by L. L. Muir
“Good morrow, lass.” He smiled, a quick curve of his lips.
She crossed to him and glanced out the window to see the regular morning scenes of people going about their business—work, school, exercise. People doing what they did. The park lay in the distance and her regular routine of grabbing a yogurt and sitting on a bench with the pigeon man to watch the birds and the kids seemed a great way to start their day.
“Do you have somewhere you need to be today? Do you need to go to the Scottish festival or is it over?”
“I will spend the day with ye.”
That was encouraging. She smiled at him. “Do you want to go to the park?”
“That sounds a fine idea.”
She quickly dressed in a tie-dye T-shirt, jeans and sandals. When she came out again, he stared long and hard at her shirt.
“How did they color the shirt in such a way?”
“Family secret. They sell tons of these at my mom’s store in Harmony Falls. These T-shirts paid for all my art supplies growing up.”
She pulled her hair into a thick, curly ponytail.
He turned away and a moment later lifted a strip of plaid torn from his kilt. “For yer hair.”
“Thank you.” She attached it to her ponytail. “How does it look?”
He nodded and cleared his throat. “Good. It looks good on ye.”
She bagged yogurts, cream cheese bagels, juice bottles, and headed for the door.
She sensed Aiden watching as she double-locked her apartment, though his added ‘why bother’ under his breath made her chuckle. “I heard that.”
Mrs. Danvers was dressed for her regular exercise class—which didn’t start for over an hour—her poodle Pooski under one arm as she locked her door.
“Hello, Mrs. Danvers.”
“Oh, hello Zoey.” Though the retired schoolteacher sounded nonchalant, the timing of her exit was suspicious to say the least.
Zoey smiled. “Mrs. Danvers, this is my friend Aiden MacGregor.”
The older woman’s bright eyes assessed him. “Awfully early for a date, isn’t it?”
“He stayed on the couch last night.”
“Mm hmm. More’s the pity.”
“Ye needn’t worry about Zoey, Mistress. I’ve only her best interests at heart.”
“Time will tell, won’t it?”
Aiden nodded. “Indeed. Now who is this little mite?” Aiden let the poodle sniff the back of his hand and the little dog wagged his tail, an unprecedented event.
Mrs. Danvers was visibly surprised as her baby allowed Aiden to pet him. “His name is Pooski. He generally doesn’t take to strangers.”
“Ah, he’s just a wee bit possessive of his pretty little mistress I’d wager.”
Mrs. Danvers actually giggled, which in turn made Zoey smile. His silver aura evidently extended to include a silver tongue. Good with pets and retirees. Zoey appreciated that in a man.
She took Aiden’s arm. “Well, we’ll see you later. We’re headed over to the park for some breakfast.”
“All right, dear, come by for a chat when you get the chance.”
“Will do.”
They joined the crowds on the sidewalk and headed to the park. Benito was there, as usual, spreading seeds and bread crusts for the birds. “Hey, Benito. I brought a friend today.”
Benito shot Aiden a quick glance, but otherwise didn’t respond.
Zoey sat a little closer than usual to the elderly gentleman so Aiden could sit on the end. “The birds look chipper today.”
“You always say that. They just look like birds.”
Zoey wasn’t fooled in the least. Benito loved these birds and she had no doubt he’d named every one of them. She pulled out breakfast and shared with Aiden. “As always, I brought plenty. Would you like some yogurt, or a bagel, Benito?”
As always, he shook his head.
“Oh, look, there’s a new one today.”
“Where?”
“The pigeon with the blue on its head. In the middle.”
Benito shot her a glare full of exasperation. “He’s here every day.”
She bit back a smile. “My mistake.”
Aiden, making quick work of his breakfast as he watched the birds, leaned down to whisper in a low voice. “Is this a not a good time to share the fact I grew up eatin’ pigeon?”
Zoey choked on her bagel.
Aiden thumped her back until she had herself under control. She glanced at him, smiled and shook her head as he grinned at her.
