KiltTease (14 page)

Douglass pushed her toward the door and then out. By the time she had enough of her wits to reply, he’d slammed the door behind her.

His abrupt reaction didn’t make sense until she glanced down the steps. Her heart jumped into her throat. Quinton. He leaned against his car, sunglasses covering his eyes, but his head tilted up toward her. His shoulders rose as though he was surprised to see her.

She clutched the box to her chest, turned around, and pounded on the door. Douglass—and now she could kind of understand why everyone called him the Baird—answered, his brows up.

In that short space of time he’d put on a jacket, gloves, and a hat. “Aye, lassie?”

“You called him.” Her voice was low and filled with the anger stabbing at her insides. This didn’t feel like betrayal. Kate just didn’t have a brave face yet. Quinton, if he bothered to look, could see she still cared. And how dare Douglass force her to do this?

“Oh,” he said, feigning surprise, “Quinton’s here? Good. I need a ride to MacDougal castle. The owner, Logan, has finally made it back from London, and I need a word or two with him. I forgot to mention it earlier.”

He was so full of shit. That’s why he’d pestered her with questions. Hell, it’s why he let the subject drop. “Nurses don’t have to take a Hippocratic oath. I can harm you.”

“But you won’t because you did take the Nightingale Pledge.” He plucked the beadazzled box out of her hands.

He was right. It’s partly why she didn’t kick him square in the ass as he descended the stairs. With
her
grandmother. Unless she planned to wrestle him to the ground and take her grams back through force, Kate would have to get into the car with Quinton. The round trip would be three hours. She bit her lip, because she could take Douglass. Kate could even walk to her B and B in a show of rebellion…but she didn’t want to go alone, not really. And her grams would totally approve of Douglass’s bullheaded tactics.

She stuffed her hands into her jacket and followed his lead. Quinton held the passenger side door open for his uncle. The older man waved him off and climbed into the back. Quinton’s jaw clenched, but he kept it open for her. He wasn’t going to break the silence. He’d ended them over an honest mistake. He’d walked away like she was an afterthought.

So, yeah, screw breaking the silence. She’d stew in it for the next hour and a half and start Cold War 2.0. First, she turned in the seat to glare at Douglass. “Give me my grandmother.”

Instead of doing that, Douglass asked Quinton, “Is her door locked?”

His nephew glanced into the rearview mirror at him. A chill filled the car in those few seconds of silence. “I’ve turned on the child lock on your door. Clearly you’re a toddler who just wants to get his way.”

“Auch. I feel chastened. Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” they both said and then looked at each other.

The shades blocked his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the curve of his lips. No. She didn’t soften. He was an asshole, and it proved her doubts right—she didn’t know him. The Quinton who had held her close when she’d told him about her promise would have never walked away. That man who had made her heart skitter with a look—he didn’t exist. Good thing he’d showed his true colors because she’d…almost handed her heart right over to an asshole who would leave her at a wedding he’d invited her to.

Almost?

If that was the kind of personal monologue she had to look forward to, this was going to be the longest car ride of her life. She faced forward and locked her seatbelt into place, forcing her inner thoughts to shut the hell up.

*****

Quinton gripped the steering wheel before pulling out into traffic. Kate’s scent filled the car, reminding him of what he’d been missing since he’d left her at his brother’s wedding. Her laugh, her meddling—her. Aye, he was a dobber, but she had…done nothing that warranted him to leave her like that.

His uncle shifted in the backseat, probably gearing up for something else underhanded. The bugger had phoned to ask for a ride to the MacDougal castle. Douglass had made sure to leave out the important fact that Kate was going with them.

Because the Baird was a Level: Boss Meddler, the fucker asked, “How’s the new jewelry store?”

He sighed, stealing another look at his uncle. “How do you even know about that?”

“I read the newspaper.”

“It’s fine,” he said, bearing down his teeth to keep from cursing.

It was. Things were going swimmingly as more opportunities rolled in. Everyone wanted to know more about Kate. Instead of making the connection with his uncle, they readily assumed she took care of Quinton. His retirement made sense now. He was injured and had needed someone to nurse him back to health, and how romantic, he’d fallen for
his
nurse.

