She stayed out of his way on the other side of the bed while he knelt beside the radiator, shining the torch’s beam on the valve. Ten seconds later, he stood.
“That was it?” she whispered in disbelief.
“That was it. You had the valve completely open. It really only needs a quarter turn.”
Serena followed him down the stairs, muttering to herself, “I should have had you do this in the first place.”
“Do my ears deceive me, or did Serena Stewart just admit defeat?”
Serena made a face. “Not defeat. I did turn them on; I just never knew radiators needed to be balanced.”
“Sorry about that. I should have insisted on doing it.”
“You wanted me to come running for help.”
“And you did. You simply lasted twelve hours longer than I anticipated.” He threw her a grin, but his tone was almost self-deprecating. An answering smile rose to Serena’s face. He could get some serious mileage out of this one, but he was being kind. He packed his tools again, then stood. “I’ll wait a couple of minutes to make sure the other ones are heating.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry I got you out of bed in the middle of the night.”
“Don’t worry.” His smile flashed, just as mischievous and suggestive as ever. “I can think of several ways you can make it up to me.”
She quelled the answering jitter in her middle before it could get started. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”
“Serena, why do you keep pretending this thing between us doesn’t exist?”
“I’m your boss, and apparently now you are my landlord. Other than that, we don’t have a thing.”
“We have a thing, whether you admit it or not. But if the fact that we have a work relationship bothers you, we can set some ground rules.”
“What would those be exactly?”
“Work stays at work. Home stays at home. And while I do have a certain responsibility as a landlord, I doubt midnight repair calls are part of the job. So I think you might owe me.”
The teasing tone was back, but something unsettlingly intense had crept into his eyes. She swallowed. “You’re very persistent.”
“You have no idea.” He held her gaze a moment longer, then nodded toward the bedrooms. “Why don’t you check the other rads so we can go back to bed?”
It was the escape she’d been waiting for. She rushed to Em’s room first, then Max’s, both of which were beginning to heat. Thanks to Malcolm. As much as she hated to admit it, she really did owe him.
“Good?” he asked when she returned.
“Yes, thank you.” She paused. “I mean that.”
“You’re welcome. Sleep well.”
She closed the door behind him and resisted the urge to peek out the window. He was right, though. They did have a thing. She just had absolutely no idea where it would lead.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SERENA HADN’T BEEN IN THE CROFT HOUSE for two days before Muriel called to summon her and the kids for dinner. It didn’t take much to figure out why: it was Monday, and Muriel had invited her usual guests. Serena’s attempts at declining met with little success.
“What do you mean you won’t be able to come?” Muriel said. “I’ve made two whole chickens. I know you’re not asking me to waste an entire chicken.”
So at ten minutes before six, Serena parked her car in front of Muriel’s house and let herself in. As expected, her aunt was bustling around in one of her old-fashioned aprons over a tailored dress, looking like a 1960s housewife. “I’m here. What do you want me to do?”
Muriel shoved a wooden bowl of mixed salad greens across the island to Serena. “I’ll take your reluctance to come tonight as a sign you like the croft house.”
No, it was a sign that she didn’t want to see Malcolm after their oddly intense encounter, but she couldn’t say that. She picked up the salad tongs and began to toss the greens in the dressing. “It’s actually perfect. Very peaceful.”
“And your new neighbor?”
She should have known this was where the questioning was leading. “I haven’t seen him much, though he was kind enough to come turn on the radiators when we moved in.” Serena repressed a smile at her revisionist version of the truth.
“Oh, he did, did he?”
Serena ignored Muriel’s amusement. “The croft house isn’t fully stocked, though, so I’ll need to make a trip back to Nairn sometime this week.”
“Why not just have Jamie get your things? They’ll be here in another few weeks.”
Serena fixed her aunt with a reproving look. “That’s not until June. I can’t do without my pots for two months. Besides, do you really think he would bring me the right items?”
“Jamie? If they’re cooking or wardrobe related, yes.”
Serena chuckled. There was some element of truth in that. Her younger brother had a better sense of style than Serena did, and most of her kitchen equipment had been gifts from him. Still, she wasn’t going to have him riffle through her unmentionables. “Best I do it myself, Auntie.”
“Why don’t you leave Em and Max here, then? No reason to subject them to six hours in the car.”
“I’d thought I’d make it an overnight trip. You don’t want to chase Max by yourself for two days . . .”
Muriel fixed her no-nonsense gaze on her. “May I remind you that I survived you and your brothers? I imagine I could handle your very well-behaved children for two days.”
It would be convenient to make the drive alone, without the inevitable stops that came with a recently potty-trained toddler. Just as Serena opened her mouth to agree, a crash and a scream from one of the bedrooms cut her off.
Serena raced to the source of the sound, where she found Max sobbing amid a pile of books, the shelf above him listing precariously on one bracket. “I want the book!” he wailed, pointing a finger at a volume two shelves up before bursting into more piteous crying.
Serena scooped him up, wiping away the tears trailing down his chubby cheeks. “But, Maxie love, you shouldn’t have climbed the shelf to get it. Ask Sister next time.”
