Unwrapped Bundle with You Don't Know Jack & Bad Boys in Kilts

by Erin McCarthy

  She smiled then. “And now?” She pushed his hair from where it fell in heavy hanks across his forehead, the gesture an absent one, as if she’d been doing it out of long practice.

  “And now it’s like this.”

  “Like what?”

  He propped his weight on one elbow and captured her hand as she was about to smooth the hair on his neck. “This.”

  “I don’t get your meaning.”

  “You opened your door to me mere hours ago, knowing me, but no’ truly knowing me. And for me, the same. Now, hours later, it’s as if we’ve spent many days, months, years perhaps, in just this way. There’s an ease and comfort with you, Kira, that . . .”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “No, it’s a magical thing.”

  “But?”

  He pulled her hand around and kissed her knuckles, then opened her hand and pressed a long kiss to her palm, before curling her fingers closed over it. “How long is it possible to believe in magic?”

  “As long as you want to believe,” she said, without hesitation.

  When he said nothing, she added, “It’s rather like my grandmamma used to tell me when I found, just before leaving for boarding school, that St. Nicholas didn’t truly exist. I was crushed. I’d always quite fancied the idea of him, the promise that someone was watching over me, caring that I behaved well, and would reward me with a twinkle in his sage, wise eyes. She told me that if I didn’t believe in him, then he’d surely never pay me another visit. But as long as I believed, the possibilities were endless.”

  “And did St. Nick keep up his annual visits?”

  She nudged at him. “That wasn’t the point. She was just telling me that a closed mind is like a closed door. Good things can’t enter through a door that’s firmly shut. But an open door is a welcome portal.”

  “It’s also an undefended one. Anything—or anyone—can stroll in, and not always with the best intentions.”

  “True. But a closed door is rather like creating a jail, with you the willing prisoner. No one can get at you, but the solitude makes for poor company after a time, I would think.”

  “There’s always visitation,” he said, in an effort to lighten the suddenly somber mood. For which he only had himself to blame.

  He earned another nudge for that, but her smile broadened to a grin. “Aye, something else ye can control. Who ye let in. And how long they’ll stay.”

  He rolled to his side then and carried her with him, so she was half sprawled across his chest, her face just above his. Now he toyed with her hair. “And how long would you wish to stay?”

  “As long as you’d have me by your side,” she said, just like that, without hesitation.

  His heart bumped hard in his chest. He wanted, like mad, to believe it could be true. He had no doubt she meant it. In that moment. “Even after all I’ve revealed to ye?” he asked.

  “Aye.” She nodded.

  “Why?”

  “Because of this,” she said, and he knew she was referencing the same thing he had a moment ago. She smiled again. “This may come as a shock to ye, but I’ve never once dragged a man into my cottage and had my way with him.”

  “No?” he said, and wished like hell his heart would slow down, just enough so that he could get it back under control. “Not even auld Dougal, then?” he said, who, at ninety-seven, was the oldest, and quite possibly the most toothless, of the McAuley clan.

  She barked a laugh. “Well, only because he hasn’t come ’round, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  She laughed at his deadpan delivery and it delighted him that she understood and appreciated his understated form of humor.

  “In the meantime, I have you.”

  “A puir substitute to be sure.”

  She sighed, but smiled into his eyes as she leaned down to kiss him, lingeringly. “What is it I’ll have to do,” she said as she lifted her head, “to ease your worries?”

  “I dinnae think it’s about words being spoken, Kira. I dinnae doubt that you mean what you say, any more than I question the strength of the want I have for you. What’s between us doesn’t have to follow logic to exist. If we both believe it does, then it does.” His lips quirked a little. “You see, I do have a wee bit of a crack in my door.”

  “So ye do at that.” She smiled into his eyes again. “Where does that leave us then?”

  “We give it time, do with each other what we both wish to do. There’s no’ much else to do, is there?”

  “So, you’re no’ running then.”

  “I couldna, nor do I want to.”

  “And what of the pain and disappointment you’re so sure is to come?”

