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

She’d always known physical contact with Keir was going to be her downfall. That was why she’d been careful to avoid touching him these past couple of years. Touching Keir was her addiction. And after years of being clean, she’d fallen off the wagon with that one kiss they’d shared. Now all she could think about was getting more. She needed it, like a drug addict needed their next fix. She needed the high of touching him and knew that need would be her downfall, because no matter how hard she fought it, she felt herself weakening toward Keir.

As his hands swept through her hair, stroking her as though she were a cat, Mairi’s eyelids became too heavy to keep up. The movie played on, but it was nothing more than white noise as she closed her eyes and concentrated on Keir’s touch. Her head fell back to rest on the cushion between his legs as she gave up pretending to watch the movie.

“You falling asleep?” He sounded amused and indulgent, like he couldn’t care less if she did.

“No, relaxing. This is nice. Apart from my hairdresser, no one has brushed my hair for me since I was a kid.”

Even then, it had depended on her dad’s mood as to whether her mum had the time to brush it out or not. There was a reason none of the sisters saw their parents. Their dysfunctional marriage had been hell on them all. When her dad had eventually blown his top completely and kicked Isobel out of the house—pregnant and alone—it had been a watershed moment for the rest of the girls. They knew then that their allegiance wasn’t to their parents, but to each other. As each of them hit sixteen, the age they could legally leave home, they’d followed their sister, and together, the three of them had helped Isobel raise Jack. It had been years since Mairi had seen her parents. She had heard, from friends who’d bumped into them, her dad was more than happy to have his wife to himself. Now there was no one else to make demands on the time he believed was rightfully his.

“If you accept my proposal, I’ll do this for you every night.” Keir’s voice was like warm chocolate, soothing her after she’d strayed into the past.

“Sure you would. Because every guy wants to spend an hour a night brushing out his wife’s hair.” To be honest, his offer was more tempting than she’d ever let on.

“Okay, then how about I do it every time you think there’s something lurking in there?”

She laughed, and it pushed away the last of her maudlin thoughts. “That’s pretty much every night anyway.”

“You’re right. It’s too much of a sacrifice for the pleasure of being your husband. I guess you’ll just have to take on one of the guys outside.”

He was playing with her. She smiled at the thought. It had been such a long time since Keir had teased her, and she found she’d missed that too.

“Now, if I really was running that fake Facebook page, I’d have posted a list on there, of my requirements for a husband. And on that list would have been nightly hair brushing.”

“You have more than one requirement? This I’ve got to hear.” He was grinning. She could hear it.

“Okay, but consider yourself warned. No man could possibly match up to this list.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Well, apart from the hair brushing, I’d expect my husband to be an expert barista, who knew how to make the perfect coffee every time.”

“That’s me,” Keir said.

If Mairi had the energy to open her eyes, she definitely would have rolled them at him. “My husband would keep the fridge stocked with all my favorite foods,” she continued.

“I’ve already put a pack of potato scones in there.”

That opened her eyes. “You did?”

“Breakfast,” he said with a wink.

A strange warmth flooded through her, and Mairi closed her eyes again. It took a second to remember she was listing her husband requirements. “He would be willing to pick up and travel somewhere exciting at a moment’s notice.”

“I thought you didn’t want to travel anymore?”

“I lied.”

“Fine, well, I can do that too. In fact, I have a backpack in the boot of my car, all ready to go.”

She laughed, and it felt good.

“You want me to prove it?”

He took his hands from her hair, and she grasped his knees to stop him from getting up. “Don’t you dare stop combing my hair until you’ve done it all.”

He settled back down and carried on where he’d left off. Mairi settled back too, but her hands stayed on his knees; she was loath to break the contact and lose his warmth.

“What else?” he said, his voice a little husky.