Max directed a glare in Em’s direction with all the three-year-old fury he could muster, to which Em simply gave an innocent shrug. Too innocent. Em had likely told Max to get it himself, with predictable results.
“I’ll get it for you now, and then we’ll go read in the lounge. Em, please pick these up, and we’ll fix the shelf later.”
Em complied without argument, confirming Serena’s suspicions. Serena took the volume down—a board book about trucks—and walked Max out to the lounge. With the exception of a little red patch above one eyebrow, he looked none the worse for wear. The tears seemed mostly born of indignation, considering how quickly they disappeared when she started reading about all the different kinds of trucks and lorries.
By the fourth time through, Serena was about to shed some tears of her own. When a knock sounded at the front door, she was halfway to it before Muriel called, “Serena, dear, will you get that? Malcolm must be early.”
Sure enough, Malcolm stood on the front porch, a toolbox in one hand, Kylee behind him. He gave her a slow smile, which quickened her heartbeat with annoying alacrity.
“You know,” she said as she stood aside for them to enter, “most men bring wine, not a toolbox.”
“Who says I don’t have a bottle stashed in the bottom of this?”
“Do you?”
“No, but I’m insulted by the assumption.” He winked, and she rolled her eyes at him. He pushed by her and went straight to Max. “Hey, little man. What’s up?” He ruffled her son’s hair before continuing into the kitchen.
“Hi, Kylee,” Serena said. “Dinner will be in a few minutes. You can watch some telly while we wait if you want.”
“That’s all right. I can help.” Kylee followed her into the kitchen, where Malcolm was standing with Muriel.
“Malcolm is going to look at the sink in my bathroom,” Muriel said. “It’s been draining sl
owly. Could you show him where it is, please?”
Serena shot a reproving look at Muriel, who gave her the same innocent expression Em had tried earlier; then she jerked her head at a still-grinning Malcolm. “Follow me.”
She took him through Muriel’s old-fashioned but pristine bedroom to the small, updated en suite. “That sink right there, in case you were unable to surmise that on your own.”
Malcolm set down his toolbox beside the pedestal sink. “You seem uncomfortable, Serena. I thought you appreciated my ability to fix things. At least you did the other night.”
“Very funny. Are you all set in here? I’m going to go help set the table.”
“You mean you don’t want to stay and be my lovely assistant?”
“I’m sure you can manage without me. And while I’d love to see you try to make unclogging a drain look sexy, I don’t think you can pull it off.”
“You underestimate me.” He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off to reveal a snug black T-shirt that most definitely did show off his muscular upper body to advantage. Whether it was by calculation or an accident, she had to clamp her lips together in order not to laugh.
“I think I’ve estimated you exactly right. Don’t take too long. We’d hate to start dinner without you.” She went back to the dining room, where Muriel had already put Kylee to work setting the table.
“Need any help?” Serena asked.
“No, I’ve got it.” Kylee set down all the forks and knives in the proper order, the water glasses set precisely at the upper right of the plates. “My mum was a bit of a stickler for manners and table settings and such.”
“She taught you well.”
“It’s not like we have much of a chance to use it. We don’t have guests.” She shot Serena a crooked smile. “And Uncle Malcolm can’t cook.”
Serena returned the smile. There was no reproach in the girl’s voice, just a simple statement of fact. But it did make Serena wonder about the arrangement. Clearly Malcolm loved his niece and was doing his best for her, but what had happened to her parents? How had she been left in the care of a bachelor uncle? She’d meant to ask Muriel more than once, but she’d been afraid her aunt would take her interest to mean something else entirely.
“Did I miss dinner?” Malcolm popped his head into the dining room. He was wearing his button-down again, though he hadn’t fastened it up.
“Just in time. Did you repair the sink?”
“Simple fix.” He moved past Serena and lowered his voice so only she could hear. “And I looked sexy while doing it. Shame that you missed it.”
The laugh bubbled up inside her again, but she managed to capture it just in time, even if she couldn’t control her smile. “I’ll have to learn to live with the disappointment.”
Malcolm left the room, and she heard him talking to Muriel in his usual cheerful tone. When she turned back, Kylee was watching her.
“You like my uncle?”
“Yeah,” Serena said brightly. “Of course I do.”
Kylee just looked at her with an expression that said she was too smart to believe that evasion. Serena cursed her carelessness. It wouldn’t do to flirt openly with Malcolm if she didn’t want to answer a bunch of embarrassing and irrelevant questions. Not that she’d intended to flirt. It had just sort of happened.
When they finally all settled around the table, six of them circling what looked like enough food to feed a dozen people, Serena found herself sitting directly across from Malcolm. She tried not to focus on him, but every time she looked up, he was watching her with that thoughtful expression, as if she were a mystery to be solved. Serena volunteered to help clear the table, just to get away from him, but on her second trip back to the dining room, Em called to her from the reception room. “Mum, come play Snakes and Ladders with us!”
“As soon as I finish here.” A touch of mischief welled up. “You could ask Malcolm. I know for a fact that he loves to play games.”
“As appealing as that sounds,” Malcolm said from the doorway, “I have to drive Kylee home before I head back to the bar. Owen rang in sick.”
