by Anna Durand
"I—It seemed like—" Alex darts his gaze left, right, up down, like his mother's question has him in a near panic. But he gets hold of himself after a few seconds and tells her, "Things ended badly, but we've reconciled."
Henry looks puzzled. "Why did you never mention living with a woman?"
"Alex is very private," I say, then I feel like an eejit for saying it. They know him better than I do. Or do they? I'll have to ask Alex about that later. "You know how he is with secrets."
"Oh yes," Imogen says, nodding. "Alex has always needed to keep certain things to himself. But he's a good boy, and we love him dearly."
I swear Alex blushes.
He aims his attention at the floor, clearing his throat. "Since Henry is all right, I suppose Cat and I should head home."
"Please stay," his mother says. "We would love to get to know your sweetheart. Please, Alex, stay for a few days."
"Fine, yes. We'll stay."
Since it's almost dinnertime, Imogen announces she will make us a "good, hearty meal" because she knows "Alex likes to live on restaurant food, which isn't healthy." I offer to help her with the cooking, and we go into the kitchen while Alex moves into the armchair beside Henry's recliner so the two of them can talk.
Alex's parents are the sweetest people I've ever met.
While Imogen and I make dinner, she tells me stories about when Alex was a laddie. We laugh at his childhood antics, and I tell her some of what Alex and I did together when we knew each other the first time, along with a few things from more recently. She loves the story of how Alex showed up at my brother Rory's castle and wore the pink kilt I gave him as a joke. I leave out the bit where Alex almost got crushed under a caber. I do share the times he has attended MacTaggart family gatherings and the humorous moments that came out of those encounters with my overprotective brothers and cousins.
Imogen beams when I tell her Alex and my cousin Logan have become good friends. "I'm so glad my boy has a friend. He never wanted to get close to anyone when he was in school. His past made it difficult for him to trust anyone."
"Aye, Alex told me all about Nigel and Julia."
She stares at me, her surprise evident on her face. "Alex told you about them? He never talks about Nigel and Julia. He must really love you."
My heart skips a beat when she says that. Does Alex love me? He hasn't said it, but then, he might not even if he felt that way. Like Imogen said, his past makes it hard for him to trust anyone. Maybe he worries I'll leave him again, the way I did twelve years ago. Everything is different now, and I need to show him I won't run away this time.
I hear laughter coming from the living room, and I can't resist peeking out there to see what Alex and Henry are doing.
Alex is leaning over the arm of his chair to get closer to Henry. They both grin and laugh again, I assume because Alex told a joke. He slaps his father's arm and smiles even more broadly.
I've never seen him so happy, except for those days when we lived together. He loves his parents, and they love him. Tears sting my eyes. My throat constricts. I love him. So much. I want to see him happy, but I never thought I would. Yet here he is laughing with his father, looking so much like the man I used to know.
After dinner and cognac, which I learn is Henry's favorite evening cocktail, Alex and I retreat into his old bedroom. He tells me he bought this house for his parents not long after they all moved to America, but he'd lived in Fernley with them only for a few months, until he'd gotten a job in New Mexico. He used to sleep in this room when he came for visits, but I know from Imogen that Alex hasn't been here in two years. I ask Alex about that after we undress for bed. Aye, we're sleeping naked together, but we're both too exhausted to do anything more than talk and go to sleep.
"Why haven't you seen your parents in two years?" I ask while I nestle under his arm on the bed.
"I don't know. Every time they asked me to come here, or suggested they might go to Montana, I told them no." He trails his fingers up and down my arm, seeming lost in the memories. "They would want me to tell them what I've been doing, and I suppose that's why I've stayed away."
"But why don't you tell them? It's not like you're a criminal."
"Aren't I? Borrowing items from museums isn't an above-board way of doing things."
"You always return the things you borrow."
He wriggles like he can't get comfortable. "I've also slept with more women than I'd want my parents to know. Every time I see them, they ask if I'm dating anyone. All I can say is no. Shagging women just for the hell of it doesn't count as dating."
