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

The guy had gone to a lot of trouble and had clearly spent quite a bit of cash doing it. Keir almost felt bad for raining on his parade. “Did Mairi say she was going on a date with you tonight?”

“I sent her a text, but there has been no reply.” Amir looked down at his iPhone. “This is not like Mairi. She is very good at replying to every message in a most timely manner.”

Keir didn’t bother telling the guy that Mairi’s phone was now in the sea, probably on its way to Ireland. “She’s had a rough night. I don’t think she’ll want to go out this evening, but I’ll let her know you dropped by.”

Amir frowned. “This is my evening.” He gestured at the men behind him. “We drew straws. Not literally, we used a program for deciding the order of dates, but the principle is the same. I am to be the first.” He straightened his shoulders, which still didn’t get him past Keir’s jawline. “I have the carriage, the clothes and a basket with the most delicious of Indian food. I would have liked to bring some uniquely Pakistani food, but I have not yet learned how to cook. To be honest, there is very little difference between Indian and Pakistani cuisine. I am sure Mairi will enjoy this. I had it flown down from the best Indian restaurant in Glasgow. I am taking Mairi on a picnic.” He went pale and held up a hand. “Nowhere near the cliffs.”

“I don’t think she’s up to a night out,” Keir said. In fact, Sean had texted to tell Keir that Mairi had conked out on the sofa in the middle of watching Ellen.

Above him, a window opened, and a red head poked out. “What’s going on?” Mairi said. “Amir, don’t you look handsome?”

The Pakistani man blushed a deep red, and Keir was tempted to pat him on the head like a pet. He stopped short. When had he started thinking about his competition as pets? There was something seriously wrong with this whole situation.

“I am here to be taking you on our date. We each have an evening planned with you, and it is my honor to be the first.” Amir gave a courtly little bow.

“I told him you weren’t up for it,” Keir called up. “You fell off a cliff last night.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “That was last night. This is today. And if I’m not mistaken, that’s Indian food I smell.”

Keir didn’t have to see the drool rolling down her chin to know she was salivating. Indian food and Mairi were a match made in heaven.

“It would do me the greatest of honors if you would accompany me on a picnic, my beautiful Scottish flower,” Amir said.

&n

bsp; “In a buggy,” Mairi said with a grin. “I love it. I’ll be right down.”

“No.” Amir pointed at the bag he’d handed to Keir. “I brought you some traditional clothes from Pakistan.”

Mairi clapped her hands. “Is it a Punjabi suit?”

Amir laughed and nodded.

“I’ve always wanted one of those. Keir, stop hanging around and get up here.” She slammed the window shut.

Amir beamed at him. “I think I am in with a chance,” he said, making Keir want to pat him: very, very hard.

He turned his back on the guy, grabbed his holdall from inside the car, then headed through the garage and up the stairs to Mairi’s house.

She was waiting inside the door, her arms outstretched. She wiggled her fingers at him. “Gimme.”

He handed over Amir’s bag with a grunt of disgust. “What happened to you not encouraging these guys?”

“That was before Amir got me a Punjabi suit. I’ve been wanting one of these for ages.” She tipped the bag up and held up a blue tunic embroidered with pink flowers, pink pants and a long blue scarf with more pink flowers. “How cool is this? Be right back.” She ran into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her.

“I know you’re the eldest,” Sean said from the sofa where he was working his way through a box of chocolates. “And you’re supposed to know way more than me. But bro, seriously, you need to up your game. There’s a short guy out there stealing your girl with Indian takeaway and silk pajamas.” He shook his head in disgust.

Keir wasn’t sure if the disgust was aimed at him or the situation.

“I am upping my game. I brought supplies.”

Sean cocked an eyebrow at him, which made Keir wonder what he’d look like if they were shaved from his forehead. “What’d you bring?”

Keir rooted around in his bag and produced a large comb, conditioning spray and a six-pack of potato scones. His brother stared at the items in Keir’s hand, then stared at Keir. His mouth opened and closed several times.

“You have got to be joking,” Sean said at last.

“What? Mairi loves fried potato scone sandwiches. This is something none of the guys out there know. It’s inside information.”