Under Scottish Stars

by Carla Laureano

  “I’m not sure whether I should be insulted or not,” Malcolm said, his fingertip tracing the line of her collarbone.

  “Oh, no need to be insulted.” She forced herself to sober. “You just make me feel young again. I can’t remember the last time I snogged on the sofa. Don’t you find it funny?”

  “No, funny wasn’t the word I was searching for.” The sexy timbre of his voice gave her shivers, but the sparkle of mirth in his eyes made her smile again. “However, speaking of teenagers, I need to get home. Kylee is obsessing over her Advanced Highers, and she’ll stay up all night studying if I don’t make her go to sleep.”

  “Pity,” Serena said.

  He leaned in to kiss her one more time. “Indeed it is. But likely a wise idea. I’m not sure I can resist you and your temptress ways much longer.”

  “You just say that because you want me to send the rest of the crostata home with you.”

  “Not at all. Because then I wouldn’t have an excuse to come back.” He enfolded her in his arms and dipped his head to whisper in her ear, “Without a doubt, you are the best part of my return to Skye.”

  Serena flushed to her roots as they said their good-byes and she closed the door behind him. Her heart hiccuped again in a disturbing fashion.

  There was no use denying it any longer. She was well and truly in love with Malcolm Blake.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  OVER THE NEXT COUPLE OF WEEKS, Serena and Malcolm fell into a pleasant routine. Sunday mornings were spent together at church with Muriel and the kids, followed by afternoon roast dinner before Malcolm had to return to the hotel. During the week, Serena spent each morning at the hotel setting up ads, finalizing the boxed-lunch menu additions, and taking photos for the new blog while Max was in preschool. Most of the time Malcolm let her handle the front desk while he did maintenance- and inventory-related tasks, but that didn’t prevent him from pulling her into the supply cupboard whenever he had an opportunity to get her alone. Say what she might about the dangers of interoffice romance, it had its perks.

  Malcolm found her one afternoon standing in the parlor and staring at the wall with her hands on her hips.

  “You look deep in thought.” He rested his hands on her waist and pressed his lips to the top of her head.

  “This room is underutilized. We originally intended to use it for afternoon tea, but guests rarely attend.”

  “What are you thinking instead?”

  “Art.”

  “I don’t understand. We have art.”

  She turned and he released her. “No, we have decor. I mean fine art. What if we were to leave the furniture but turn the space into a display for local artists?”

  Malcolm stared past her at the walls, now covered with reproductions of old masters, trying to catch her vision. “Like a gallery?”

  “In a sense. But shown in a way that people could envision it hanging in their homes. Rotated frequently. We could put small cards about the featured artists in the guest rooms. What could be a better memory of a romantic holiday than artwork created right here?”

  Her excitement was irresistible: the sparkle in her eye and the flush in her cheeks made him want to kiss her then and there. “Where would you get the art?”

  “That’s not a problem. Do you remember the big canvas hanging in Davy’s lounge? That’s by a local painter. The artist community is small and tightly knit, so as soon as word gets out, we’ll be flooded with interest. Especially considering we draw a demographic that would actually buy fine art.”

  “I really think you have something. Are you going to clear it with Jamie and Ian?”

  “I’m thinking about setting it up before they come into town for Muriel’s birthday. That gives me a little more than a month, but it’s possible if I start immediately.”

  “Right. Jamie e-mailed to confirm their rooms.”

  Serena’s expression turned guarded, and Malcolm knew what she was going to say before it left her lips.

  “I understand if you’d like me to keep a low profile,” he said. “It’s a family gathering.”

  “No! I was going to ask you if you would like to come. As my date.”

  His eyebrows lifted. She was ready to make their relationship public? To her family? “Are you sure?”

  “Well, the staff knows already—”

  “Thanks to the supply-cupboard incident.”

  “And it won’t stay a secret for long once Jamie starts talking to the employees. But even so, I want you there. It’s time.”

  Maybe a family dinner was a normal event for some couples, but he knew this was a major step for Serena. Despite the fact they were in clear view of whatever guests might enter, he bent and kissed her. “I’d love to. Thank you for asking me.”

  “You’re welcome. Now I have some calls to make if I’m going to put this together before they arrive.”

  Malcolm reached for her. “I take it back. I don’t like this idea at all.”

  She grinned and ducked out of his grasp. He watched her go with a renewed sense of wonder. Maybe it was that he had finally gotten to know the real Serena Stewart, or maybe she had changed, but this vibrant, flirtatious, passionate woman who got excited over new ideas hardly resembled the uptight owner who had chewed him out a month ago. Dare he think it had something to do with him?

  She’d certainly made an impact on him. He’d returned to Skye out of necessity, and he’d made the best of it out of pride and self-protection. But only now did he feel like he was making a life.

  A life that was about to have more free time, apparently. He’d forgotten to tell Serena he’d found a strong candidate for the assistant-manager position. Soon he’d have more time to spend at home with Kylee . . . and Serena.