All those months he’d imagined people finding out or even catching onto his secret would be the worst thing to ever happen to him. No. Having a constant reminder of Kate shoved in his face had been much more gut-wrenching. He’d hurt her, and for what?

Needless to say, cameras on mobiles were the fucking devil’s work, and he couldn’t deny what he saw in every single picture someone had snapped of them. Quinton looked at her with reverence in every single stolen shot of them together, and he’d walked away from her as though she were a mistake that needed to be shoved under a rug.

Now he couldn’t look her in the eye from the shame of it. Didn’t dare to utter a plea for forgiveness. Quinton didn’t deserve one.

Kate turned slightly in the seat. “Douglass, my grandmother, please.”

His knuckles turned white at the tremor of vulnerability in her voice. The obvious finally hit him between the eyes. He glanced over at her. “Why are we going to the castle?”

She pulled the box to her chest after Douglass finally handed it over. He muttered a curse and met his uncle’s gaze in the mirror. Whatever annoyance or shame he had dissipated. “You’re saying good-bye,” Quinton murmured.

“I don’t even think I’m ready to, but your uncle…” Kate didn’t finish the sentence, because she had started to choke back tears. His stomach twisted at the quiet sound.

Quinton pulled over and then cut the engine. He turned to her, not daring to look away. “If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to. My uncle is a manky bastard who thinks he knows what’s best for everyone else.”

“No, he’s probably right.” She came readily to the man’s defense. “Just go. I’ll go. If we get there and I can’t…”

He gripped the steering wheel harder to keep from cupping her face. “If you need me to be there for you, to hold your hand, I will. I promise. I won’t leave you.”

Tears filled her eyes at his promise. “Quinton, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure, lass?”

She nodded, finally looking directly at him as a tear fell. Their gazes held. He’d faced down men twice his size. He’d played with blood dripping down his face that had no sign of stopping. None of that had ever scared him. But Kate had with her softness, her heart just there for him to hold. She had only wanted honesty in exchange. She’d made him feel safe for the first time since his mother died…and he’d fucked it up.

“Kate—”

“Just in case, you should probably put the child lock on my door too.”

Aye. She’d pulled out her sarcasm like a shield. Quinton nodded and then punched the button. “I’m not leaving you alone again.”

She hugged the box harder and turned her gaze to the window. He deserved that. “Aye, right.”

The rest of the car ride was silent and no less tense. Strangely, Quinton had to admit, there was nowhere else he’d rather be, and no one else he’d rather be with.

CHAPTER TEN

Kate sat at the edge of the cliff so long her ass and nose had gone numb from the cold. Didn’t help that every time she opened her mouth to speak a soft cry fell out. Saying good-bye for the last time was harder than she imagined.

The quiet presence behind her didn’t help any. Kind of hard to have an emotional breakdown with an audience. But Quinton had followed her even when she tried to send him into the castle with Douglass. She figured ignoring him for a very long time would get rid of him. It hadn’t.

I’m not leaving you alone again
. Apparently he really meant it, so she would just have to have an audience. Kate sucked in the sharp, cold air and tried again. He moved closer as though he knew this was it. The hairs along her neck rose. The heat of him seemed to warm her. Relief slipped into her heart and held tight, because she wouldn’t be alone. Hadn’t been.

She tucked the beadazzled box to her chest.
I miss you. I wish you were here. God, why did you leave me? You were my home.
None of that Kate could say out loud yet.

Sighing, she broke the silence between Quinton and herself instead. “Sometimes football players take ballet lessons to be light on their feet. Did you?” she asked without turning around.

“I was threatened with it, so I picked up a jump rope instead.”

“Ah.” A few seconds passed, and then she said, “Standing behind me for close to an hour is creepy as hell.”

“Probably closer to forty-five minutes,” he corrected, paused. “I wanted to see the cliffs.”

So he was taking a page out of his uncle’s full-of-shit playbook. She wanted to smile, but the knot in her stomach refused to budge. And the other words refused to fall out. “You might as well take a seat.”

