Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“Cairstina,” I tell her. “Have a look.”
She looks at the girls, then looks around behind her. “I don’t see her.”
Mac chuckles. “She’s the one dressed like a—” He catches my eye and immediately thinks twice about what he was going to say. “The one who looks all dressed up and ready for a party,” he finishes.
Nan grins and takes another bite of biscuit. She swallows, and there’s a twinkle in her eyes as she grins at Cairstina.
“Now, I can’t say I don’t prefer the more wholesome Cairstina, but you do look lovely, my dear.” Her eyes grow wistful. “Aye, in my day….”
Cairstina smiles her thanks.
“My boys, why are you heading off into Inverness?” She looks out the window, frowning. “Och, It’s a dreich day.”
“Business, Nan,” Tate says, bending down to kiss her cheek. “Fancy some of those toffees in the shops I can bring home to you?” He knows exactly how to play his cards with Nan.
She grins and bats him away. “I try to tell you to be safe, and ya don’t pay me no mind, lads.” She looks back out the window. “Driving down that slope into town…”
“We’ll be fine, Nan,” Mac says. “Sky’s clearing up, see?”
We look, but he’s made it up. The dark gray sky looks terrible and ominous.
Nan sighs, lapsing straight into her thick brogue. “Right, then, I dinnae ken why you have to be so bloody pigheaded, the lot o’ you, but I’ll be sure to tell the staff to have food ready for you when you return.” She turns to Cairstina. “Has he fallen in love with you yet? If not, I may keep you for myself.”
Jesus, Nan.
Cairstina grins. I grab her hand and head to the kitchen for breakfast.
“She’s mine, Nan,” I say over my shoulder. “And I don’t share.”
* * *
Chapter Twelve
Cairstina
I feel like a completely different woman than I was when I first came here, and I don’t think it’s just because of these ridiculous “fuck me” heels and tight skirt. It’s something different.
Islan took me up to her room and pulled clothes out of the closet she shares with Paisley. It’s a large, walk-in closet teeming with clothes. The clothes she gave me were hidden, and she winked at me.
“These are the clothes we use for clubbin’,” she said in a whisper. “It’s better if my brothers don’t see them, if you catch my drift.”
I do. I imagine it’s a bit stifling to have brothers like Leith and the rest watching your every move. Hell, even her parents don’t seem as strict as her brothers, but what do I know.
I stood in front of the mirror, shocked at how different I looked. Between the clothing and wig, it’s like an alien life form’s taken over my body.
She even slid bright red lipstick on my lips. I’d never choose something like this to wear myself, but honest to goodness… I feel sexy.
But that’s not the only reason I feel so different. As I pile into the car with Leith, Mac, and Tate, I feel for the first time in a very long time that I belong somewhere.
It’s an odd feeling, and logic tells me I’m being silly and foolish. I’m not their friend, but their captive. And though they may be friendly to me, it doesn’t take much imagination for me to realize what they could do to me.
It was only a few days ago I saw Leith murder someone with his bare hands, and the others unblinkingly haul the dead body to a hiding place. These aren’t the type I should want to befriend. And yet…
“Jaysus, brother, I know you’ve got a pretty lass sittin’ next to ya, but there’s no fuckin’ need to be racing down the bloody mountain like a bat out of hell.”
I look over my shoulder at Tate, who looks a bit green around the edges, and smile.
Leith snorts and rolls his eyes. “I’m driving safe as a fuckin’ nanny, son, relax.”
I cover my mouth with my hand, not wanting Tate to see my grin. I love watching this relaxed version of Leith.
“Time for a pint when we get into town?” Mac asks, drumming his fingers on the window behind me. “I’d like to kick Dougal Reilly’s arse good and proper, then celebrate the occasion with a cold one.”
“Would fuckin’ love to do that,” Tate mutters. “What say you, Leith?”
I’d like that myself.
But it seems Leith’s back to his somber, brooding mood.
“Och, aye,” he says, and I wonder if I’m the only one that notes the tightness in his jaw, or the way his lips thin when he’s angry about something. “Might as well order dinner while we’re there. Grab a hotel room for the night? And while you’re at it, we can ring up some old friends, have a right good reunion?”
Mac blows out a breath behind me, and the car grows quiet.