A red bouncy ball headed toward the pigeons and Aiden jumped to intercept.
Benito, half standing, sank back down, then glanced at Zoey. He hated it when harm or fright came to his pigeons. Aiden grinned and threw the ball back to two young boys, chatting with the wide-eyed youngsters a moment before resuming his seat.
Unbeknownst to Aiden, he received a grateful look from the older man. Whether Aiden knew it or not, he’d just risen considerably in Benito’s estimation.
Good with older folk. Good with kids. Good with pets. Protective of her. Zoey could feel herself practically glowing by this point. Mom and Dad would love this guy. Everyone would. He was the one for her.
Now, how to get him to accept that fact?
After they’d finished eating, she urged him toward the sidewalk, wanting to walk so she’d have the excuse to cling to his arm. “Do you have luggage to pick up? Any friends to contact so you can let them know where you’re staying?”
“Nae, lass.” He spread his arms. “I’ve brought what I’m wearin’.”
“Well, that’s not good. Let’s go to the shops and see what we can find.” She was glad to take him shopping. She didn’t want him having to go home because he had nothing else to wear. She turned him in the opposite direction and headed to one of her favorite places.
When they arrived at My Best Friend’s Closet she hesitated outside the store. “You know, I love this place, my family always shopped here when we came to the city, but it’s a used clothing store. I mean, the clothes are clean and in good condition. We could wash them when we get home. But maybe you don’t like to wear secondhand clothes?”
“Ah, so ye’re a thrifty lass. I appreciate that in a woman. Lead the way.”
They went in and sorted through the racks of clothing. They tried some on, modeled for each other. Zoey found a button-down plaid shirt for him, and a scarf and skirt for herself, but none of the jeans came in his size.
After eying Aiden the entire time they’d been shopping, the young saleslady came over, but before she could even finish the words, “Can I help you?” Zoey placed a proprietary hand on his arm.
“I’ve got this.” She’d been taught as a child to share, and had always been cheerful about it, but a feeling of deep possessiveness swept over her and didn’t recede until, eyebrows raised, the woman turned and walked away.
Most of the shirts weren’t wide enough for Aiden’s shoulders, but they managed to find a few, though Aiden insisted he only wanted one. None of the jeans were his size.
The saleslady rang them up. “That will be $17.00.”
Aiden placed a gold coin on the counter. Both Zoey and the saleslady stared at it before Zoey laid a twenty down and handed Aiden back his coin. “We use different money here in America.”
“I’ll not have ye purchasin’ the clothes.”
The saleslady was already handing her the bag and her change. “We’ll talk about it outside.”
It was sprinkling, but Zoey didn’t mind, and Aiden didn’t seem to either. Another attribute in his favor.
“Was that a real gold coin?”
“Of course.”
“Where did you get it?”
“Payment from the French.”
“Huh. They pay in gold coin, do they?”
“I’m not a rich man, if that’s what ye’re thinkin.’”
“I’m not rich either, but I do okay.”
She dragged him to the Big & Tall store across the street. By the time
they left the store, Aiden wore a pair of jeans, casual shoes and socks, and new underwear. He wouldn’t accept anything else. A shame, that. The man could have been a fashion model. Luckily she’d been the only woman present to enjoy the show.
They slowly walked back to her apartment, and Aiden took her hand. “I appreciate the clothing, and will find a way to repay ye, but it truly was unnecessary.”
“You need clothes, don’t you? And it was fun. We should have purchased the slacks and the other shirts. They looked great on you.”
“It will be better if I fit in while we find ye a husband.”
She stopped short. “What?”
“We need to find a protector for ye before I leave to go…home.”
She started walking again, trying to pretend there was nothing wrong. But ouch. She wished his words didn’t hurt as much as they did. Apparently, while she’d been spending time getting to know him—ha, more like planning a life with him—he’d been happily contemplating a life without her. Apparently he didn’t even care.
