I wasn’t really into them until a few years later, though,” Viola added.

  “And what did that feel like?”

  Casey’s attention turned speculative. “Warm and vital. A need. It wasn’t an erotic feeling until I was a teenager, but I was totally drawn in. Why? Is this to do with what you said in the car?”

  Viola’s head swung. “What did she say in the car?”

  Casey grinned. “Not much. She was being mysterious.”

  I peeked around and sank lower in my seat. “A few days ago, I found myself stuck staring at a man chopping wood, half naked. He was beautiful, and I think it woke something in me.”