  “Well, there’s no avoiding that now, is there?”

  Her eyes widened and she pushed herself up on his chest. “Really, then? Well, perhaps we should just say our parting words now, Mr. Gloom and Doom.”

  He tugged her back down. “That’s no’ what I meant.”

  She settled on his chest, but for the first time he saw wariness in her eyes. And despite his knowing that a bit of wariness would be a wise thing for her to adopt if she was going to tangle herself up with him, that didn’t set well at all with him, as it turned out. Not well at all.

  “Go on,” she said, “explain yourself.”

  “All I meant,” he said, cupping the back of her head, “was that I’m already well and truly tangled. So if bad is going to happen, there’s already no avoiding the hurt and disappointment. Stopping now won’t change it.”

  “Then all we need to do is make sure we stay tangled,” she said, trying to tease, despite the thread of wariness still there.

  “Aye,” he said. “ ’Tis simple as that.”

  She gave him a gauging look. “There’s nothing simple about it. Though, to me, it’s joyful work. However,” she said, “if you’re already convinced it canno’ survive the tests that time will surely deliver, then you’ll most certainly fulfill that prophecy.”

  “I know that, too.”

  She smiled now, but it was more rueful this time. “So, I should jump off the ship now, then, is what you’re saying. While the waters are still relatively shallow and the shoreline close.”

  “In the end, it would likely be the easier course, aye.”

  “Do you want me to jump, make it easier for you to steer back to the deep waters alone?”

  “I want you right where I have you.”

  “Even with no guarantee that I’ll stay there? No life preservers, if you will?”

  “Even then.”

  “Then I only ask one thing.”

  “Which is?”

  “No more maudlin talk of how we’re all doomed to fail in our commitments to one another. You might see it play out at court, over and over, but when you come to me, I want you to see me for who I am . . . not who you fear I might turn into. And, perhaps more challenging still, but equally important, I want you to be the man you want to be with me, the man you’ve been today. No’ waste what time we give ourselves worrying about the man you fear you’ll turn into.”

  He looked into her eyes, so steady. So true. “You’re right,” he said, at length. “No more maudlin talk.” He rolled her under him and kissed her, and when she tried to talk, he kissed her some more. “I’m being the man I want to be with you,” he murmured, trailing kisses along her jaw, then down to her collarbone, then, as he slid his body down, between her breasts, lingering on first one nipple, then the other. “And what this man wants, is to taste you.” He slid down farther still, and was exactly that man.

  And when she arched beneath his tongue and hands, when he felt her build toward yet another shuddering climax, fully reveling in the joy of knowing he was the one delivering her so much pleasure . . . he hoped she’d overlook the fact that he hadn’t exactly agreed to her other demands.

  He prayed like hell that by the time she brought it up again . . . he’d know if he could make her that promise.

  Chapter Six

 
; “I appreciate your meeting with me,” Kira said as she stepped into the office that Graham kept in town. He mostly worked in the labs he’d crudely constructed in the crumbling clan castle, Flaithbheartach, though he could even more often be found in the flax fields. The office in town was for clan business, and located just a block or two down from the building that housed both Roan’s and Shay’s offices.

  “Shay said you needed to discuss a business proposition that would impact the island economy?”

  She nodded and took a seat across from the broad expanse of black slate that was the surface of his desk. Graham, himself, as brawny as he was tall, was even more imposing than the massive antique. Had she not already known he was more keen scientist than scowling patriarch, she might have felt nervous about her proposal. But she also knew him to be a fair leader who truly wanted what was best for the citizenry of Kinloch.

  “How much has Shay told you? Did Roan speak to you of it before the wedding?”

  Now Graham’s eyebrows knitted in a mild frown. “No. Should he have? What is this that everyone is already in deep discussion about it? I didn’t think it was possible to keep a secret on this island.”

  “Oh, it’s no’ a secret. Just an idea that Roan and Tessa had and brought to me, thinking I’d be the perfect one to champion it. And I only brought it to Shay to see if it was legally feasible before discussing it with you.”

