She ignored the way his deep brogue sent shivers racing down her spine. “Where’s my plane?”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” It sounded like he was grinning while he spoke.
“This isn’t funny, Brodie. Where did you put her?”
“Her? Does she have a name then? Are you two besties? Do you snuggle up together on cold winter nights?”
“Tell me where my plane is,” she snapped.
“Temper, temper,” the idiot said. “I assume it’s where you left it.”
“Stop lying to me. You know full well it isn’t here, because you moved it. I swear, if anything’s happened to that plane, I will tie you to a barbed wire fence, before I reach down your throat and turn you inside out. Then I’ll chop off your head and play football with it.”
“Ew!” Denise grimaced. “Graphic. And, I suspect, impossible.”
Katya ignored her best friend as Brodie chuckled.
“That sounds interesting.” His tone made it clear he was unaffected by her threat. “But I’m at a loss to understand how it will get you your plane back.”
“Damn it, Brodie. I returned your SUV, so stop being bloody immature and tell me what you’ve done with my plane.”
“You didn’t return my car. You abandoned it on the road outside your parents’ house where anybody could have taken it.”
She scoffed. “Who? Nobody drives out that way.”
“Things have changed in the Highlands since you’ve been gone. There are a lot more people wandering about doing nefarious stuff.”
She wanted to scream, but she kicked a tree instead, grateful for her steel toe cap boots. “Is that your word of the day? Nefarious? I’m impressed. Now, where is my plane?”
“Sorry.” Brodie made pathetic rustling noises. “You’re breaking up. Must be a tunnel.” And then he hung up.
Katya let out a strangled cry of frustration.
“Don’t throw your phone,” Denise cautioned. “You can’t afford to replace it.”
Katya hung her head, closed her eyes, and took several deep breaths.
“People talk about their relationship,” Stephen said to Denise. “The way they were always fighting, or playing tricks on each other, or making out in doorways. Mum says they were Invertary’s Romeo and Juliet.”
“Romeo and Juliet killed themselves,” Denise pointed out.
“Huh,” Stephen said. “Sometimes Mum says they were like Bonnie and Clyde.”
“Also, dead. Killed by the police.”
“Rose and Jack?”
“Rose let Jack die to save herself.”
Stephen grunted. “Yeah, sounds like Mum was on the money with that one.”
“Enough,” Katya said. “We’ve more important things to deal with than Mum’s imagination.” She reached up to tighten the ponytail high on the back of her head, then tugged down the faded T-shirt she’d gotten free at an airshow in Germany years ago. Right. She was ready. “Where would Brodie hide a truck?”
A moment’s silence while they considered the options, and then, as one, they slowly turned to face the loch at the bottom of the hill.
“He wouldn’t….” Katya whispered.
“He did seem pretty pissed at you last night.” Denise came to stand beside her. Her lavender capri pants and bright yellow off-the-shoulder sweater served as a beacon to fashion in an otherwise green expanse.
“No.” Katya shook her head. “He wouldn’t….”
She honestly couldn’t think of anything else to say. Did Brodie hate her so much that he’d drown her plane? The one that had taken her eight years to find and ten years to save enough to buy? No. Surely he didn’t hate her that much.
Stephen sauntered over to stand at her other side. “If I was married to you, and you left me, only to come back to take my land, I totally would have dumped your plane in the loch.”
As the world blurred for a second, Katya grabbed hold of Denise’s arm to stay upright.
“Everybody in the car,” she ordered when she could talk again. “We need to get to the loch.”
Feeling nauseous, she climbed into the driver’s seat of her father’s antique Citroën 2CV. A car barely big enough for one person, let alone three. But even though her father had to drive hunched over with his knees at his chest, he deemed it an acceptable inconvenience, seeing as the car was French not English. As he’d told Katya many a time, a man couldn’t sell out his principles for a wee bit of comfort. And Fraser Savage intended to suffer in his Citroën until Scotland was independent and the English had to pay for the privilege of trading with them.