"My family doesn't know about all the men I've shagged either."
"Please don't tell me how many men you've been with." He gives me a quick squeeze. "I can't promise not to get insanely jealous of every bloke who's had the pleasure of enjoying your body."
"We won't talk about our past lovers."
"Agreed."
We fall asleep in each other's arms and don't wake up until nearly ten o'clock the next morning. Alex and Imogen make breakfast, giving me time to get to know Henry. He has an impish sense of humor and a deep vein of kindness running through his soul. I met Alex's parents yesterday, and already I adore them.
After breakfast, Alex goes into the garage to get some tools so he can fix the leaky sink in the bathroom. He comes back from the garage looking exasperated.
Imogen and I are sitting on the sofa while Henry lounges in his recliner.
"What happened to the car?" Alex asks Henry. "The rear bumper is crumpled."
"Oh that," Henry says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Some blighter backed into our car in the parking lot of the grocery store."
"Why haven't you gotten it repaired? The other person's insurance should pay for it."
"Ah…" Henry grimaces. "We don't know who did it. The accident happened while we were in the store."
"But why haven't you fixed the damage?"
"Too expensive. It still runs fine."
Alex throws his head back and groans. "Dad, you don't need to worry about that. How many times have I offered to buy you a new car? You should've told me about this."
Henry shrugs, seeming embarrassed. "I don't like to ask you for help every time something goes wrong."
"For heaven's sake, Dad." Alex shakes his head at Henry. "We are going to buy you a new car today."
And we do. Alex tries to talk his father out of going along on our car-shopping trip, but Henry insists his ankle is much better today. They compromise—Alex agreeing to let Henry come along, and Henry agreeing to use his crutch. The four of us pile into the car Alex had hired at the airport when we arrived in Nevada. It's not a luxury model, but then, we'd been forced to take whatever the agency had left. Last-minute travel doesn't come with all the perks. At the dealership, Henry and Imogen wander among the vehicles hunting for one they like, while Alex and I straggle after them.
When Alex notices his parents admiring a used car, he calls out to them, "New cars only, please."
"Used ones are just as good," Henry announces, "but they're cheaper."
"Forget the bloody price tag. Pick a new car."
They give each other mulish looks, then Henry relents and shepherds his wife back into the area designated for new models. They're looking at compact cars when Alex rushes over to herd them toward the luxury models.
"You need a comfortable car," he tells Henry. "You lot aren't twenty anymore. Your arthritis won't like a hard seat, and you'll have a bloody awful time squeezing into a compact car."
"It's too expensive," Imogen says.
"For the hundredth time, ignore the price tag. Choose a car you like, not one you think is affordable."
Henry and Imogen finally agree to look for a higher-end vehicle and start exploring the options.
Alex and I follow at a slower pace, holding hands, so we can talk. When we stop so his parents can explore the interior of a model they like, I rest my chin on Alex
's shoulder.
"I'm confused," I say. "You said you invested almost all of your money in building your house. How can you afford a luxury car for your parents?"
"The bulk of my disposable income went into the house," he says, "but I never said I was destitute. I told you I kept some."
"But you led me to believe you don't have much money."
"Is it my fault you assumed that?" He sighs, lifting our joined hands to wrap his free hand around them. "Honoria Parker, the big fish my parents wanted me to reel in for them, left half of her estate to me when she died. I hadn't seen her in more than a decade, but in her will she said that I deserved the money for sparing her from being swindled and because I was brave enough to turn my parents in to the police." He makes a pained face. "Not sure she was right about that. I used most of the money to buy things for Henry and Imogen, but I also have investments which have paid significant dividends in the five years since I built the house."
"So you're still rich."
"Didn't Logan tell you how much I paid him for that job he did for me?"
"Of course not. Logan is discreet, which is why you hired him."
"That's true."