  “I see.” He sat back in his equally overlarge office chair. The leather was so worn it had cracked through around the edges. Kira knew that despite his lofty station on the island, no one had less pretension about him than Graham. In fact, she’d be surprised if he’d even noticed the deteriorating condition of the antiquities that surrounded him.

  He didn’t say anything further, but continued his steady regard for another minute.

  “So . . . would you like to hear the proposal?”

  He nodded. “I would. But, if I may, could I ask you something of an entirely personal nature first? And please know, you’re more than welcome to tell me to bugger off and I assure you it won’t impact my decision-making on your project, but—”

  “Yes, Shay and I are involved. With each other. I hope we’ll have your support. And Katie’s.”

  His eyes widened in obvious surprise at her bluntness. But he didn’t correct her assumption that that had been the question he’d been about to ask.

  “Our involvement has nothing to do with the business at hand, though, if that’s your concern.”

  “My concern isn’t that, or Shay. Well, that is to say, my concern at the moment isn’t Shay.”

  Meaning he was concerned about her. Now it was her turn to widen her eyes. She’d spent the first nine years of her childhood growing up with Graham on Kinloch and had certainly been sociable to him upon her return, so there was the comfort of a long, if general, association. But they’d never been the kind of acquaintances who shared personal details with each other. In fact, she was closer to having that kind of friendship with Graham’s very outgoing wife, Katie. And she’d only been on the island a few months. “If your concern is for me, I can assure you, I’m fine.” There was a bit of mortification in her response. Other than Tessa, she’d never openly talked about her reasons for coming back to Kinloch with anyone, but she was absolutely certain every last soul knew the circumstances behind the move, if not the more intimate details.

  She’d spent a goodly part of the time since her return holed up in her grandmother’s cottage. Weaving mostly, or at least that’s what it had become when brooding and feeling sorry for herself had ceased to provide any actual comfort. She’d interacted professionally with Roan while marketing her baskets, as that was his job, and she’d made certain to smile and nod at everyone when she had to come into the village to buy food or supplies. But, otherwise, she’d kept to herself. And she realized, on an island this small, people had their opinions about why a thirty-one-year-old woman would, for all intents and purposes, become a hermit. It couldn’t have been seen as healthy.

  And now Graham seemed concerned that his friend had hooked himself up with a woman of questionable mental stability. She’d have laughed, if she hadn’t been so embarrassed. Of the two of them, she felt her outlook on things was far healthier than Shay’s.

  “Good,” Graham said, and seemed to be content with her answer. Then he went on to say, “Has Shay told you about himself? His family?”

  “I was born here, so he didn’t have to,” she said, not in a patronizing way, but wanting to get things back on a more comfortable footing. “I know his mother left him here as a boy, to live with his father, and I know Mr. Callaghan was anything but an easy man, especially with Shay.”

  “Have you thought any about what he does for a living . . . and perhaps why he does it?”

  “He runs his late father’s divorce practice in Edinburgh. I imagine he does so either for the income, or to honor his father’s wishes, or both.”

  “You can’t imagine, then, that he does so because he enjoys it.”

  “No,” she said, instantly. “Definitely no’ that.”

  Graham nodded, and a bit of the tension in his posture seemed to ease up. “You’d be right then. He doesn’t.”

  Kira dipped her chin for a moment, and stared unseeing at the accordion binder she held in her lap. “I don’t want you to think I’m prying. Anything I want to know, I’d ask Shay directly.” She lifted her gaze to Graham’s. “But your insight, as a friend, would be appreciated.”

  “Because others see us more clearly than we see ourselves?”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded and settled back in his chair. “I started the subject, so ’tis a fair request. What is it you want to know?”

  “You bring up his family, his mother, leaving him. As far as I know, they never had contact past that time. And we know his father was less than supportive of his only child and son. So, are you saying you believe his commitment to remaining a bachelor extends back beyond being a practicing divorce attorney?”

