by Vines, Jolie
With a happy smile, she offered up a brush and a handful of twisted hair bands. I grinned and sectioned out her thick, golden hair, arranging it into three for braiding.
“Ye know, brushing your curls out will just make it frizzy. My cousin Viola has curly hair, and I learned that from her.”
“Did ye do each other’s hair?”
“Sometimes, but Scarlet, my mother, used to do mine for me every morning,” I said softly. “I went through a stage of wanting fancy hairstyles. I made Viola compete with me over who had the most complicated style.”
“What sort of thing did you have?”
“French plaits. Smooth buns with tiny plaits teased in. For about six months, we tried everything. Viola is more of a tomboy but ultra-competitive, too.”
“You can do that for me,” Isla decided. “Come to breakfast every day.”
I sucked in a breath but focused on the task in hand.
This was…weird. But also lovely.
When I glanced up, Lochie rested a shoulder against the kitchen entrance, watching us.
I gazed right back.
“Da, can you make me toast? I can’t move while Cait’s doing my hair,” Isla interrupted.
“I will. Caitriona?”
“Toast sounds good.”
He set about it then we ate together at their small dining table, Isla crowing over a friend she’d made at school who always had pretty hair.
Too soon, breakfast was over, and I returned to my cottage to start my own day. I showered and dressed for work, sitting down to my laptop in time to see Lochie and Isla leave for school. I waved, and they waved back, Lochie linking his gaze to mine, loaded with meaning.
A strange feeling, present since I woke, buzzed in my chest.
Maybe it was an intense kind of sympathy for the little family. I wanted to help Lochie with his problem of telling Isla her background.
That was it. A simple need to fix a problem.
I rested my chin on my hands, my gaze distancing as I recalled Lochie’s story. The danger his friend was in had clearly driven him to extreme action, but then again, that was his personality type. And his background with his mother fleeing his da. He’d made no reference to regretting it, and he adored his daughter beyond anyone or anything. His protective instinct drove him. It was there in every act, not just in his job.
Lochie was the perfect father for that child. His ex-wife had chosen well.
About half an hour into my working day, my phone buzzed with a text in Lochie’s name. I’d changed it from Lochinvar Ross to Lochie, and the appearance brought a smile to my face.
Lochie: Thank ye for last night. I don’t think I said.
Caitriona: I should be thanking you.
Lochie: How do I insert an eyeroll? Ye know what I mean.
I grinned wider.
Another message arrived.
Lochie: Will ye tell me more about your problems at work?
Caitriona: If you like. It’s strange. My coat was stolen, and my lunch eaten. I’d dismissed it as an accident, but they put the lunchbox back in the fridge including the empty packets.
Lochie: Anything else?
Caitriona: My emails were hacked. I think. There were several opened that I hadn’t read. Tech Support told me to change my password, but it happened again.
Lochie: Anything personal in those emails?
Caitriona: My contact with the fertility clinic I’m going to use.
I typed, deleted, then retyped the last text. There was no reason to feel strange about telling Lochie my plans. He already knew, and it was relevant to his question.
His response took a while to come in.
Lochie: Ye suspect your boss, aye? What did he do? Be explicit.
Caitriona: Overly friendly at first, then there was this weird meeting where he started talking about how well-made his kids were, and how I shouldn’t leap to fertility treatment.
Putting it like that, Rupert couldn’t be more of a prime suspect.
Lochie: How did he act after seeing me in your home?
Caitriona: He sent his PA to tell me I needed to work in the office more.
Another message landed, but from a social media site. I opened it.
Cait, it’s Jude. I forgot to get your number, but Chelle and I are excited about dinner. See you tonight!
Ah God, I’d forgotten all about that. I readied to send a cancellation. Then again…
Jude was Rupert’s nephew. I could pump him for information. I replied with my address.
Then I tapped out another message to Lochie.
Caitriona: I’m having dinner with his nephew tonight so I’ll try to find out more then.