A noble argument—if a little nutty—but Katya suspected the real reason he held on to the ancient car was he was a cheap Scot who never let anything go. Which would probably explain why he hadn’t just traded the car in for a Japanese model. As far as she knew, he didn’t have a beef with the Japanese.
“The plane is insured, right?” Denise said as they sped down the winding road to town and the loch.
“With what? Every penny I had went into buying it and getting it here. I didn’t even have enough left over to hire a truck, remember? I’ll have to sell a kidney to pay Big Davy enough to replace his.”
Denise patted Katya’s arm. “I’m sure it’s fine. We’re probably overreacting and thinking the worst. Right?”
Nobody replied.
“You know she’s going to kill you, don’t you?” Darach said once Brodie hung up on Katya. “Or, at the very least, make you suffer the agony of her wrath.”
Brodie swung his feet off his desk and pulled in his chair. Their office was small, which meant four desks were crammed into a space designed for two.
“Aye.” He grinned, feeling pleased with himself. “But it’s worth the pain.”
“You sure about that? Remember that time you spray painted her bike pink because she was a girl?”
Brodie chuckled at the memory. He’d been twelve at the time and more than a little annoyed Katya could do more tricks on her bike than he could. The jealousy had soon passed, and he’d been proud of her skills, but while it lasted, he’d struck out—with pink paint.
“Remember what she did in return?” Darach broke into his reminiscing.
“How could I forget?” He’d rushed out of school, ready to cycle over to Katya’s to check on her because she’d been off sick that day. His bike had still been chained to the fence, where he’d left it, but the wheels were no longer round; they were square. “Still not sure how she pulled that off.”
“Well, Katya loves that plane way more than she loved her bike. If I were you, I’d be hiring bodyguards or running for the hills.”
“Good job I’m no’ as pathetic and cowardly as you then, isn’t it? She doesn’t scare me.”
Darach just laughed.
“Anyway, I didn’t damage her precious plane. I moved it.”
Darach shook his head slowly. “Aye, but you moved it into Kitty Baxter’s tractor shed—without her permission.”
Brodie couldn’t help but feel chuffed at his genius. “She’ll never think to look there.”
Especially seeing as nothing but bad blood had existed between the Baxters and the Savages for decades. Something that hadn’t been helped by Ben Baxter gifting Brodie and Katya a parcel of land for their wedding. Catherine “Kitty” Baxter had been none too pleased with her father’s bewildering decision.
Conall, their youngest brother, strolled in from the back room, a mug of tea in his hand. “We still talking about the plane?” He sat at the other desk across from Brodie and helped himself to a custard cream from the tin of biscuits sitting on top of it.
“What else would we be talking about? Heaven forbid it might be work.” Darach frowned at Brodie. “The Patels are coming in to talk about their house plans again this morning. You two have to be charming and accommodating. We need the work.”
Brodie and Conall groaned in unison. Along with their black hair, blue eyes, and an inability to walk away from a fight, the
ir frustration over the Patels’ ever-changing plans was something else they had in common.
“I’m sick of drawing up plans for those two,” Conall said. “Years I trained as an architect, only to spend my time moving a wall in the Patel house, then putting it back again two days later. This is agony.”
“Aw, is the little baby architect upset?” Darach drawled. At twenty-six, Conall hadn’t been qualified long, and his brothers never let him forget it. “With the amount of money they’re paying us, the least we can do is let them fart around with their house plans. It will eventually stop, and if we can get those plans signed off today, we can start scheduling the work.”
As project manager for their building company, Darach was keen to have everything written down and pinned to his noticeboard, in neat rows of colored paper. The brothers suspected Darach had a fetish for post-it notes.
