Leith (Mountain Men 1)
“Of course I’m cursing up a storm!” he fumes. “What have you two done while I was gone?”
“Pish posh,” Nan says, waving her hand at him. “Burnt the biscuits is all.”
Her twinkling eyes meet mine, and she bursts into laughter. I can’t help but laugh myself. Though I’m silent, my belly tightens and my shoulders shake. We’ve made a right job of it.
Leith is not amused. He takes me by the shoulders and looks me over. “You’re alright, then?”
I nod.
Next he goes to Nan. “And you?”
“Aye, of course I am. Had the time of my life with this wee lass of yours.”
But he’s already in the house, making sure everything’s okay. I shiver in the cold, as the wind picks up, rustling my hair. I look to Nan, to make sure she’s okay. She shivers, but smiles at me.
“I imagine that bossy grandson of mine’ll drag you back up to his cave or whatever it is he has planned,” she says. “But in any event, I enjoyed our visit immensely, Cairstina. Come again?”
I nod eagerly, but it takes me a moment to realize why her words give me a painful little pang in my chest.
Does he bring all his women up to his “cave?” or wherever he’s going to take me? Has she seen this before?
And why do I wish I was the first?
Why do I care?
She squeezes my hand, as Leith comes out of the house. He’s frowning, with his hands on his hips, and the look makes my heartbeat quicken. And does the man ever smile or relax? Is he always cranky and irritable like this?
But the better question is, why does it excite me when he goes all stern?
“All sorted in there. No more baking unless you’ve got someone who can supervise and make sure you don’t burn the house down,” he says to her, wagging a finger in her direction.
She frowns at him. “It was a little accident, Leith, you need to relax.” She gives me a sidelong look and scowls. “Perhaps your lovely lady can help with that.”
“Excuse me?”
She plants her hands on her hips and fixes him with an angry stare. “You may boss your men around, but you don’t rule everyone under this roof, I’ll have you know.”
He glares right back, and it’s almost funny, because I can see the way the two of them resemble each other. Same dark brown hair, the same stern brow.
“Don’t I know it,” he mutters. “But you do know you’re only here in the chalet under my leave, Nan, and I won’t have you risking your safety. I’d much prefer you were at the main house with Mum and Dad.”
She rolls her eyes. “With all due respect to your father, it’s much better if that doesn’t happen. Take her home. Get laid, son, and maybe you’ll not have such a hair across yer arse.”
She turns on her heel, marches back inside, and slams the door behind her.
I’d laugh if I wasn’t terrified of his fury. The next second, I realize what she just said, and my cheeks flame with indignation.
Get laid?
Does she mean what I think she does?
He turns to me, and I take an involuntary step backward. I flinch when I realize I gave her my shoes.
“Where the fuck are the shoes I gave you?” he mutters, clearly even more angry than he was before.
I point to the house, then remember my mobile in my pocket. I send him a quick text.
Gave them to your nan when I pulled her out of the smoking kitchen.
I frown at him when he reads it. His scowl deepens.
“Get over here.” He reaches for me, and I freeze, remembering her admonition to “get laid,” but he’s only heaving me up into his arms so he can take me back to his home across the rocky ground.
It’s the second time he’s carried me, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it. No. I love it. There’s something deliciously protective in the way he cradles me to his strong, muscled chest. I feel the warmth of his arms around my back and under my legs, and I’m so close I can smell that clean, masculine scent I will forever associate with the mountains. And for one brief second, maybe two… I let my imagination roam.
I imagine I’m a damsel in distress, and my prince has come to rescue me. He’s carrying me out of the burning building, to take me home, so we can marry each other and live in a castle and live happily ever after. He’ll fight to the death for me, and I won’t ever have to worry about anyone hurting me again.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” he mutters, not even winded as he ascends the hill to the house.
I nod, and wish for a moment I could tell him everything. How much I enjoyed myself, how good she was to me, how I could sit and listen to her forever.