Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
He lucked out with Cairstina. You could say the two of them met unexpectedly.
Leith snorts, rolls up the papers, then moves as if to smack me upside the head with them, but I duck his blow.
“Keep me posted, Mac.”
“Will do that. Suggestion on where to take her in town?”
Leith strokes his chin thoughtfully. “Aye, as a matter of fact I do….”
I’ve been text-flirting all afternoon, and I have to admit, I’ve bloody enjoyed myself. I pick up my mobile and send another text.
Mac: Do you like to sit with the crowd or secluded?
Bryn: Och, secluded, are you kidding me? Do people actually enjoy crowds?
Mac: Theoretically. I wouldn’t know.
Bryn: Secluded it is. I’d prefer that, I may be able to actually hear you speak instead of having to read your lips like I usually have to at a pub.
Mac: I’d like to read your lips, too.
In reply, she sends me a string of xxxxx’s.
It takes me a minute to realize they’re text-kisses.
"Do you know that you're smiling to yourself like a lovesick lunatic?"
I put my phone down and roll my eyes at William. "And all of a sudden you're the expert on facial expressions and how that quantitates to levels of love?"
He stands up, folding his laptop, and shakes his head from side to side. “She’s a bonnie lass, isn’t she?”
I sigh. “Fuckin’ gorgeous. She’s a stunner.” But I blow off his concern. “Won’t be hard to seduce a woman like her.”
“Who are we seducing?” Paisley comes in the room, grinning.
“Honest to God, do you girls have no compunction whatsoever about entering a private room?”
She turns and looks at the door, then snorts. “Seems you should’ve locked it then, hmm?”
I roll my eyes.
“Tell me, Mac. What’s the plan here?”
I take the folded papers and shove them in my right back pocket, shoving my mobile in my left. I feel another buzz coming in, and my heart lurches in my chest. Is it another text from Bryn?
Paisley giggles. “My God, Mac, just look at it already, see if she’s sending you provocative selfies, hmm?”
“Paisley,” I warn, shaking my head as I exit the room, but I won’t lie and say the idea doesn’t appeal. Immensely.
I head to the kitchen to make a cup of tea before I get ready for tonight, when I hear Mum's voice. I walk around the corner to find her, as she heads my way. She grins when she sees me and holds up the white paper bag in her hand. "Did you go all the way into Inverness just to get me my favorite?"
“Of course,” I tease. “Had nothing to do with an errand or a job I had in town.”
She smacks my arm teasingly. When I was a smaller lad, she’d ruffle her fingers through my hair, but because I’m so much taller now than she is, she can’t reach me. We share the same eyes and the same black hair, though hers is all silvery-gray and cropped short.
She’s got a pair of gardening gloves in her free hand.
“You gardening now?”
“Aye, Maeve said it’s good for the soul, so I said I’d give it a go.” Maeve, the McCarthy Clan matriarch, has become good friends with Mum, and visits from time to time.
“Thanks for these, Mac. What errand do you have in town?”
She knows I have plans with Aitkens’ daughter, if the girls said anything. I had no scruples about what my plans were when we first found out about Aitkens’ claim against my sister, but once I’m working on a job, it’s best as few people know about it as possible.
“Oh, things,” I say, evasively enough that she knows it’s best I don’t get into details. She nods quietly, then changes the subject.
“Have you seen your father lately?”
I nod. “Aye, saw him at breakfast. Why?”
She frowns and shakes her head. “Oh, it’s nothing. He just seems… off lately.”
He always seems “off.” It doesn’t take much. The older he gets, the more cantankerous he becomes. He wants his tea just right, his toast just so. He wants everyone to respond to him immediately, and if things don't go his way, he almost has a tantrum. I don't tell her I’ve noticed this. It must be hard to be the wife of Bram Cowen.
"How so?" I ask.
"I don't know," she says, worrying her lip. "He just seems detached. Not even angry, which I've gotten used to. More like he’s… brooding."
Again, he’s always brooding, so this is nothing new. Still, she’s my mum, and I make it a point to ease her worry. She’s put up with more from him than any of us have.
“I’ll keep an eye on him. Don’t you worry, alright?”
She smiles. “Thanks, Mac. I tried to talk to Leith, and he says everything’s fine, Dad’s just having a hard time letting go of control, and I’m sure that’s part of it. Tate says the same, that he doesn’t like aging and allowing others to lead where he once did. But I’ve been married to him for over thirty-five years, and I think it’s more than that.”