Page 29 of Highland Stars
“I mean, not usually. But this is fiction, and we can do what we want.” I repeat his words to him even though they make no sense.
“We’ve taken the ship way off course again. But I’d be delighted to tryyour gravy, if you’re up for cooking.”
“I am! So … they are going to fight her for her chocolate.”
Malcolm takes the last bite of his sandwich, and I have no idea how he’s had time to eat it. “She charges valiantly with her sword drawn, only for it to be knocked from her hand by a man who was ten feet tall.”
“Scary. Was there no one on the ship who could help her?”
“No. She was the captain and lost her crew along the way. But here’s the thing … that man is your fifteen-times-great-grandfather.”
“The ten-foot-tall bad man? Surely not.”
“That very man.” He’s being so dramatic. Acting like this is a one-man show, and, honestly, I’d go see it every night it was offered. “He looked down at the captain and said, ‘You are a brave one, but I will fight this battle for you.’”
“How romantic. Did he murder them all?”
“I’m concerned you think murder is romantic.” He leans across the table, studying my eyes with concern. His are the loveliest shade of bright blue; they’d remind me of cotton candy, if cotton candy were a little darker.
I take my eyes from his intense gaze and look once again at my potato. “Those were two different sentiments. I’m actually quite concerned about having a murderer for an ancestor.”
“No need to worry, at least on this occasion. He stepped between her and the bandits and half of thempeed themselves and ran off, while the other half passed out on the spot.”
“Wow. That must be why I’m so tall and intimidating.” I’m definitely tall, but I’m not sure anyone would call me intimidating.
Malcolm chokes on a laugh. “That definitely explains it.”
“So what happened next?”
“She shared her chocolate with him, and the rest is history.”
18
Malcolm
Ican’thelpbutwatch as Makenna takes the last bite of her meal. She’s so beautiful and her bonnie pink lips are like a neon sign calling to me across a dark street. I’m going to expect some sort of award when she’s gone and I’ve kept myself from kissing her.
And the award for endurance of restraint goes to Malcolm Robertson.
I don’t want that stupid award.
I stretch my back and make an embarrassing old man sound. I hope Makenna didny notice. I’m only thirty-three, but the mattress in the guestroom is hard, and my body has been screaming at me all day.
“You alright?” she asks, and the concern on her face is sosweet and genuine. Why does she have to be so bloody endearing?
“My back’s a little off today, dinnae worry.”
She narrows her turquoise eyes at me. “Dinnae worry, indeed. It’s the guest bed, isn’t it?”
How did she know? “Aye, but I’ll be fine. I’m going to put a quilt or two on top of it tonight to make it softer.”
“No, sir. You’ll be back in your room tonight. I loved your mattress, but mine at home is firmer. I’m used to it. I’ll change or wash the sheets as soon as we get back.”
“I’m not concerned about sleeping where you slept.” Actually, I am, but not for the reasons she’s thinking. I’m afraid of what being surrounded by her scent for hours might do to me. Although it's only been one night, it might not be so bad.
Who am I kidding? Even the thought is giving me a blasted thrill.
“Alright.” Makenna shrugs. “I’m not concerned about sleeping where you slept either. I guess I’ve already done it, haven’t I?” She sips her water, and I could swear she’s hiding a smile.