No reply came, and I lost myself in emails for a while.
By lunchtime, Lochie hadn’t written back. I frowned at my phone then read over our conversation. I’d expected some words of wisdom from the man for whom protecting people was his be all and end all.
I paused on the last message. Was it the dinner with another man?
Amusement came on the back of my surprise. I’d never had a relationship before, and this short-term one presumably didn’t have the same rules, but I was almost certain the huge mountain man Lochie was sulking.
Grinning, I added another message.
Caitriona: …and his fiancée.
Lochie’s almost instant response cracked me up.
Lochie: Good to know. I’ll see ye after they’ve gone.
* * *
A knock rattled my door at seven thirty on the dot. I scurried to answer it, wiping my hands.
Jude waited the other side. Alone.
He greeted with a quick kiss to the cheek.
“Hey. Ye found me easily enough. Where’s Chelle?” I ushered him in, peering at his car.
“Um, slightly awkward, but we argued about coming here, and she’s at home. I didn’t want to let you down so I came alone. Is this a bad idea? I can go.” He pointed at the door, his nose wrinkled and his lips twisted.
With his floppy blond hair and sweet face, I used to think him kind of cute, but that ship had long sailed.
“No, no. It’s fine. I’m sorry ye argued.” I gestured at the table.
Jude sat, his gaze flitting over my home. “It’s weird when you travel a lot. I think you forget social boundaries. I assumed Chelle would be fine but I was wrong. My bad.”
“Didn’t she want to come out?” I poured a glass of water from the chilled bottle I’d already brought out.
Now there was only two of us, grabbing a bottle of wine felt inappropriate.
“This is where it gets even more awkward. I made an epic mistake and told her that you and I had slept together. Eh. I always want to be honest with her, but in that, I think I should’ve exercised discretion.”
Discomfort tightened my tummy, and I wrapped my arms around myself. “It wasn’t like we dated or anything. Maybe you should’ve told her that there wasn’t anything there?”
Jude continued his examination of my home before settling his gaze back on me. “I did. Must’ve done it wrong.”
He probably shouldn’t have come here at all, sticking with his fiancée, but it would be rude for me to say.
“We can still have a catch up,” I said briskly. “I’ll serve up dinner and ye can tell me about your travels.”
Jude had always been good company and an excellent storyteller. I plated up dinner—spinach and ricotta cannelloni with a crisp salad—and listened while he picked through the best of his holiday stories.
By the time we were onto dessert, I’d relaxed some.
“How are you enjoying working at the university?” Jude asked.
This was my opportunity. “The work is fine, but I’m not sure I’d say I was entirely happy.”
“Is my uncle giving you a hard time? I’ve spent a couple of evenings with him, and he spilled a pretty big piece of news of yours. I’m sorry to tell you.”
I widened my eyes. “He did? That’s…”
“Vastl
y inappropriate and unprofessional? Yeah, it was. He’s acting kind of strange about it.”
“What did he say?”
Jude scrubbed over his hair, messing it. He peeked from under the strands. “Um, this is delicate. First, I should tell you that my mum won’t see him anymore. He’s my dad’s brother, but even after Dad died, Rupert used to still get invited to family dinners. But Mum stopped and she wouldn’t say why, other than he’d gone weird.”
“What did he say about me?”
“That you were going to have a baby without a husband. He doesn’t think it’s right.”
My blood boiled. “The nerve.”
“I know. That’s part of why I came here. I thought you needed to know and I didn’t know how to broach it. We haven’t seen each other in a while, but we were always good friends.”
Despite my upset at his uncle, warmth filtered through from my friend’s care. “I really appreciate that. You’re right, ye were one of my closest friends at university.”
“Right? I’ve thought about you from time to time and hoped you were doing okay. If you need to talk about any of this stuff, I’m still here for you.”
Decency shone from him. He waited on my word.
