“Uh.” Denise pointed down the road. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing, or is sleep deprivation making me hallucinate? I knew we shouldn’t have driven all night.”
Katya lifted her gaze and groaned. “I told them not to do this.”
But, as usual, her family hadn’t listened to a word she’d said. Instead, they’d decided to welcome her home in their own special way—which involved everyone in the local amateur dramatics club.
“I don’t know what I’m looking at here.” Denise was wide-eyed with bewilderment. “You’ll need to translate, because my fine English backside doesn’t get this at all.”
Katya slumped in her seat. “See the banner?”
“How could I miss it?”
She had a point. Strung right across the street, it was wide enough to make Katya worry the plane might get tangled in it when they drove underneath.
“It says, ‘Katya MacGregor—Saved from the Fairies,’” Denise said. “In glitter.”
“My mother loves glitter. I think she got a bulk deal on it at some point, and now it goes on everything.”
“Focus.” Denise pointed at the banner. “Explain.”
“Okay, so there’s a Scottish folk tale about a man, Rory MacGillivray, who the fairies seduced into partying, and he couldn’t escape. His intrepid family saved him by literally dragging him out of his yearlong party.” She cast Denise a droll look. “Mum came to London last month and told me not to let the big city suck me in. Said it was all just smoke and mirrors, and it was time to come home.”
“Oh!” Denise burst out laughing.
“Yeah, oh.” She pointed at the little round ball of a woman barreling toward them and waving dramatically. “You’ve already met my mother. I think she’s playing the part of a fairy.”
“You think? She has wings.”
“In my family, wearing wings could mean anything.”
“And the guy dressed in traditional Scottish gear, looking like he’s just stepped out of wardrobe for The Highlander? I suppose he’s playing the father.”
“No, that is my dad. And that’s how he dresses every day. He says trousers are bad for his parts because they cut off the circulation.” Katya paused. “He’s an artist.” Really, that was the only explanation she had for him.
“Who’s the old man with the goat?” Denise gestured to an older man sitting on a deck chair at the side of the road.
“My grandfather. That’s his pet goat, Isla.”
“Any idea why Isla’s wearing a tutu?”
“She’s supposed to be a fairy?” Katya guessed as she slowed the truck to a halt.
Her mother plastered herself to the driver’s door, arms outstretched as though trying to embrace the truck. “My darling, my baby, my long-lost daughter has come home at last!” she called to the crowd before looking up at Katya, who peered down from the window at her mother. “Come, child, we have prepared a feast for your return. It has been far too long since I’ve seen your beautiful face.”
“Hi, Mum.” Katya didn’t bother pointing out they’d spent the weekend together in London not a month earlier. Delia Savage, who’d once played a corpse in an episode of Taggart and was in the middle of another grand performance, was rarely swayed by logic. “You do know that the fairies took Rory? If you’re welcoming me home, you should be dressed as my mother.”
“What kind of costume would that be?” her mother hissed. “This one is much more fun. And later, once we’ve all had some dinner, the group and I are going to perform fairy dances. Just like the jig Rory was forced to dance when he was taken.” She pointed at the rest of the amateur dramatics club, who waved excitedly.
“How do you know what dance he did?” Denise called, squishing into Katya’s space to grin down at Delia.
Delia winked up at her. “A fairy told me.”
“Don’t encourage her.” Katya pushed Denise back into the passenger seat.
Denise opened her mouth to speak, but whatever she was about to say was lost in the wail of an electric guitar.
Katya hung her head. “That’s my brother and his band.”
In her eagerness to get back to Invertary, she’d conveniently forgotten that her family still lived there. Was it too late to turn the truck around and return to London? She’d be more than happy for the fairies to seduce her there if it meant not having to suffer another Savage-family performance.
As the crowd started to sing, Denise grinned. “Is that…?”
“Aye. They’re murdering John Denver’s ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads.’”
“I’ll admit, I’m not familiar with Scottish folklore, but I’m pretty sure none of the stories would include a John Denver song.”