  That was probably a good thing, because the minute he walked through his door that night, Kylee practically descended on him. “I can’t do this! It’s hopeless!” She paced the lounge with furious steps, an open textbook in her hand. “Why did I ever think this was going to work?”

  Malcolm put his hands on her shoulders to stop her pacing. “Back up. What exactly is hopeless?”

  Kylee snapped the book closed. “This. I’m going to flunk the exams, and my offers will be rescinded.”

  Now it made sense. The first of her SQA exams—the Scottish exit examinations—was in only three days, and Kylee’s offers to the University of Glasgow and the Royal Conservatoire hadn’t been as flexible as she’d hoped, requiring her to pull one A and two Bs to keep her spots. Privately, Malcolm would be surprised if she didn’t earn all As, but that didn’t make the pressure any less real for her.

  “What can I do?”

  She froze, clearly not expecting that response. “I—I don’t know.”

  “The study halls are open for the next couple of days, right? And they have tutoring available through term break. Would it make a difference to have someone else help you prepare?”

  “Maybe,” Kylee said slowly.

  Malcolm didn’t think she really needed the extra help, but at least now she was thinking past irrational panic to solutions. “Why don’t you go wash, and I’ll make you something to eat. Okay?”

  “Okay.” She brightened a little. “Thanks.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.” He went to the kitchen to put on water for tea and rummage for a snack, wondering if he was doing the right thing. Should he be insisting that she would be fine instead of validating her worry? Once more, he regretted missing so much of her life by staying away from Skye and realized how little he actually knew about his niece. It should be Nicola here to reassure her and make midnight snacks. Maybe the fact he wasn’t as close worked in his favor because she thought he’d be honest with her. He had no idea. But his focus had to be on Kylee.

  He cut up some fruit and placed it on a plate along with leftover slices of Irish cheddar, then took it up to her room. Once she was back to the books, he took out his phone and dialed Serena.

  “Just couldn’t stay away, could you?�
� The mere sound of Serena’s voice lifted his spirits.

  “Something like that. Actually I wanted to tell you I might be a little scarce the next few weeks.” He related his conversation with Kylee and the impending exams.

  “I completely understand. Kylee comes first.”

  “Thank you.” Relief rushed through him, making him glad once again that Serena wasn’t the demanding sort. “I did forget to mention before you left, though. I’ve found someone for the assistant-manager position. Can you be there at ten tomorrow to meet her?”

  “Her? How very egalitarian of you.”

  Malcolm chuckled, remembering how Serena had accused him of chauvinism soon after she’d arrived on Skye. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

  “Your surprises are a good thing. In fact, it’s one of the things I love most about you.”

  He held his breath at the word love, even though it was clearly out of context. “Maybe I should come next door and—”

  “Kylee, remember?”

  “Right. Kylee. I’ll see you tomorrow, though?”

  “It will be the best part of my day. Good night, Malcolm.”

  Malcolm smiled as he ended the call. He might surprise her, but she still surprised him with the place she had taken in his life. For the first time since he’d returned to Skye, he actually felt at home. Serena’s presence, and that of her children and Aunt Muriel, filled the blank spots in his life he hadn’t noticed were empty.

  He couldn’t help thinking what it would be like to not have to say good night by phone, to have her here in his home, in his bed, every night for the rest of their lives.

  Serena saw Malcolm at the hotel each morning, but she couldn’t deny that she missed their nightly routine of tea and dessert after the children went to bed. Of course she understood that Kylee came first, and with only six weeks left until the gallery’s soft opening, she had plenty of work to occupy her time. The cards for the room binders needed to be finished by the end of the week if they were to be printed in time, and the plans for the grand-opening reception still needed to be finalized.

  By Thursday night, though, she couldn’t resist the urge to go next door regardless of what she’d said about Kylee being the priority. She packed a shopping tote with a couple of packages of biscuits, as well as a fresh batch of shortbread she and Em had made after school. At the last minute, she threw in a couple of pieces of fruit. Who knew if Malcolm’s sketchy culinary skills extended to buying fresh produce?

  She left Em and Max in front of the television with coloring books, then walked next door in the fading evening light, shivering in the cool breeze. She’d forgotten her jacket again.

  Dull, rhythmic thuds drifted toward her when she approached the front of the house. Frowning, she changed direction toward the back garden, avoiding the water-filled potholes in the gravel walk. A few dozen meters away, Malcolm, dressed in ratty tracksuit bottoms and a long-sleeved thermal shirt, circled a large boxing bag hanging on the frame of an old play set. More thuds rang out as his gloved fists impacted the vinyl surface of the bag.

  Serena leaned against the corner of the house, transfixed by the sight. He’d said he’d only been an amateur and now simply boxed to stay in shape, but there was something in the rhythmic, confident way he threw punches that suggested he was nowhere near a novice. A smile came unbidden to her lips. No sense in denying it: his ability to work a punching bag like a pro was about the sexiest thing she had ever seen.

  Malcolm never looked up, but his teasing tone drifted to her on the breeze. “Did you need something, miss, or did you just come to watch?”

  Her smile widened to a full-fledged grin. “Don’t mind me. I’m just enjoying the view.”