Henry waves his arms in the air to get our attention and shouts, "We found one!"
Alex goes off with his father to buy the car, leaving me with questions I want answered. Later, I'll ask him. Finally, after all these years, I'm getting to know him, all of him. And it makes me love him even more.
Chapter Thirty-One
Alex
I still can't believe I've introduced Catriona to my parents. What I can believe is that they've fallen in love with her right away and welcomed her like they've known her for years. Cat treats them the same way. I suppose that's a MacTaggart clan trait, treating strangers like family. Her relatives haven't made me feel as welcome as my parents have done with her, but I never expected they would. After the way I hurt Cat the first time we were together, I don't deserve to be greeted with open arms.
Serena and Keely always hug me, but they married into the MacTaggart clan. That's not the same as being in the Scots cult from birth.
Henry insists on driving the new car home, though both Imogen and I try to discourage him. The stubborn man won't concede. So my parents drive home in their vehicle while Cat and I ride in our hired car. Cat refuses to let me drive, though, claiming I must be exhausted. I'm not, but I've learned the futility of arguing with a determined MacTaggart woman.
Even Gavin Douglas, an ex-Marine who served in a war zone, doesn't argue too strenuously with his wife. Jamie is just as bloody-minded as Cat. The first time I'd met Jamie, she slapped me in the face—rather hard. Oh yes, she shares her sister's fiery temperament.
Cat and I cook lunch for my parents, and I discover I enjoy cooking with her. We trade stories about our families and make each other laugh, though I have nowhere near as many humorous stories as Cat does. Her brothers, sisters, and cousins are a gang of nutters. This means she makes me laugh a lot more than I make her laugh, but that's all right. I might have possibly, just a touch, missed times like this with her. We used to make each other laugh all the time. Feeling this way again, with her, makes me want to stay here at my parents' cozy little house forever.
But we can't. Her brothers get in the way, again.
We've just finished washing up the dishes when Cat's mobile phone rings. She manages to say hello, but then the person on the other end of the call starts speaking so loudly I can hear it, though I can't make out the words.
Cat rolls her eyes at whatever's been said. "Of course nobody's answering the door, Rory. We're not there."
Why would she say that? We're not there.
Oh no. I groan as I finally understand what's happening. Her brothers have turned up on my doorstep in Montana only to find out Cat and I aren't there. Rory and who-knows-who-else have descended on my home. Uninvited. Without notice.
"Don't you dare," Cat says. "I forbid you to have Logan break into the house. You can stay at a hotel, or better yet, go home to Scotland."
I have no doubt Logan would enjoy breaking into my home and snooping in every nook and cranny. He and Serena had made a halfhearted attempt at that the first time they visited me.
But Catriona looks ready to shove her fist through the phone and strangle her brother via the cell network. I doubt a virtual throttling will have any effect on him.
"Give me that," I say, snatching the phone from her. "Rory, how nice to hear from you."
"Where have ye taken my sister, ye bod ceann?"
"You're calling me a dickhead? Whatever happened to the MacTaggart charm? I thought you lot were more open-minded."
"Tell me where you are, or I'll have Emery trace this call."
I can't help chuckling. Cat's brothers are so easily vexed. "You dragged your wife to America? Are the twins there too? Maybe Logan will teach them how to pick the locks."
"My wife and bairns are at home. Now, where is my sister?"
"Standing right next to me. In my parents' house."
Rory stays silent for a few seconds, and he sounds genuinely baffled when he says, "You have parents?"
"Did you think I was created by the angels?" I give him a long-suffering sigh, but I suspect the sarcasm of it will fly right past him. "Cat and I are coming home right away. Your cousin Evan lent us his jet. So why don't you and your Scots mafia mates go into town for lunch and meet us back at the house in two hours."
"Aye, we'll do that. But if you don't produce Catriona in two hours—"
"Produce her?" I say with a laugh. "Sorry, that sounded like you think I can make her appear by magic. I'm afraid only Logan's sisters might pull that off."