“Welcome to Invertary,” Katya said as Isla the goat escaped and took off down the high street toward the loch, her sparkly blue tutu bouncing as she ran.
2
There was a brand-new, shiny, and very large padlock on the gate to Katya’s property. Her shoulders turned to solid rock. Of course there was. Because nothing in life was ever easy—especially when it came to the MacGregors. One of whom was leaning against the post beside the locked gate looking nauseatingly smug.
“Holy Hotness, Batman,” Denise muttered as the truck came to a halt beside the man. “Is that your ex-husband? It is, isn’t it? Hubba-hubba.”
“What does that even mean? Hubba-hubba? And no, there is no hotness here.” Katya glared at Brodie. “Arseholes who lock people out of their own property are not hot.”
“The padlock isn’t hot. But whoa, baby, look at the man.”
“The man is responsible for the bloody padlock.”
Denise shrugged, and Katya was almost certain a little drool was coming out the corner of her mouth. “His actions don’t detract from his hotness. I could do a bad boy. Yes, I could.” She nodded as though agreeing with herself.
“You’re not doing my ex-husband. And I’m not arguing with you anymore because I need to get out of the truck and argue with him.”
“I’m coming too.” Denise scrambled for the door. “If he smells like a forest, all bets are off because I’ll have to get me some of that.”
Katya didn’t bother answering. Instead, she slammed the truck door and strode over to face off against Brodie MacGregor. The glimpse she’d gotten of him on the way through town hadn’t done him nearly enough justice. Age had taken the soft, raw material that’d made up the boy and honed it until he was all lean muscle and defined features. A brush of stubble emphasized his angular jaw, and his sharper cheekbones only drew attention to his dark blue eyes.
His lashes were still too thick and long for him, but the unruly cap of hair he’d sported in his teens had been given the short-back-and-sides treatment.
Katya hated to admit it, but Denise was right: Brodie was hotness personified.
She stopped with a few short feet between them. Folding her arms to hide her suddenly sweaty palms, she glared at her ex. “You have crow’s feet around your eyes.”
His eyes widened for a second, before he frowned. “Great to see you too, Kat. The extra pounds look good on you.”
Oh, now he was just being mean. One look at her would make it clear she was still the same size she’d been when she left him… Okay, well, maybe slightly curvier. It wasn’t that she’d gained weight; it was more a case of the weight she already had moving around until it decided her hips and boobs were the best places to settle.
She made a point of staring at his thick almost-but-not-quite black hair. “I know a tattoo artist in London who can fill in the gaps of a receding hairline. I could give you her number if you’d like.”
His hand twitched as though he wanted to run his fingers through his hair to be certain everything was where it should be. “Since we’re being so helpful, you might want to stop by the loch while you’re here. My granny always swore the water could clear up almost any skin condition.”
Skin condition? She had one teeny tiny pimple on her chin. You could barely see the thing!
“Okay.” Denise walked into the gap between Katya and Brodie and held up her hands. “Do you think we could stop this before the scratching and pulling hair starts?”
Brodie didn’t even glance at Denise as he answered her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re just two people exchanging pleasantries after years of not seeing each other.” He glared at Katya.
“If that’s what you call pleasant, I don’t want to see mean,” Denise muttered.
Brodie shifted his gaze from Katya, allowing her to breathe again, and flashed a smile at Denise. Katya did not like the gleam of appreciation in his eyes when they landed on her gorgeous friend. Nor did she like the way Denise cocked her hip and stuck out her chest.
“Well now,” Brodie drawled. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m sure I would never have forgotten if we had.”
Denise bloody giggled as she held out her hand. “Denise Abebe, the best friend.”
“Oh, you’re definitely the best.” Brodie held on to her hand a tad longer than was polite, making Katya want to smack both of them.
“I’m going to vomit,” she announced, and it wasn’t a lie. They were making her sick. “Don’t even pretend you have charm. Denise knows otherwise—when she isn’t thinking with her libido. And seriously, ten years as a single man, and your pick-up lines are that corny? I’m embarrassed for you.”