Brodie was proud of their company. Without intending it, most of his brothers had chosen careers that fit seamlessly into a business they could all work at together. Darach was the organizational brain and the muscle. Conall was the architect and creative center. Brodie was the electrician, Bain the building and demolitions expert, and Kade was their carpenter. Only their two eldest brothers weren’t part of the business, mainly because they didn’t live in Invertary.
Even their dad, who’d worked as an electrician all his life, came out of retirement to help when needed—much to their mother’s relief, because she considered their father’s retirement punishment for her wild youth.
“Pass me the Patel file.” Brodie held out his hand to Conall. “Might as well go through it again before they g—”
Just then, the door slammed open, and Katya stalked in, flanked by her best friend and her brother.
And she did not look happy.
5
“Hello, Conall. Darach.” Katya gave them a nod before turning her laser-like attention to Brodie. “Hello, Satan’s Minion. Do you want to hand over my airplane before or after I beat you to death?”
“Just an observation, Kat,” Brodie said. “But it would be hard to turn it over when I’m dead.”
The only warning Brodie got before Katya flew into a Berserker rage was the strangled scream she emitted before launching herself at him. She knocked him off his chair, sending them both crashing to the floor. His shoulder struck the corner of the desk. The back of his head hit the carpet. There might have been pain, but Brodie was too busy fending off Katya’s frenzied attack to notice. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was attempting to give him a noogie. Next, she’d be twisting his nipples or trying to give him a wedgie. It was official—he was back in primary school.
“Stop it,” he snapped, struggling to capture her wrists. “This isnae fair. You know I won’t hit back.”
Apparently, Katya didn’t care how unfair it was, as she kept on wrestling him.
“You’re embarrassing yourself,” he told her.
“You’re embarrassing all of us,” Denise said.
“I’m fifteen, and even I’m mortified,” Stephen added. “I’m supposed to be the kid here.”
He had a point, but unfortunately, his sister didn’t want to hear it.
“I want my plane!” Katya’s voice was a roar against his ear. “Give me my plane!”
They rolled across the floor, and suddenly Brodie found himself on his back with Katya underneath him. With her legs wrapped tight around his waist, she had his throat in a choke hold. Or at least he assumed that was what she was trying to do. Mainly, she was squishing his jaw and shoulder while digging her heels into his abs.
With little chance of him choking to death anytime soon, he focused his attention on keeping her boots away from his groin.
“Give me my plane!” she yelled, making his head ring.
“I don’t have your plane.” It was like trying to reason with a toddler. Brodie caught Darach’s eye. “A little help would be nice.”
His younger brother sat perched against the edge of the desk, his arms folded. “Seems to me like you’ve got this whole acting-like-a-child thing down pat. Not sure how I could help improve it for you.”
“That’s no’ what I mean.” Brodie glared at his brothers. “One of you get her off me.”
Her arm tightened, squishing his face further into his shoulder. “Not until you tell me what you’ve done with my plane.” As she trembled beneath him, he wasn’t sure if it was from rage or something else. “Is it in the loch?”
“What the hell?” Brodie bellowed. “You think I’m capable of doing something like that?”
“I know full well what you’re capable of,” Katya hissed. “You’re capable of stomping all over your wife’s dreams because they don’t fit in with yours. And you’re capable of trying to snatch her land right out from under her nose.” Her heels pounded against his stomach. “Did you drive the truck into the loch?”
“No!” He tried to turn to look at her, but it was impossible. “Hell no. Darach, Conall, tell her.”
Darach ran a hand through his hair, looking worried. “Kat, you know Brodie. He can be a self-centered idiot, but he isn’t malicious. Do you really think he’d do something like that? To you of all people?”
“Aye,” Conall said solemnly. “I might have been a boy when you left, but even I could tell how much he loved you. He’d never do something like that. Especially to you.”
“People change,” Katya said, and it was scarcely a whisper.
Brodie’s hands tightened on her ankles. “Not in the ways that matter, they don’t. I swear to you, the plane isn’t in the loch. It’s safe and sound in Kitty Baxter’s tractor barn.”