  He gave the bag one last hard shot with his right hand, then straightened and started in her direction, his half smile driving a twist of anticipation into her stomach.

  He stripped off his gloves and tossed them aside when he reached her, then caught her around the waist with his still-wrapped hands. “Like what you see?” he murmured in her ear.

  She shivered again, this time not from the cold, as his lips found her neck and finally her mouth. When they came up for air, she gave him a playful—and ineffectual—shove. “You’re all sweaty.”

  “You didn’t seem to be complaining.”

  She laughed and ducked out of his reach. “How’s the studying going? I brought Kylee some snacks.”

  “That’s very thoughtful.” He bent to retrieve his gloves from where he’d discarded them and inclined his head toward the back door in invitation. “According to her, she failed her first exam today. Which I expect means an A is forthcoming.”

  Serena laughed and moved with him into the outdated kitchen. Supper dishes were still in the sink, but otherwise it was cleaner than she’d expected. She began to unpack the biscuits and fruit onto the table. “I understand that. I panicked over my exams too. Good food helps.”

  “That it does.” He moved to the stairwell in the hall outside the kitchen, unwinding his hand wraps. “Kylee! Serena brought you something.”

  “Be down in a minute!” she called back.

  Malcolm came back to rummage in the fridge and emerged with a carafe of juice. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “No, thanks. I need to get back in a minute. I only trust Em and Max alone for so long.” She watched him surreptitiously from across the kitchen, distracted by the way the thermal outlined every muscle in his lean torso to where it disappeared into the waistband of the low-slung track bottoms. “You still seem really serious about the boxing. But you don’t ever intend to compete?”

  “No, those days are long past. Besides, there’s no proper club on Skye. I wish there were. It would have been good for me when I was a kid. I had a lot of spare time on my hands.”

  “Maybe you should start one.”

  He frowned. “A boxing club? I was just an amateur with a handful of fights. I’m no trainer.”

  “Maybe not a proper club, exactly, but an after-school program. You’re excellent with kids.”

  He looked intrigued by the suggestion, but before he could say more, Kylee burst into the kitchen. She stopped short in the doorway. “Those are for me?”

  “They are,” Serena said. “I thought you could use more brain fuel. When are your other exams?”

  “Two next week, and then two more the week after that.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do well. If you need anything, I’m right next door.”

  Kylee smiled shyly. “Thanks, Serena.”

  Serena glanced at her watch. “I should get back now.”

  “I’ll walk you,” Malcolm said.

  Serena said her good-byes to Kylee and then stepped outside with Malcolm. As they walked to her house, his hand found hers in a gesture that felt at once ordinary and perfectly right. They lingered on her front step with a long kiss.

  “Thank you for thinking of Kylee.” He still held her close, his head tilted down to hers. “She may not show it, but those things mean a lot to her.”

  “I like doing it,” Serena said. “I was thinking . . . if it’s okay with you, maybe you two could come over to celebrate after she’s finished. Muriel always made a big deal out of it for us. I’d like Kylee to have that memory too.”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  He stole a kiss, then another, then a third before Serena laughed and shoved him away. “Family responsibilities call. Go.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” His playful look threatened her resolve. “Good night.”

  “Good night,” she said, so softly she was sure he didn’t hear her. She watched until he disappeared down the drive, wishing for things she had no right to expect, things she’d promised herself she wouldn’t want.

  Two weeks later, on the evening following Kylee’s last exam, Serena pressed Em into service to help with the bread and gave Max the task of setting the small kitchen table for five. She’d chosen a menu she knew everyone liked: herb-roasted chicken and potatoes, a s
pring bean salad, and trifle for dessert.

  “The food smells good,” Kylee said as soon as she and Malcolm arrived. “It’s really nice of you to do this for me.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” Serena said. “How were they?”

  “Not as difficult as I expected. You were right.”

  “Then we really do need to celebrate,” Serena said. “Take a seat. I’m about to put everything on the table.”

  Em, Max, and Kylee immediately pulled up chairs, but Malcolm stepped up behind Serena, slipped his arms around her middle, and pressed a kiss to the spot just below her ear. She sighed and leaned back against his chest for a moment. It felt good to be open with their relationship, to show affection in front of their families, even if Em always wore a hopeful look when they did.

  “Why don’t you grab the chicken,” she murmured, “while I finish with the salad.”

  “Buzzkill,” he whispered back, but he let go and took the platter to the table. She succumbed to the pull of the domestic scene, the fantasy it brought to life. What would it be like to have a real family? A husband who came home after work and sat down to dinner and played with the kids? Who helped with schoolwork, tucked the children in for the night, and then pulled her into their bedroom to make love to her, even though toys still littered the lounge and dishes were soaking in the sink?

  She’d convinced herself that was just a foolish fantasy while she was with Edward, but looking at Malcolm now, teasing Max and Em at the table, she actually believed that sort of marriage might exist.

  After dinner, which they devoured in record time, Serena served up the trifle. “This might be our last chance to look at the stars before we lose full dark. What do you think?”