Mairi had no choice but to take the flowers Agnes handed her. “Where did you get these?” she said, as she backed into the flat under the weight of the bouquets.
“These are some of the flowers your men have had delivered to you,” Agnes grumbled, following her. “They were left downstairs in the garage.”
“Why didn’t you get Keir to bring them up?”
“She did,” Keir snapped, as he followed Agnes up the stairs, his arms full of yet more flowers.
With matching frowns, Agnes and Keir put the displays on the floor, as their tiny table was already filled with the ones Mairi had set down.
“Have you been hiding in here all day?” Agnes gave her a disapproving look.
“Not hiding, no. Assessing the situation and formulating a response.” Mairi grinned. That sounded damn good. But from Agnes’ frown, she wasn’t impressed.
Mairi surveyed the blooms as the room filled with their perfume. She’d never seen so many flower arrangements, outside of the church fair.
“That’s a lot of flowers,” she said.
“There’s more downstairs.” Keir folded his arms, making his muscles bulge.
It was hard to stop her eyes from straying to his arms. Part of her wanted to grip those muscles tight, while her tongue traced the Celtic knot tattoo that trailed over his shoulder and disappeared under his shirt. She’d seen him without his shirt. She knew that tattoo went across his pec and down to abs that would make any grown woman drool.
She felt her cheeks flush at the thought of touching a shirtless Keir. Then she saw his knowing look and forced a glare. She might enjoy looking, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to touch. Never again. His cocked eyebrow said otherwise. It, along with the smug little smile playing around his full, biteable lips, was a challenge. One she wasn’t going to take.
She pointed at him. “You can leave now.”
And, of course, he ignored her. “According to one of your men, you told them all that they should send flowers to a woman they’re interested in. Apparently, it was only one piece of the advice you gave them on how to romance a woman.”
Oh, that’s not good. Mairi’s mind rushed over all the things she’d told the boys under the guise of ‘sage dating advice from a real woman.’ She felt the color drain from her face. Yeah, there were some things she maybe shouldn’t have told them.
“What did you do?” Agnes did that toe-tapping thing again.
“Nothing to worry about.” Mairi mentally crossed her fingers and thought of the most likely reason for the flowers. “I saw an article in Cosmo that I thought the boys would find helpful, and I passed it on to them.”
“Which article, exactly?” Agnes’ toe was tapping faster now.
“It’s no big deal. It was called ‘Top Ten Romantic Gestures for Men.’ See? Flowers are one of the gestures. That’s it.” Move along. Nothing to see here.
It was clear they weren’t buying it.
Keir considered the flowers. “What were the other nine?”
Mairi chewed at her bottom lip while she thought about it. “Scented candles, chocolates, love notes, chivalrous gestures, meaningful songs, intimate dinners for two, foot rubs and grand gestures...” She trailed off, hoping they didn’t realize that she’d only listed nine in total.
“Okay.” Agnes put her hands on her hips. “A few extra meals and some scented candles are okay. We can live with those. I’m a bit worried about the grand gestures, but honestly, how creative can a bunch of geeks get?”
“Not so fast,” Keir said. “That was only nine. What’s the last one?”
Mairi glared at him. He was not helping. “Why are you still here, anyway? Remember the rule? No entering our flat without an invitation.”
“I invited him,” her traitor sister said, “now spit out number ten.”
There was no avoiding Agnes’ determined glare. Mairi could feel her cheeks beginning to heat again, so she muttered the words, before turning back to the flowers. “Aren’t they gorgeous?” she said loudly.
“I didn’t catch that,” Agnes said. “Don’t make me sit on you until you tell us properly.”
“Fine!” Mairi threw herself back onto the sofa and folded her arms. “Number ten was ‘the gift that keeps on giving.’”
“And that is?” Agnes said through gritted teeth, which was a sure sign that violence was about to occur.