by Anna Durand
"What about watching Ms. O'Shea?" the security man asked. "We were told that's our primary job."
Keely waved her hand. "I'm right here, boys. Everyone is watching me at the moment."
Ignoring her, I told the security man, "Protecting Miss O'Shea is your priority, but I will take care of her while you lot look for whoever was watching us."
"Yes, sir."
I turned to leave, hesitated, and looked back at the security man. "What are your names?"
The sandy-haired man pointed at himself and his partner in turn. "I'm Randall, and that's Howard."
"Aren't you meant to blend into the background?"
"Mr. Hendry instructed us to be inconspicuous but to stay within sight of Ms. O'Shea at all times."
I had told Duncan the security men didn't need to be in full-on stealth mode, so I shouldn't have been annoyed with these blokes for sticking close to us. Maybe if the person watching us knew we had bodyguards, they might think twice about trying anything.
"Keep to your orders," I said. "Thank you both. And she's Miss O'Shea, not Ms. O'Shea."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
These men, or at least Randall, must have been former military. He said "sir" a fair sight more than the average Scotsman. Good. Ex-military men knew how to handle rough situations.
Keely and I walked back to the beach to collect the remains of our picnic.
"On a scale from one to ten," she said, "how terrified should I be right now?"
"Honestly?"
"Yes."
"Between five and eight."
She snatched up the blanket and began folding it. "The man who's always specific to the fourth decimal place is being vague. This sounds very bad, Evan, and I'm not being sarcastic."
"You might be right about this being very bad, but there's nothing we can do about it this afternoon."
Keely stayed quiet while we tramped back to the car. I hadn't meant to frighten her so much, but I had needed to convince her there might be danger. She would be cautious if she understood the risk.
The security men were already in their car.
I kept Keely's hand in mine when I approached the sedan. She might as well hear whatever the security men had to say. When Randall rolled down the window, I asked, "Did you see anything?"
"Marks that might have been footprints, but we couldn't say for sure. If there was someone watching, they've probably left the area."
"All right. Stay a little closer behind us on the road."
"Yes, sir."
Keely leaned around me to smile at Randall. "Thank you."
"It's our job, Miss O'Shea."
When we got back to our vehicle, Keely held out her hand. "Keys."
"No."
"You've been driving for hours, and you're anxious about these threats." She wiggled her fingers. "Hand over the keys or I'll dig them out of your pocket myself."
Since the keys were in my trouser pocket, the last thing I wanted was Keely thrusting her hand inside to probe around for them. I needed to stay alert and vigilant. Her fingers that close to my cock would not help me focus.
"Okay," she said, "here I come."
She slanted toward me, her hand moving down, aiming for my pocket.
I grasped her wrist to stop her. With my other hand, I fished the keys out of my pocket and dangled them in front of her.
She grabbed them. "Thank you."
While she settled in behind the wheel, I climbed into the passenger seat. My knees hit the dashboard. I adjusted the seat and buckled up.
"Don't worry," she said. "I'll keep to the left side of the road."
If only that were the worst of my fears.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Keely
Evan gave me directions as I steered the car down the tree-lined road toward North Ballachulish. The trees gave way to open road when we got within sight of the town, and I navigated over the Ballachulish Bridge, trying to safely admire the view of the conjoined lochs without driving us off the bridge. On the other side of the water, we took a right toward the village of Ballachulish. He instructed me where to make turns after that, and I focused on keeping to the left side of the road.
When we made the last turn, onto a dirt road, I was gripping the wheel firmly with both hands. Evan's anxiety seemed to have infected me. He had the security situation in hand, and I trusted him to watch out for both of us. Meeting his mother was a different story. What if she hated me? I was a dirty cougar after all.
I guided the car around a curve, and his mother's house came into view.
The home was a modest-size, one-story structure painted white with blue trim. Flower boxes lined every window on the front side, their cheerful colors bright in the sunlight. An older-looking car was parked in front of the house.