  “Possibly.”

  “But he’s had the deep bonds of friendship with you and Roan for a lifetime. And nothing but support from the islanders—”

  “Islanders who are all descended from two clans, neither his own.”

  “Right, but we’re more than our heritage, are we no’? You’re saying he’s an outsider, a man apart, but surely he feels as if Kinloch is his rightful home?”

  Graham’s expression gave away nothing. “I can’t speak for him. You’ll have to ask him how he feels about that.”

  “Has he said as much to you? Not asking you to break a confidence, but—”

  Graham shook his head. “Shay has never once spoken on any of it. He’s no’ exactly the chatty type when it comes to revealing his thoughts. That would be more Roan’s niche.”

  Kira smiled, briefly, thinking perhaps she’d gotten Shay to open up far more than he had to anyone else. But she didn’t speak of it; that was between them. “Aye, that would be the truth of it.”

  There was a beat of silence, then Graham said, “Ye truly care for him, don’t you?”

  She met his gaze squarely then. “I truly do, aye. I know it’s a recent thing, our involvement, but it’s no’ a recent thing, my . . . well, my feelings for him.”

  “I don’t believe his are, either.”

  Kira swallowed at that, hard. Shay had said as much, but Graham’s confirmation . . . somehow strengthened the importance of it. “He . . . mentioned me? Before . . . before the wedding?” Seemed the safest way to characterize the start date of their relationship.

  “No, but he wasna too good about hiding his interest. Not from where I stood, anyway. But I know him as well as anyone could.”

  “Oh. I see. But you’ve . . . spoken on it?”

  “The day of the wedding, aye. But no’ since then. He hasn’t been ’round much. In Edinburgh, and . . . out of his office more.” The corners of Graham’s eyes crinkled a bit. “And ye do have Katie’s blessing, by the way. I�
�ll warn ye not to give her an opening unless you’re prepared to divulge every last moment of your time spent together.”

  Kira smiled a little at that. “Thank you. And for the warning as well.”

  Graham leaned forward, and caught her gaze squarely once again. “And how are you faring?”

  Her shoulders softened a little, which was when she realized how rigid and stiff they’d become. Not so much in defense of herself, but for Shay. “Are you asking as my clan laird?”

  “I’m asking as a friend. At least, I’d like to think we’re friendly. Especially as it looks like you’ll be wanting to continue your involvement with Shay for some amount of time.”

  “Some amount of time,” she echoed more softly. “Aye. Aye I would.” She took a steadying breath and smiled. “I’m faring quite well. We’ve only just embarked down this new path, but it’s one I’m excited to be on.” Her smile grew. “And, truth be told, ye only have yerself and Roan to blame, really.”

  He lifted one eyebrow. “And how is that?”

  “You go carting home a delightful woman from the States and make her your bride-to-be, then Roan goes and becomes lover and protector to my closest and dearest friend, and weddings are happening all over the place . . . it’s hard not to have a renewed sense of faith and optimism in the face of all of that happiness and hope. I was already well on my way, but you lads make it hard for a lass to procrastinate.”

  Graham smiled truly then, and Kira was reminded of how transforming such a small thing could be. Graham was more the distracted type, where Shay was mostly serious or thoughtful, but it took only a single smile to reveal the depth of either man’s true warmth.

  “If we can be an inspiration, I’ll no’ shy away from it,” he said. “I’ve never been happier, nor has Roan. And we’d be very happy, of course, if that were to spread to Shay. Just . . . have a care with him. And with your own heart. I canno’ think of a woman better suited to him, but I’m no’ so sure he’ll ever allow himself to be well suited in return. No matter how deserving he is, or how much he wants it.”

  Kira’s cheeks grew warm, but in a good way. Graham’s heart was truly in the right place. “Thank you. For your concern for me, and even more, for him. He has good friends. I don’t know how we’ll fare, but we’ve been open about that from the start. And . . .” She lifted her shoulders. “We’ll see what we see. Rest assured both of us have our eyes wide open.”