Mac (Mountain Men 2)

“Aye,” Islan says with a snort. “It’s not every mate that knows why a girl has to take a bodyguard to a club.”

“Or to a bloody wedding,” Paisley mutters. I sort of laugh-wince at that. Poor thing.

“Aye,” Fran says. “And I won’t go into details, but you know, we’ve talked. Bottom line, though.” Her eyes grow a little wistful, and her voice cynical when she says with a sigh, “Would a man that dedicated to family ever be capable of fully loving a woman?”

I blink in surprise, taken aback by the question.

My father wasn’t.

My brother doesn’t seem capable.

And Bram Cowen… well, I don’t know him, but I’d have questions there as well. My eyes go to Flora. She smiles, twisting a length of ribbon in her hand absentmindedly.

“Oh, now, I don't know about that, do I?” I expect her to explain that her husband does love her, that Fran’s wrong. Fran doesn’t back down but meets Flora’s eyes.

What Flora says next surprises me. “It seems that Leith’s learned to love, hasn’t he? You’ll never see a more devoted husband.”

She doesn’t say a word about her own.

“Aye,” Cairstina says, still flushed pink. She nods her head, and it looks as if it takes enormous courage for her to say what she says next. “It did take time. It wasn't something that came naturally to him, but if I'm honest it didn't come naturally to me either. We had to learn. We had to grow together.” She sits down on a tufted ottoman, as if physically exhausted from the exertion of speaking.

Nan’s eyes twinkle, as she nestles her teacup down and smiles at the girls. “Now, girls. An old lady might not know her way around a mobile, but if there’s anything she does know, it’s that anyone, and I do mean anyone, is capable of love. For some, it’s a bit harder. And sometimes… well, sometimes you have to love someone first before they can love you back.”

I think about this. I think about me and Mac. Who's right? Is Mac capable of love?

If it came down to a decision between me and his family, who would he choose?

His family, of course. He's only just met me. And it would be the right decision for him.

Wouldn’t it?

Islan snorts. “Now Fran, you’re pretending that we read the books because they’re realistic? Are you out of your mind?” She shakes her head. “Not at all. We read them because they’re bloody hot.”

“Course they are,” Nan says approvingly. “I may be an old lady, but I’m not dead.”

The girls laugh as they step into their dresses and we change the subject. But my mind still mulls the questions over.

Is Mac capable of love?

Am I?

Chapter 13

Mac

The day passes quickly, and yet not fast enough. I don’t want her to leave. I want her stay right here with me, and she ends up staying with me for several days in succession.

I’m surprised her father allows it, but he does, and I enjoy every fucking minute with her.

When I’m working, I want to get back to her. When I’m with my brothers or doing a job, I think of her.

She's in my mind, I can almost feel her. I can't think of anything with enough focus, unless I'm thinking of her.

She was terribly concerned about not having her mobile. It raises suspicions of my own. Is she hiding something from me?

Honestly, why would I think she wasn't? She's rival mafia. Doesn't much matter if she's hiding anything from me, I know what my purpose is.

But bloody hell, I can't do it now. I know I can't.

Does that make me less of a man? Or more of one?

We eat with my family and go back to my home. She calls her father, while sitting right in my lap, and tells him point-blank that she’s spending the night at the Cowen Clan home again. I expect him to lose his mind, or to get angry, but he doesn't.

Maybe I've misjudged Banner Aitkens.

There’s got to be another way to do what I’ve promised my family.

“Come here, lass,” I say, when she hangs up the phone. I’m hungry for her, dying to get my hands on her again. Craving a taste of her all fucking day.

She tosses the mobile to the end of the sofa and snuggles up to my chest.

“Now, where were we?” I ask, giving her a wink. “I think a certain little lassie made a promise this morning—”

Her eyes shine brightly, her cheeks faintly flushed.

“Aye,” she says, and she’s got the eager-to-please look again. She’s sliding off my lap to the floor, and I’m fucking hard already just knowing what’s coming next when my phone rings.

“Fuckin’ hell,” I growl, glaring at it. “They can wait.”

But Jaysus, God, it’s Leith’s ringtone.

She nods toward the phone. “It’s alright, Mac. I know you have to take it.”