My phone buzzed on the counter. I reached for it and stared at the screen.
“Shite.”
“What is it?” Jude peered over.
I tapped out a reply.
“I’m so sorry. I’m going to have to cut our dinner short.”
“Oh, sad face! But it’s fine, I was about to go anyway. What’s happened?”
A knock came at the door, and I leapt to open it. Lochie waited the other side, already in his jumpsuit and with the air of urgency surrounding him.
“Sorry to interrupt. I could take her to the hangar, but she’s already in bed and asleep.”
I squeezed his arm. Late night call-outs happened, and I was more than willing to look after Isla.
“Go. It’s fine.” Then I mouthed where Jude couldn’t see. “I’ll wait up for ye.”
Lochie’s gaze darkened, then he glanced over my shoulder to my guest. Whatever he saw shrank the attentive look in his eyes. “Do ye want me to wait until you’ve locked up?”
“No, no. I’ll be fine.”
He left, and I remained at the door then turned to Jude.
My friend’s shocked gaze stuck on Lochie’s retreating car. “Oh my God. Who was that?”
I couldn’t help my chuckle. “Lochie. He’s the head of the mountain rescue. I sometimes look after his daughter when he’s on missions.”
Jude fanned his face. “Give me a knife and fork. I want to eat up that chemistry for supper.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, there might be some of that.” I’d never before been able to talk like this, but it was freeing. “He and I… Let’s just say we’re close.”
“But I thought you— Never mind. Minding my own business.” Jude grabbed his jacket and mock wiped his brow. “Never thought I’d see the day when you fell for a man. Right, I have to run. Next time my place?”
“Do you think Chelle will be okay with that?”
He blinked at me, already halfway out the door. “Uh, sure. I’ll talk to her. Until the next time.”
In a hurry, Jude was gone.
I grabbed my things, locked up, then went into Lochie’s cottage. I had decisions to make on work, as Rupert’s behaviour had gone from odd to unacceptable, but there was more to consider. Too much. My head practically ached with it all. I curled up on the couch and closed my eyes, letting my brain focus on one core thing. Lochie would come home and take me to his bed.
I wanted nothing more than that.
23
Lochie
Isla’s birthday dawned with bright skies and a smattering of snow fallen overnight. She burst into my bedroom at first light and leapt on my bed, a knee landing too close to delicate areas. I pulled her into a hug while she squealed with laughter.
After our near miss last week when she almost discovered Caitriona and me in bed together, Caitriona had been careful not to fall asleep. I teetered on the edge of demanding that she sleep in my arms. To acknowledge our relationship to the people closest to us. But it would mean too much to Isla if she knew we were together. She wouldn’t understand when it came time to leave.
My chest ached, and I held my daughter tighter. “What’s got ye all excited this morning?”
“Daddy! It’s my birthday. I’m seven today,” she said on a giggle.
“Naw, that cannae be right. I’m sure ye were born in the summer, maybe five years ago. Aye, that’s it.”
“Five? Da!” she chastised, her bright-blue eyes wide.
“Ah, maybe you’re right. Let me see if I got ye anything. Into the living room.”
She bounded up and out, and I followed, donning a pair of grey joggers.
At Isla’s shriek, I grinned widely. Last night, Caitriona and I had decorated the room with a banner and balloons, adding to the small number of Christmas decorations Isla had made. Ah fuck, Caitriona should be here to see this. It’d been her who’d sourced it all.
Isla grabbed a balloon and batted it at me then pounced on the wrapped gift and card on the table. “Can I open it?” Then she paused. “Can I fetch Cait first? We’re going to bake a cake today, so I don’t want her to forget.”
I breathed in through my nose, the ledge I hovered over too steep. I could say it was too early, or that Caitriona might still be sleeping, but it was no good. I wanted her here, too. “Aye, go to it.”
“Yes!” She planted her feet into her boots and was out the door before I took a step, her dressing gown flapping. “Cait?” She hammered on the door.