Evan told me to park behind the other vehicle.
We had barely gotten out of the car when a woman rushed out of the house. She seized Evan in a bear hug and kissed his cheek.
"Gràidh," she said, a hint of moisture glimmering in her eyes. "I havenae seen ye in so long."
Evan's face was pinched, but he put his arms around his mother.
She pulled back to study her son, her hands clasping his arms. Her gray hair hung in loose curls, framing her lovely face. Despite the wrinkles that lightly lined her face, deepening around her eyes and mouth when she smiled, the woman didn't seem all that much older than I was. Evan had never told me her age. He hadn't wanted to say much of anything about his mother.
"Oh dearie," his mother said, clasping her hands to her breast. "Ahm so happy to see ye."
"Aye, Ma," Evan said, his mouth quirking into an affection expression. "I gathered that from the way you were suffocating me with a hug."
She sniffled. "It's been so long."
He snared me around the waist and hauled me against his side. "This is Keely O'Shea, Ma. Keely, this is Aileen MacTaggart, my mother."
Aileen's joyous expression crumbled. Her lips cinched into a pucker.
"Say hello," Evan said to his mother. "Keely has come a long way to meet you."
"Could've come before you left the country instead of spiriting my son away to America." Aileen squinted at me. "How old are you, Miss O'Shea?"
An explosive breath burst out of Evan. "For Christ's sake, Ma, what does that matter? I love Keely, and you will be kind to her or I will never come back here again."
I believed him about that, but I didn't want to be the latest reason he shunned his own mother. I had no illusions I could mend the rift between them. Still, maybe I could ease the tension of this moment.
"Ms. MacTaggart," I said, offering my hand to her, "it's a pleasure to meet you."
She accepted my hand, barely shaking it, her gaze wary. "You can call me Aileen."
"Thank you, Aileen." Peripherally, I noticed Evan's attention shifting back and forth between me and his mother. "I'm forty-one, by the way."
Aileen froze. Her eyes flew wide. She acted like I'd announced I was an alien from a distant galaxy who enjoyed interspecies orgies.
Evan held me a little tighter, his body tensing.
I was about to speak---to say what, I had no idea---when Aileen snapped out of her shock and squared her shoulders.
"Pleased to meet you," she said to me. "Come into the house and we'll have a piece. You must be hungry after your long drive. Do you like tea, Keely?"
"Yes, I do."
Our picnic had been a few hours ago, and I was getting hungry again.
Hand in hand, Evan and I followed his mother into the house, down a short hallway, and into the kitchen. A small, round table occupied one corner of the space. Aileen invited us to take a seat while she organized a quick snack. I took the chair next to Evan, settling a hand on his thigh under the table and giving it a light squeeze. He smiled tightly.
Aileen brought us plates, smiling almost as tightly as her son had, and set one plate in front of each of us. "Hot
cross buns. The tea is steeping, but you can start on the buns."
Evan eyed the food, his mouth twisting like he couldn't decide whether it was safe to eat. He pushed his plate with one finger, then pushed it the other way.
I leaned in to whisper, "Don't like your mother's cooking?"
"She's a fine cook. I used to eat these buns by the dozen."
"Why aren't you eating, then?"
He grumbled.
I decided that meant he was stressed about the mother-son reunion. While Aileen fussed with teacups, I pulled a piece off my hot cross bun and popped it into my mouth. It tasted faintly of lemon and had bits of dried fruit mixed into it. The top of the bun seemed to have been glazed with fruit jelly or jam.
Swallowing the food, I told Evan, "Your mom is a great cook. The buns are delicious."
Aileen returned to the table with a tea tray. As she set it down in the center of the table, she offered me a cautious smile. "Keely, I'm sorry for being unfriendly to you. I had no idea Evan was seeing anyone. I was surprised and let it show too much. Please accept my apology."