"Be here in two hours. With Cat. Or else—"
"Yes, yes, I know. You will beat me bloody, tear me limb from limb, pummel me into the dirt, and whatever other clichés you can think of." I glance at Cat, whose eyes are large. I wink. "We'll see you in two hours. Cheers."
I end the call and hand the phone back to Cat.
"Cannae believe you did that," she says.
"Did you think I'd roll over and beg for a belly rub from Rory?"
"No, but—" She shuts her eyes for a moment, but then her lips slide into a faint smile. "You really are fearless, aren't you?"
"I think I've demonstrated that I'm not. Took me well over a decade to finally tell you the truth."
"But you told Logan and Serena nothing frightens you."
"Honestly, Cat, you have a disarming but dangerous need to believe everything I say." Leaning in, I spear her gaze with mine. "I lied. It's what liars like me do."
"You're not a liar. You…throw up a smoke screen with your words."
"It seems your memory is selective." I slant in even closer, lowering my voice to a near-whisper. "The day you walked into my office last week, you called me a slimy, conniving bastard and said you despise me. You declared you would never have sex with me, not even if an asteroid were heading straight for Earth, and that you would never crawl into the dank hole I live in."
"I was angry. You hurt me, Alex, badly. But that was a long time ago, and I've gotten over it."
"And yet you forgave me. One of us is a fool, but I can't decide if it's me or you."
She bumps her shoulder into my arm. "I like it when you're confused. It's sweet."
I give up on trying to convince her I'm a lying bastard. Not that long ago, she cursed my name and portrayed me as the devil incarnate. Now she refuses to believe I've done anything bad.
Cat smiles and laughs with more enthusiasm.
"What's so bloody entertaining?" I ask.
"I was imagining what will happen when my brothers see you."
"Well, if I get beaten to a pulp, it's your responsibility to tend to my wounds."
"I promise this time I'll be your physical therapist."
Of course she remembers when I asked if she'd be my physical therapist back at Dùndubhan, right after I'd dro
pped a caber on myself. At the time, Cat responded by saying, "You're still a bastard, and I still despise you." I can't decide whether to feel triumphant or terrified by the fact she now wants to take care of me after her brothers assault me like a pack of wolves taking down a moose.
"I'm not entirely fearless, you know," I tell her. "But your brothers don't frighten me."
"Someone does. Who is it?"
"What makes you think there's a specific someone?"
She lifts one shoulder. "You were terrified the other day when you tried to convince me to go away. It's Reginald Hewitt, isn't it? You're afraid of what he might do now that he's escaped from prison."
"No, I—" Am about to lie through my teeth, but not for underhanded reasons. It's a simple matter of pride, the kind that often gets men into trouble. "I was trying to protect you, but that's not in my skill set. I'm an expert pickpocket and grifter, but I have no fucking idea how to stop my former butler from coming after you to get to me."
"It's a good thing Logan is waiting for us at home, then. Isn't it?"
"Oh yes, I love that I need to ask your cousin for help." I shove my hands through my hair and groan, knowing I need to tell her I've heard from my best mate Reggie since the day I begged her to leave. "Reginald has texted me. Twice. First, he said 'you will pay.' The second time he told me 'we're coming for you.' I have no idea who else he's convinced to take part in his moronic revenge scheme, but I'm praying it's not Falk Mullane. The last thing I need right now is to see that whingeing little wanker again."
Cat lays her hands on my chest, leaning her body into mine. "Whatever they're planning, we will deal with it together."
I can't imagine why, but she means it. And that makes me feel better.
"Let's pack," I announce, "and say goodbye to my parents."
We can't leave her brothers waiting.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Catriona
I wait until we're on the jet and in the air before I decide to push Alex for more information. I still have questions he hasn't answered, not completely. So I start with the one I've wondered about for the longest. We're sitting on the sofa by the windows, snuggled up with his arm around my shoulders and my legs tucked under me.