Double ouch.
And here she was, wanting to keep him, convinced he was her fate.
Seriously. Was there something wrong with her? Was true love really so hard to find? If she were home right now she’d seriously march her butt over to Aunt Thea’s and give her a piece of her mind. And then she’d order one of those silly love potions that didn’t work, and everyone knew it, and she’d slip it in Aiden’s food. She really would.
As they walked along, side by side, dodging other pedestrians, her lips tightened into a firm line.
She wasn’t giving up. She simply needed to figure out a way to keep him. Every man had a weakness. A soft spot. She’d find his.
And when she did, she’d do everything in her power to make him stay.
~~~
It had been a lovely morning, though it felt like stolen time, and they headed back to Zoey’s home.
He knew he needed to work on finding someone for Zoey. He didn’t have much time, and the pressure ate at him. But still, stolen moments were better than none at all. To spend a day with Zoey, to laugh with her, to watch her interact with others. To see her kindness, loyalty, the sweetness of her heart.
Every time he saw his plaid in her hair, a feeling of utter possessiveness swept over him. He liked—no, he actually loved—seeing it there.
He’d been amused and pleased by her thrift . She would make some man a wonderful wife. To be able to come home to her sweet face, her smile, her sensuality, would be more than most men deserved.
He certainly didn’t.
It wouldn’t be easy to find someone who did warrant her. Someone she could trust her heart to. The thought of her with this unknown, faceless man, drove him to clenched fists.
He’d have to be strong, in order to safeguard her.
He’d have to be good-natured, in order to sense and protect her tender feelings.
He must be firm, in order to keep her alive, carefree and happy. No more windows left unlatched. No doors left unlocked, or stepping off curbs into traffic. Though a woman grown, at times she seemed childlike in her happiness and enthusiasms.
Blast it! He wanted to be the one to grow old with her.
She took his hand and held it, startling him, though it seemed a natural thing to do. Her hand was cool, delicate, and his swallowed hers. So why did his heart race in his chest, the sensation of her skin against his bring on a rushing feeling of protectiveness?
He slowed his pace, but remained vigilant. Must she be so beautiful? Her big blue eyes and thick copper-colored hair attracted attention wherever she went. He saw it in the necks craning to watch as she strolled by, graceful, elegant, exuberant. She certainly made protecting her a more difficult task.
He shouldn’t have let her buy that skirt today. Nor the colorful scarf. Sackcloth would be just the thing. Except, that wouldn’t work either. What had she said to him earlier? That he rocked his jeans? She was a girl who could rock sackcloth.
He admitted it. He liked everything about her. From her name, to her temperament, even down to her strange clothing. He’d also noted an amusing stubborn streak he’d like the care and nurturing of.
And yet, he must give her to another man. Aye, and soon.
And he had to find this man on the Internet. He didn’t like it, but did agree ‘twould be the quickest way. And as he didn’t have much time, nor did he know anyone to introduce her to, he’d concede.
He gazed down at her ridiculously comely face in exasperation. Not so much with her, but with the situation. It wasn’t her fault she’d no protector, but on one thing they both agreed, she needed one.
She did have friends, which didn’t surprise him. She was friendly and thoughtful and the type to collect support. But none in her life could defend her. It appeared they needed shielding as well. He wished it could be him.
That thought had both satisfaction and regret slicing through him. He wanted more time with her. He could only hope his brothers in arms would keep the witchling busy. Mayhap she’d forget all about him and leave him here with Zoey. Wouldn’t that be nice?
Aiden continued to scan, and noted a male watching them. He had dark hair, an athletic build, and though not much in the way of brute strength, something about him put Aiden on alert.
He kept glancing at them, then away. It would be less suspicious if the runt simply stared outright.
Aiden didn’t want to be paranoid. Zoey was obviously very pretty, so he didn’t blame men for gawking . But had that same fellow been in the park earlier? He’d been further away that time, so Aiden couldn’t be sure.