“Happy birthday, Isla,” Caitriona’s warm tones resounded.
My heart swelled.
Ah Christ, I was fucked.
Then the two appeared at the door, and Caitriona’s pretty gaze landed on me. I hadn’t bothered with a shirt, and her attention lingered on my chest.
I rolled my shoulders so my muscles tightened, earning a gleam in Caitriona’s eye.
In a matter of months, this woman had taken ownership of my brawny soul. She was far smarter than me, but I suspected she had no clue how deep the attachment between us could go. Her deal had been brave but it was also a front.
She wanted me, and I wanted her.
What a beautiful mess we’d made.
Pink-cheeked, she raised her eyebrows then turned back to my daughter who’d closed the door and kicked off her boots. “I can’t believe you’re seven today. Such a grown-up girl. Did ye open your present yet? Want another?”
Caitriona held up a hefty bag, and Isla clutched her balled-up hands to her mouth. She peeked at me, seeking permission. I dipped my head, and she tore into Caitriona’s gift ahead of mine.
A shredding of paper later, and she extracted a pile of pretty clothes. On top, a pack of hair accessories waited. I tended to buy functional clothes for Isla, no patience for the ridiculous outfits offered for girls. Daft slogans on the front, no pockets. Her unicorn onesie had been bought on pester power and was the exception to my rule.
Caitriona’s items hit a mark I’d missed.
Isla held each up in turn, cooing over the patterns and colours. Feminine yet well-made and still suitable for a child. The last item, a dress, nearly matched one I’d seen on Caitriona.
The woman in question peeked at me then raised a shoulder. “Once I started shopping, I got carried away. Scarlet came with me, and we picked out so many lovely things. I hope that’s okay?”
“I love it all. Thank you.” Isla hugged Caitriona tight, answering for me.
I let a soft smile be my words.
My own gift, a karaoke machine, finally received attention, and I had another hug before I was dispatched to make breakfast. Isla tried on her clothes, singing into her microphone. It being the weekend, we’d planned a morning hike before Caitriona and Isla baked the promised cake.
We’d never had this—an easy, hap
py family birthday morning. I could barely stand the tender flare of emotions inside.
Once we were ready to head out, I drove us to a spot Caitriona chose, finding my way over the now familiar landscape though lost in a mire of brand-new feelings. Even with my sister around, Isla and I had always been a unit of two. But my daughter strode ahead, crunching through the snow, hand in hand with Caitriona, and I never wanted anything so hard as this. Always.
Christmas was in two weeks. Somehow, Caitriona would be part of our plans.
At the base of the waterfall I’d trained the team at a while ago, Caitriona showed Isla what she called the unicorn pool. They threw pebbles in, and Caitriona told stories her da had told her about the spot.
How the magical unicorns had saved a man who fell from the hidden cliffs high above.
Isla lapped it up, happier than I’d ever seen her.
Caitriona’s phone buzzed. She frowned at the screen then tapped out a response while Isla scampered off, exploring.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“It’s Jude, the friend who came to dinner on Friday. He says he has something to discuss about his uncle. He’s asked me to come to Inverness later to meet him.”
I clamped down on a rush of dislike. The moment I’d laid eyes on the man in Caitriona’s cottage, I’d had a bad feeling. I knew I was overprotective, and alongside Isla, Caitriona was right at the top of the list of people I needed to care for, but it was more than plain chest-beating jealousy or even intuition.
Jude had smiled for Caitriona but thrown a meaningful look at me, challenging and smug. All men knew this specific expression. Unmistakable, it meant a battle for the woman.
His claim evaporated when Caitriona turned back, but the contact had served its purpose.
He’d set himself against me, the wee shite.
I’d never try to control Caitriona or who she spent time with, but the urge to warn her of his intent warred with my need to maintain the arrangement she’d struck between us. For her, we were just friends who had sex. I had no rights until she gave me them.