Can't Tie Me Down! (Sinclair Sisters 1)

“Last one,” Gladys said with a smile.

“We need to have a party,” Mairi said. “A no-more-chemo party.”

“With those fancy drinks that have umbrellas in them.”

“And cake,” Reggie said.

“And pies.” Albert nodded.

“I’ll arrange it.” Mairi patted Gladys’ hand. “We’ll do it in a couple of weeks when you feel better.”

Gladys’ skin was paper thin, and you could see every vein running under it. For a second, Mairi’s throat tightened. She’d started volunteering at the old folks’ home because working from home had made her feel lonely, and she’d looked around to see where she could find company. An old folks’ home had seemed like a good place to find a captive audience for her sense of humor, and willing partners in any mischief she could come up with; so she’d walked into the home one day and informed them she was their new entertainment director. No one had kicked her out, and two years later, she was still hanging out at the home. The residents had become like family to her. She wasn’t sure how she would cope if anything happened to Gladys. Not after losing her sister Isobel to a crazy Scotsman who lived in London. She didn’t even have the routine of sending messages to her men all day long to distract her, because some demented hacker was out to get her. Mairi’s life was imploding, and Gladys looking weak was one more reminder that things were out of control.

“I’ll be fine.” Gladys put her hand over Mairi’s and squeezed it gently. “You’ve got a soft heart, lassie. The doctor says the cancer is going away. All that will happen today is what usually happens—I’ll feel tired, nauseated and downright grumpy.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Albert said. “We’ll look after you.”

“I know you will. See, I’m fine here. You’re a good girl, Mairi. You deserve every happiness, but you’re far too hard on yourself.” Gladys cast a glance over to where Keir was talking to the nurse. “One night is such a short amount of time in a lifetime full of nights. Do you really want one bad day to define the rest of your life? I see how you look at each other. Nobody will think badly of you if you give the rascal another chance.”

Mairi looked at Keir and felt that same bubbling in the bottom of her stomach she’d felt the moment she’d first laid eyes on him. She remembered it distinctly. She’d been in Campbeltown, going

door to door along the high street looking for a job. Fed up, tired and seriously lacking in caffeine, she’d heard the roar of a motorbike as it pulled up outside the tattoo parlor. She’d watched in stunned awe as Keir parked the bike and climbed off. Her mouth had watered at the sight of him. Even back then he was muscled and inked. There had been a two-day growth of beard covering his jaw, and his chocolate colored hair was mussed from his helmet.

He hadn’t noticed Mairi as she stood there gawking at him. She wasn’t sure he’d seen anyone. But they saw him. The crowd had parted in front of him, allowing him a clear passage into the tattoo parlor. Mairi had watched him glide through the crowd, distinct from everyone around him. It was as though he was something else entirely. Something different and unique. Something other. Everyone around him seemed to scurry like squirrels, but he moved like a panther. Everything within her was drawn to him, and she knew, deep inside, that she’d found the man she was supposed to find. The one meant just for her.

So, she’d abandoned her job hunt, climbed onto the back of his bike and waited for him to return. It didn’t take long, as she suspected that someone inside the tattoo parlor told him there was a crazy woman sitting on his bike.

He’d prowled out, his coffee colored eyes heating with every step he took toward her. When he came to a stop in front of her, he’d brushed her hair from her face, sending electric pulses through her body, and then he’d given her a slow, wicked smile.

“Where are we going, Rusty?” he’d said.

“Wherever you want to take me,” she’d answered.

He looked over his shoulder and called toward the people who’d crowded in the shop door to watch them, their faces a mixture of awe and amusement. “Got a spare helmet, Stew?”

A few seconds later, one came flying and Keir snatched it out of the air. He’d put it on Mairi’s head and strapped it up slowly, all the while staring into her eyes.

“Budge up,” he’d said, and climbed on in front of her. He’d grabbed her hand and tugged up her against his back. “Hold on tight, Rusty. I’m going to take you for the ride of your life.”

Mairi had done exactly what he said, feeling his strength and heat against her as she pressed into him. The world had faded away as the bike roared to life. Not once did Mairi look back. She knew, without a doubt, that she was where she was meant to be. She was with him.

A fragile hand tightened on hers, bringing her back to the present. She blinked away the memories to look into Gladys’ understanding eyes.

“I know I should tell you not to let bitterness ruin your life, my girl,” Gladys said, “that storing up regrets is harmful to the soul, and maybe you should give the boy a chance to prove he’s grown up some since the last time. But I’m going to tell you this instead—take him to bed and have some fun. Worry about the big stuff later.”

“Gladys!” Mairi said. “That’s terrible advice.”

“I know.” Gladys smiled. “But look at those muscles. If I were thirty years younger, I’d arm-wrestle you for him.”

“And we’d beat him to a pulp,” Albert said as he glared over at Keir.

“Don’t I know it.” Gladys winked at Mairi. “Now go away. Have lunch with your boy there while I spend some time with mine.”

“I’ll go have lunch, because I’m hungry, but he isn’t my boy, Gladys,” Mairi said. “He blew that chance years ago.”

“Just make sure you aren’t cutting off your nose to spite your face, lassie.”

“Yeah, right. I’m going to take relationship advice from a woman who can’t decide between two men.”