There seemed to be a spate of that lately. Even considering the unseasonably cold weather, Serena would have hoped their staff would be more reliable. She needed to address the personnel situation soon. “If you want, I can take her home when we’re finished. It’s no trouble.”
Malcolm looked surprised. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Of course not. I owe you one, after all.”
“That’s not exactly what I had in mind,” he murmured, his gaze once more sending a tingling to her toes. “But I’ll take what I can get.” He settled at the table with Em and Max, and Serena took the only open space beside him on the floor. Immediately she realized that Malcolm had a completely different set of rules for Snakes and Ladders, and his were much more fun. He made his pieces tumble down the snakes, screaming in a high-pitched cartoon voice while Max squealed with childish laughter. Every time the kids looked away, he switched their pieces. When it was her daughter’s turn, he counted loudly to distract her, earning a giggle from Em. Even Kylee and Muriel were smiling at his unconventional rules.
After some questionable scorekeeping by Malcolm, Max won the game and proceeded to jump on the couch to celebrate his victory. Malcolm straightened and made a big show of stretching. “I need to go to work now, but you owe me a rematch, Max.”
“What’s a rematch?”
“It means he wants to play again so he can try to win.” Serena guided Max off the sofa before he managed to tumble onto his head.
Max looked pleased with the idea. “Okay.”
“You’re still fine with driving Kylee home?” Malcolm asked.
“Of course. We’ll leave in a few minutes.”
“All right. I’ll check in later. Kylee, come get your bag and guitar from my car before I go.”
Em looked at Kylee with excitement. “You play the guitar? I play the piano.”
“Do you? I’d like to hear that.”
“Okay! Maybe you can play your guitar too.”
“It’s a deal.”
Kylee slipped past Malcolm, who looked uncertainly at Serena. “I really hate to ask you to do this.”
“Now who’s having trouble accepting help? Just say thank you. And that we’re even.”
“Even, huh?”
She stared him down until he chuckled.
“Fine, we’re even.”
“Was it that hard?” she asked, throwing his own words back at him.
Mischief sparkled in his eyes, and he moved close enough to murmur in her ear. “Careful. Someone might get the idea you have a sense of humor.”
“I have a sense of humor. I just don’t find you all that funny.”
“Liar.”
She was preparing a retort when Kylee came back in with her schoolbag and sticker-decorated guitar case. Instead, Serena simply said, “Go. I’ll get her home.”
“Thank you,” he mouthed, then gave Kylee a quick hug.
Em bounced on the sofa impatiently, her attention fixed on the teen girl. “You go first.”
Kylee took out her guitar and strummed it a few times, making an adjustment to a peg or two. Then she began to play. Kylee’s voice was undeniably good, with a smoky quality that Serena associated with folk singers. She began to listen to the lyrics, and it was all she could do not to let her mouth drop open. When the girl was finished and the group was done applauding, Serena asked, “Did you write that?”
Kylee nodded with a shy smile. “I played it at the school talent show last year. Though I keep changing it up a little.”
“You are very talented. Are you going to study music at university?”
Kylee shifted in a way that made Serena think it was a sore subject. “I hope so. I’d like to record a demo this summer too, though.”
“I think you’re smart to keep all your options open.” From what Serena could tell, the girl had loads of natural talent, but it wasn’t likely to g
et nurtured to its full potential on Skye. Impulsively she said, “If it’s all right with your uncle, I’d like to introduce you to some friends of mine—they’re professional musicians. Davy fronts a band and runs her own record label, and Glenn is a session player. They were both my dad’s students at one time.”
Kylee stared at Serena with an expression of wonder and suspicion. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know talent when I hear it, and I know artists need to be developed. Davy and Glenn might be able to give you some practical advice.” They would be encouraging, Serena knew, but realistic. The music industry was a difficult one, and they would undoubtedly urge Kylee to take her education as seriously as her songwriting.
Em jumped in to show off her newly mastered “Für Elise,” cutting off the rest of the conversation. Serena watched Malcolm’s niece and hoped she hadn’t just overstepped her bounds.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“MUMMY. Mummy, wake up.”
Serena pried her eyes open as a hand softly patted her cheek and found herself looking straight into the eyes of her son. The filtered light pouring in through the uncovered windows said it was early.
“Morning, lovie.” She lifted the covers so Max could climb into the warmth beneath the duvet with her. “What are you doing up already?”
“There’s someone at the door.”
“You probably dreamed it.” Serena closed her eyes, praying that Max would get the hint and go back to sleep.
“Mum! There’s someone at the door.”
Serena sighed as Em bounded into the room and flung herself onto the end of the bed. So much for going back to sleep. She pushed herself upright, shivering at the cool air that nipped the skin left uncovered by her skimpy pajama top. “Who is it?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t open it to look.”
Serena swung her legs over the side, reached for her oversize cardigan, and wrapped it around herself as she descended the steps to the ground floor. She yanked the front door open and found herself looking straight into Malcolm’s deep-brown eyes.
Serena reached up to smooth her hair before she could stop herself. “Good morning. What are you doing here?”
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