Brodie’s eyes turned flint hard. “Well, I’ve no’ exactly been single these past ten years, have I?”
Katya felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her head. “You’re in a relationship?” Her cheeks burned at the stupidity of the question. Of course he was. It wasn’t like he’d been in limbo since she left. Yet, it had never occurred to her there might be another woman in his life.
“I can see your travels haven’t made you any smarter.” Brodie dropped Denise’s hand. “When I said I’ve no’ been single, I meant I’m still shackled to you.”
His words barely registered, as Katya was too busy biting her tongue to keep from asking if he was in a relationship.
“Oh.” Denise sounded sympathetic. “I’ve just realized how difficult that must have made dating. It’s kinda hard to get serious with someone who’s still married.” She glanced between them. “You two really should have dealt with that years ago.”
“Now, why didn’t we think of that?” Katya said, still staring down Brodie. “Maybe because we couldn’t without losing the land. Which is why I’m here. I want access, Brodie. Take off the padlock.”
“You’ve shown no interest in the land for a decade. I assumed you didn’t want it, so I’ve made my own plans. And wouldn’t you know it? Those plans don’t include letting my estranged wife dump her relic of a plane on my land.”
“It isn’t your land. It’s ours.”
“Really?” He lifted an eyebrow at her, a vision of cocky arrogance. “I seem to remember Old Ben Baxter saying we should use the land to put down roots in Invertary. That he wanted to give us a future in this town. You can’t put down roots if you aren’t around to do it, now, can you?”
“I didn’t leave for good. I was only gone a few years. And now I’m back and ready to put down my own bloody roots.”
“Aye, well, you’re too late. There’s no space for your roots because I’ve already planted mine all over the land. Every square inch has been claimed by my roots.”
Denise raised her hand. “I’m confused. That sounds like you’ve been scent marking your territory. Please tell me you haven’t been peeing out there for the past decade. Have you?”
“He means,” Katya ground out, her gaze locked on Brodie, “that he’s already started implementing his plan for the land. What have you done?”
“What we’d intended to do before you ran off to play pilot. I’m building a house. The crew starts this week, and there’s nothing on the architect’s drawings that even remotely resembles a hangar for your plane.”
Fire coursed through her veins, searing her. “You can’t do this.”
“According to my lawyer, I can. As long as we’re still married, the land won’t revert to the Baxter Trust. But nothing in the stipulations of the gift says both of us have to agree on what to do with the land. Anyway, it wasn’t like you were here to discuss plans. It’s pure dumb luck you came back before the house was already built. But don’t worry, Kat. I’m sure you’ll find a parking spot for your plane somewhere.” Brodie grinned. “I hear they’ve got space at the dump.”
Oh, that was it. Now she was going to kill him. It didn’t matter that there was a witness. Denise was her best friend and would help her bury the body.
On. The. Land. She. Owned.
She managed one step toward him before the coward turned and vaulted over the gate. “See those little flames in her eyes?” he asked Denise. “They’re a sure sign you’re about to be on the receiving end of Kat’s right hook. Isn’t that right, darling?” He winked at Katya.
“I am not your darling.” Her words were a growl as she grabbed the gate, ready to launch herself over it and chase Brodie down to wipe that damn grin off his face.
“Are you seriously going to climb the gate?” Denise asked. “Am I supposed to stand here and watch you chase him around the paddock?”
“Don’t worry,” Brodie said. “She won’t catch me. Her legs are too short.”
Katya could barely see straight as she started to climb. Brodie MacGregor was the devil. Nobody could make her angry like he could.
She had one leg slung over the gate, when her phone rang with her mother’s ringtone—Bette Midler’s “Diva.”
Brodie burst out laughing. “You’re still using that ringtone for her? You’d better answer, or Delia will hunt you down. Guess chasing me around the paddock will have to wait.”