Shifting in my chair, uncomfortable despite the cushioned seat, I smiled at Aileen. "It's okay. I understand I'm a bit of a surprise."
"Aye, a surprise for sure. But a good one." She shot her son a look of disapproval tempered by affection. "You didn't need to keep your lass a secret, mo luran. She's lovely."
Evan studied the bun on his plate, picking at it with his thumb and forefinger.
"I donnae even mind," Aileen said, "that she's almost the same age as I am."
His hand coiled into a fist on the table as he looked straight at his mother. "Keely is not almost the same age. She's eight years younger than you and eleven years older than me. That's nearly even between us."
Aileen held up her hands. "Didnae mean offense. I'm trying to make conversation."
"Then ask Keely something other than her age."
Was he sensitive about our age difference? Since I'd first told him how old I was, he had insisted it didn't matter to him. This was his mother, though, and everybody got a little anxious about introducing a new girlfriend or boyfriend to their parents.
I squeezed his hand where it lay on his lap. His other hand stayed fisted on the tabletop.
Aileen turned to me. "Tell me a bit about yourself. I want us to get acquainted, especially since it's clear you mean more to Evan than any other lass he's...um...dated."
"It's okay," I said. "I know Evan hasn't had any serious girlfriends. No need to dance around it."
"Aye, he shags lasses and willnae even tell me their names."
Though she had a teasing slant to her lips and a teasing tone to her voice, it seemed lost on Evan. He scowled down at his hot cross bun.
"Mo luran," she said, reaching out to touch his hand, "I meant it as a joke. I'm glad you found a woman who makes you happy, and the fact you brought her here means it's more than a passing fancy."
His fisted hand relaxed, but he hunched his shoulders, his whole face pinched. Peeking at me sideways, he muttered, "She's calling me mo luran, a darling boy, like I'm a wee bairn."
Embarrassed? Evan? I hadn't known it could happen. I peeled his hand away from his thigh and threaded my fingers through his.
"Tell me about yourself," Aileen said to me. "Where did you grow up?"
For the next fifteen minutes, I told Aileen all about my childhood in Pennsylvania and Utah and my current job working at Vic's store. When she asked if I'd ever been married, I hesitated only for a second. I was involved with her son, in love with him, so I figured I owed her the whole truth about me. I left out the details I'd shared with Evan, giving his mother the abridged version. The longer we chatted, the more comfortable she seemed to become with the reality of her son's relationship with me and the less she seemed to care about my checkered romantic past. When she called me "gràidh," I had the feeling it was an endearment, an assumption Evan confirmed when he leaned close to whisper in my ear.
"It means darling," he said, "in Gaelic. Until now, she's only called me gràidh. She likes you."
His mother liked me. I got a strange thrill from knowing that.
Aileen got up from her chair. "I'll wash the dishes."
"I can do the dishes," I said. "You should sit and catch up with Evan."
"Oh no, you're a guest."
"Please," I said, getting up. "I insist. You welcomed me into your home and fed us a delicious snack. The least I can do is pitch in with the dishes so you can chat with your son."
Aileen sat back down. "You are a good woman, Keely. It's no wonder Evan loves you."
I patted her shoulder as I walked past and headed for the sink. While I washed the plates and teacups, Evan and his mother talked. I didn't intend to eavesdrop, but it was hard not to overhear when they were ten feet away. Evan updated his mom on his business activities and answered her questions about Tamsen and her family. Apparently, Aileen knew Tamsen because she had visited her son's headquarters quite often before the argument that had driven a wedge between them.
When Aileen asked how Evan and I had met, I stopped in the middle of drying a plate off with a dish towel. No way could Evan answer the question honestly. Nobody told a parent they met their significant other when they had sex in a Parisian alley.
Evan cleared his throat, squirming in his chair, making it creak a little. "I met Keely when she walked into my office a month ago. Her employer had sent her to negotiate a business contract with me."