Her breath hitched, and he stilled as panic surged through him. Was Katya going to cry? She never cried. Not even when she’d left him. His stomach clenched as he realized what that meant—she couldn’t cry for him, for their relationship, but she’d cry for her plane.
“You know where it is. Now let me go.” Brodie tugged at her legs. “This isn’t funny anymore. I’m damned insulted you’d think I’d drown your plane.”
At the sound of a throat clearing at the doorway, Brodie, along with everyone else in the room, looked over to see Mr. and Mrs. Patel staring at them, dumbfounded.
“Are we interrupting something?” Mr. Patel made a show of checking his watch. “We were meeting at ten, weren’t we?”
Darach was on his feet and crossing the room to the couple before Mr. Patel had finished talking. “You’re right on time.” His smile looked more terrifying than reassuring. “Come in, please. Don’t mind them. They’re…playing.” He made bug eyes at Brodie, obviously expecting him to come up with a better explanation for them wrestling on the floor.
Katya’s arms and legs fell away, releasing him. Brodie leaped to his feet before extending his hand to help her up. Thankfully, she took it without making a fuss.
Her hand felt warm in his but different from how it used to feel. Gone was the smooth, perfect skin of her youth. Now he felt the odd callus. It was the hand of a woman who worked hard and wasn’t afraid of the damage that came with it.
When she would have pulled away, he tightened his hold and tugged her closer. “Sorry about that.” Brodie smiled at the Patels. “We were messing around, entertaining my brothers. Not exactly work behavior, I know, but I’m just so excited to have my wife back home.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her board-stiff body into his side. “She travels for work, and this last trip was a long one, wasn’t it, honey?”
As he smiled down at her, he couldn’t miss the anger flashing in her eyes.
“Yes,” Conall said, distracting the Patels. “We hope this won’t put you off working with us. We can assure you that we’re professionals with extremely high standards...usually.”
Darach stared pointedly at Katya. “We don’t fool around like this on the building site. Isn’t that right, Kat?”
She glanced up at Brodie, her eyes narrowed, and for a split second, he thought she would ruin things for them purely t
o make him suffer. But when he realized what he was thinking, it brought him up short—Kat would never do that, just as he’d never destroy something she loved.
Guess they’d forgotten a whole lot about each other in the years they’d been apart. Or they’d learned not to trust what was right in front of them.
Katya relaxed into him, her arm curling around his waist as she smiled at their clients. The move was familiar. There had been times when he’d thought they were joined at the hip, and he’d always marveled at how perfect she felt against him. Two halves of a whole, fitting together seamlessly.
An ache throbbed deep within his body. Not two halves. Not a whole. Simply two people forced together again by circumstance.
“I must apologize,” she said smoothly to the Patels. “This is all my fault. I surprised Brodie this morning by sneaking up on him and launching a tickle attack that got out of hand.” She poked him in the side, where she knew he was particularly ticklish, to illustrate her point. And, no doubt, to piss him off further. “I know I shouldn’t have been playing like that at his workplace, but”—she shrugged—“I couldn’t help myself. I do hope you understand and won’t think less of Brothers Construction because of my behavior.”
Katya sounded so sincere that he would have believed her himself if his jaw wasn’t still aching from her badly executed choke hold.
The Patels shared a knowing smile.
“We were young once,” Mrs. Patel said, a mischievous glint in her eye. “We know what it’s like to get carried away with love, don’t we, dear?”
As Mr. Patel’s face turned an interesting shade of pink, Katya stiffened in Brodie’s hold, and his hand flexed on her waist. Both of them reacting to the same unintentional barb. Love. The Patels thought them in love—and it couldn’t be further from the truth.
Brodie took a deep breath and stepped away from Katya, suddenly needing to put some distance between them. “You should get going,” he said to her, carefully keeping his face blank lest she realize how much of an effect she had on him. “You need to pick up your plane, don’t you?”
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