To hell with that. Her mother could wait. Katya jumped down into the paddock.
“Short legs?” she asked.
“Oh, crap,” Brodie said.
There was an ear-piercing whistle, and Katya turned to find Denise waving her phone before speaking into it. “She’s right here,” Denise, the traitor, said. “Wait and I’ll get her. Of course, it’s no problem.” She thrust the phone over the fence to Katya. “Stop acting like a preschooler,” she hissed.
“I can’t help it,” Katya said. “He makes me regress.” She reluctantly took the phone. “I’m a bit busy, Mum. What’s up?”
“Dinner’s in twenty minutes. I don’t want it getting cold while we wait for you.”
“We’ll be there,” Katya said on a groan. “I just have to deal with a little problem first.”
“Hi, Delia,” Brodie shouted.
Katya wasn’t fast enough to cover the phone.
“Is that Brodie?” Her mother sounded delighted. “Tell him he has to come to dinner too.”
“I will not!”
“Katya Jane Savage MacGregor, that man is still family, and unless you want to divorce him, it looks like he’ll always be family. Now, tell him I invited him to dinner.”
“No.”
Her phone went dead. A few seconds later, Brodie’s phone rang. He tugged it out of his jeans pocket. “Hi, Delia.” His eyes danced, and his smile was filled with evil delight. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to come to dinner tonight. Katya’s in a murdering mood. Aye, some things never change. Next Sunday? Of course I’ll come for lunch. See you then.”
He hung up and grinned that smug grin of his that made Katya want to strip him naked, tie him up, and leave him for the midges to feast on.
“You’re plotting something evil, aren’t you?” He took another backward step away from her. “You have that same look on your face you had when you were thirteen and told me you’d help me gel my hair so I could impress Mary Cameron. But it wasn’t gel, it was glue, and I had to get my head shaved to be done with it.”
Ah, good times.
But Katya was more interested in the present. “Take off the padlock so we can unload the plane,” she ordere
d.
“Sorry, Kitten.” Brodie shrugged. “Darach has the key, and he went home already. Looks like you’ll have to drive it to your mother’s.”
“There’s no way I’m moving it further from my land.” Her jaw hurt from tensing continually, making it difficult to get the words out. “Call Darach and get him to bring the key.”
“No can do,” the fool said. “It’s his night to watch The Bachelor, and nothing gets between my brother and his sad reality TV addiction.”
Katya clenched her fists, let her head fall back, and screamed at the sky.
“I think that means she plans on leaving the truck here,” Denise translated. “And I’m hoping she means to leave it after she’s given me a lift to her parents’ house. Because these shoes weren’t meant for walking across town. They’re vintage McQueen, and let me tell you, that man sure knew how to design a sexy shoe. Impossible to walk in, but sexy.”
Brodie looked bewildered. “He made shoes? I mean, each to their own, but making ladies’ shoes doesn’t really go with the man’s man image or his motor-racing obsession.”
“Not Steve McQueen, the actor,” Denise said with disgust. “Alexander McQueen, the fashion designer.”
“I want to be on my land!” Katya shouted at the top of her lungs.
“Aye, well, we can’t always get what we want, can we? I wanted a wife who meant it when she vowed till death do us part.”
“Right, that’s it. I’m going to drive through the bloody gate.” She stalked back to the truck, only to be blocked by Denise.
“You can’t.” Denise held out her hands. “The truck’s borrowed, remember?”
“Tell you what,” Brodie said. “Since I’m a gentleman—”
“Ha!” Katya barked.
He blithely carried on. “How about you leave your plane here, and I’ll give you a lift to your mother’s? See? There’s no reason why this has to be uncivilized.”
Katya took a deep breath. It didn’t help, so she took another. Nope. Still not calm.
“Before she rejects your offer,” Denise rushed to say, “I accept for both of us.” When Katya started to object, Denise talked over her. “Don’t mess with me. These shoes might look fabulous, but my feet are killing me. We’re taking the ride.”
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