Aileen smiled over her shoulder at me. "Evan has to do everything himself, doesn't he? Cannae let anyone else handle things that no other man in his position would do."
"I know," I said. "Evan's a control freak, but it's cute."
He narrowed his gaze on me in mock censure. "Keeping the reins in my hands does not make me a control freak. It's my company, in case the two of you have forgotten."
"Aye," his mother said, her eyes twinkling. "It's your company, but it seems like you've walked away from it lately. Keely must be the one for you if she can pry your fingers off those reins."
"Yes, Keely is the one."
He looked at me when he said it, and I got a little shiver from hearing the words. No man had ever called me "the one" before. Evan believed in fate, and maybe I was starting to believe in it too. He was definitely the one for me. I'd never felt that way with my exes. I'd loved them, but not like this, not so much that I got a warm shiver from hearing him say I was the one for him.
"When will ye marry?" Aileen asked.
I dried off another plate and set it on the counter. The mention of marriage didn't bother me the way I'd expected it would.
Evan went motionless, unblinking, his expression blank. He scratched his neck. "We, ah, haven't discussed it."
Well, that wasn't entirely true. Weeks ago, he had jokingly called me Mrs. MacTaggart and then asked how I would feel about it if he wasn't joking. The night I went to his new house, the one he'd bought for me, he had said I was the kind of woman a man wanted to marry. He hadn't popped the question. Other than those two passing mentions of marriage, we had not talked about it.
Did he want to marry me? Did I want to marry him?
I got out of needing to think about it, at least for a while.
Aileen stood and said, "Your room is ready. I thought Keely would be sharing it with you, but if she'd rather not, I have the guest room ready too."
"Keely's with me."
Aileen led us upstairs. She gave me a quick tour of the room where she processed the wool she got from farmers and promised to show me the clothing she knit from it in the morning.
Once Evan and I were in the bedroom with the door shut, I set my hands on my hips. "You didn't ask me where I wanted to sleep."
"With me. That's where you want to sleep." He pulled the quilt off the bed and tossed it over a chair in the corner.
"You made a decision for me. You know I don't like that."
"I apologize
." He pushed the covers back and sat on the bed. "Where would you like to sleep, Keely?"
He gave me a pleasant smile.
I moved in front of him so only a few feet separated us. "I want to sleep with you. But it would be nice if you asked me before assuming you know what I want."
"But I do know what you want." He grasped my hips and hauled me closer. "Took me a while to learn what you want, but I've always known what you need, mo leannan."
"It's polite to ask first."
He tugged me down to straddle him on the edge of the bed. "Keely, may I please have sex with you?"
"Your mother is sleeping two doors down."
"We had sex in your office. You weren't concerned about anyone else then."
"Your mother wasn't there."
"Ah, I see." He glided his lips up my throat, flicking his tongue out along the way to coax me into melting against him. "I can keep anyone from hearing the noises you make."
"I just met your mother. Don't want her thinking I'm a dirty cougar who has to seduce her son five times a day."
He picked me up and plopped me onto the bed on my back without even getting up. My legs wound up draped over his lap.
"All right," he said, patting my thigh. "We'll abstain as long as we're in my mother's house."
"Thank you." The last thing I wanted was to abstain, but I also didn't want his mother to get the wrong impression of me. My age had bothered her at first. How would she feel about me and Evan getting it on under her roof?
He crawled across the bed to lie down beside me. "We'll be staying at Iain's house after this. It's very large and has a guest room on the first floor, away from the other bedrooms upstairs."
"Doesn't Iain have a teenage daughter?"
"Yes, but I'm sure Malina has heard her parents having a poke. She won't be horrified if she overhears us." He rolled onto his side, slinging an arm over my midsection. "But I'm sure Rae will lock Malina in her room."
"How long are we staying with your mother?"
"A few days. She'll be coming with us to Iain's house after that." He gave me a sly look. "Don't worry. Ma will be upstairs with everyone else."
"Good."