The male suddenly turned away and moved up the street.
Again, Aiden wished he would have captured the snake-man the night before. He wouldn’t be so on edge if he had. Had two hundred years without a body made him so incompetent? He wanted to blame Zoey. Having her in his arms had done something to him. Kissing her—once—had changed him. Scrambled his brains, no doubt. His thoughts drifted to that kiss once again. To the softness of her mouth, the way she’d clung, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He shook himself, tried to focus.
Losing the snake-man could be excused. Aiden had just come back to life, after all, and was confused. He’d had saved the girl—aye—but still, he felt he’d let himself down. And Zoey. Ultimately the villain had run away.
The problem was, he wanted to stay. Of course he did. But he couldn’t, and had to find someone for Zoey. She needed a champion, sooner rather than later.
The thought physically pained him.
He wasn’t leaving her unguarded. He’d find someone even if he had to survey her Internet to do so.
~~~
Zoey turned to look at the handsome Highlander beside her. “What do you want to do?”
“We need to find ye a male.”
As far as she was concerned, she already had one. And he was certainly handsome. His dark eyes should be outlawed as one glance from him left her breathless. The new jeans looked great on his muscular legs, though in retrospect she had to admit she missed the kilt. His plaid shirt did nothing to hide the breadth of his chest or the muscles of his arms. He glanced over at her and awareness seemed to leap between them.
“We can play cards.” She truly wouldn’t mind sitting across from him and staring at his face.
“We’re to get on the Internet and find ye a male.”
She ignored his impatience, and her own. Why had she ever shown him the dating website? “We could totally watch a movie.” She also wouldn’t mind sitting beside him on the couch, and perhaps snuggling close. “We could see Braveheart. I bet you’d like it.”
“Zoey.”
The note of chastisement didn’t bother her in the least. “Or a John Wayne flick if you’d prefer.” She grinned, remembering his reference to the actor.
He shot her a pained expression. “While I would love to do all of those things, I can’t, and neither can ye. We must find ye a male. That’s to be our first priority. Perh
aps we could watch this movie later.”
She tried to appear hurt.
His jaw tightened, so she guessed she hit the right note.
“It’s been a long day so far.” She lifted a shoulder. “It’s time for an afternoon break. I just don’t think I’m up to doing this right now.”
“Ye are a fragile thing, I’ll give ye that. But we’ve no time to waste, so it must be done. Ye can sit in a chair and rest while we look at the men.”
She wasn’t fragile, and she didn’t like that he said it. She didn’t want him thinking of her that way.
She considered explaining she believed he was her fated one. She believed she’d already found the man she was meant to be with. That being the case, she had no interest in trying to find someone else.
She wanted to tell him all that, but couldn’t quite find the words. That was a lot to lay on a guy she’d known for less than a day. She didn’t want him thinking she was crazy. She didn’t want to chase him away, or determine she was a weirdo.
His big hand on her lower back, he led her to her computer chair. “Turn it on, lass.”
She reluctantly did so as he watched with interest.
“Where is the matchmakin’ site?”
“The computer is still warming up.”
They both sat in silence, and when her home screen finally flickered on, she didn’t move, but crossed her arms.
“Lass.” He voiced the word on a note of warning.
She begrudgingly clicked to the website, opened her profile, and started to scroll through the men who had recently attempted to contact her.
There was one in particular she hadn’t rejected yet, but knew she would because the bozo’s emails had been too forward. She turned to Aiden. “Am I to go on these dates alone, and come back and report to you?”
The sarcasm went over his head and he seemed to consider. Finally he shook his head. “Nae, lass. I’ll not leave ye alone. I will simply observe, and the men will be none the wiser.”
Perfect. Let him witness how awkward and painful the process was, first hand.
She clicked on Bozo’s profile. “What about this one?”
He studied the head-shot staged casual pose, and carefully read the words beneath his profile aloud.