He settled in beside her. His brow furrowed as he inspected her face, and she let him see the grief. Even if she wanted, Kate couldn’t hide how she felt.

Quinton nodded as though they had come to some understanding in that quiet moment. “What’s your grandmother’s full name?”

Maybe they had, because the knot in her stomach loosened. This is what she’d needed, a first step in saying good-bye. Something simple. “Katherine Esther Blair.”

He lifted his hand like he planned to touch her but then dropped it back down to his side. “Still a Scottish surname.”

She stared at the sea. It didn’t seem to settle, but constantly raged at the shore. The dark gray waters crashed against the rocks. That was why she’d picked the spot. The view was stark, beautiful but calming. “If I was taking too long, you should have left.”

“You weren’t, lass,” his tone softened.

She turned to study him, having heard a hesitation.
Don’t read too much into it
, she tried to tell herself, but his concern was written all over his face. The emotion thinned his mouth and pulled his brows into a furrow.

He had the look of a man trying to come up with a solution. Suddenly, his eyes lit with a laugh. “I lied. I don’t give a shite about the view. I followed you, I stayed with you because I wanted to pay my respects. I mean, I almost had a threesome with Katherine Esther Blair. It’s the least I could do.”

She gasped at the attempt in humor and then snorted out a laugh. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

His expression remained serious, but the laugh was right there in his gaze. “I get the sense your grams would have laughed at the joke.”

It felt like someone had stuffed cotton into her chest as she nodded. There wasn’t a time clock on grief, but why didn’t it hurt less to talk about her, to remember her grams?

She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “She would have said, ‘Kitten, there’s nothing more dull than a person who can’t laugh at inappropriate jokes.’ If there was one to be made, she was the first to utter it.” She talked through the fist squeezing around her heart. “The only reason we learned French after Spanish is because she had a crush on our tutor and he taught both. She didn’t care he was thirty years younger than her and that she was dying.”

“I love my parents, I do, but my grams…she was my heart.” She clutched the box, needing something to hold onto as the next wave of grief hit her. Her nose and face went hot. Oh, she was going to cry, and it was probably going to be the ugly cry. “And this is all that I have left of her.”

“Auch.” Quinton tugged on her arm and pulled her into him.

“I miss her so damn much.”

“I know.” He rested his chin on her head. “I know.”

She didn’t want to cry on his chest. Definitely didn’t want to feel comfort as he tightened his embrace. The tears forced their way out anyway and stained his dark shirt as he held her.

He ran a hand down her back in a soothing manner and murmured, “Kate, you took a chance and went on an adventure. She left you that part of her spirit. You know two foreign languages. You are the bravest, kindest woman I’ve ever known, and I think that is in no small part because of your grandmother.”

He smelled of laundry soap and leather, and it comforted her despite wanting to despise him. “You didn’t even know her.” She hiccupped and then held her breath to make it stop. She had to or she’d be more of a mess.

“But I’ve gotten to know you, and that’s more than enough.”

Kate tore herself away from him. The more he talked, the more her heart softened toward him again. She pressed her fingers into her eyes and breathed again until she felt in control. “Why do you care?” Her voice shook, but it was with anger this time. “You ended…our whatever the hell we were.”

He cupped her cheek and tilted her face up so he could hold her gaze. “Because my brother told me to take care, and I didn’t. I’m a selfish arse who was worried about what you could do to me instead of the other way around. I was worried about the way I had started to feel for you. So I ended us. I’m a shite for that.”

“You are,” she said, refusing to let go of the hurt, and mad.

He laughed, not offended at all. “I’m here because I couldn’t hide or lie to you. I hurt you because you managed do that without trying.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I don’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else. I want to take care of you, and right now that means making sure you’re not alone as you say good-bye to the most important person in your life.” He sighed. “If all I could do was stand here with you while you cried, I was going to do just that.”

The lump in her throat was back. “I don’t believe you.”

His brows furrowed as he inspected her face. “Aye, you do. But you’re pissed at me, as you should be.”