Gift-Wrapped in a Kilt Read online

  She lifted her head, and her eyes widened. She'd stopped right in front of Rory's office. Not that she planned to walk in there looking like a pathetic mess, like a pathetic lass who'd lost her boyfriend because he was, apparently, the biggest idiot on the face of the earth.

  Eighteen months. She'd wasted all that time with Gavin, and for what?

  A credit card.

  She leaned against the building, out of sight of the sole window on the front of Rory's office. Jamie stayed there, breathing deeply and slowly, until her tears dried and she'd blown her nose five times. Halloween decorations festooned the window on the inside — fake cobwebs, hairy spiders with big eyes, a witch on a broomstick suspended from the window's top edge. Rory hadn't cared for holidays in years, not since before his first wife. Emery, his fourth wife, had transformed him into an aficionado.

  Jamie smoothed her blouse and her hair, squared her shoulders, and forced a smile. Jamie MacTaggart forcing a smile. No one would believe it. She was the one who smiled no matter what, who kept a positive outlook no matter what, and here she was faking it.

  A credit card, Gavin?

  Her heart hurt recalling the incident.

  She marched into Rory's office.

  The reception desk in the small outer office stood empty, as always, though a figurine of a ghost occupied the desktop. Why Rory had a reception desk but no receptionist, no one knew. Emery probably knew the answer. She knew everything about her husband, even the things he wouldn't tell anyone else. Through the open door to the inner office, Jamie spied Rory hunched over his desk studying papers. Little pumpkins with silly faces painted on them were stationed at all four corners of the desk.

  When she tromped inside and flopped into the wooden chair across from him, Rory peered at her over the tops of his reading glasses.

  "What are you doing here?" he asked.

  "Not sure." Jamie slouched in the chair.

  Rory took off his glasses and plunked them down on the desk. "Where's Gavin?"

  She shrugged.

  "How was lunch?"

  She shrugged again.

  He frowned. "What's the bod ceann done?"

  Jamie shot upright in her chair, hands on the arms. "Don't call him a dickhead, Rory."

  Even if Gavin had acted like one, she wouldn't have her brother insulting her boyfriend. That was her job.

  The brother in question drummed his fingers on the desktop, his lips pursed. "He's hurt you again, I can see it. Jamie, you have no talent for hiding your feelings. Tell me what the b — what Gavin has done, so I can batter him with a caber."

  "Would that be the one Emery pulled out of your erse a few months ago?" Jamie couldn't help brightening at the chance to tease Rory. He'd been so serious and sad for such a long time, and it turned out all he'd needed was a good, strong woman to love him with all her heart and soul. Love changed people, but the effect had been lost on Gavin. The thought of him made her a little queasy, so she focused on tormenting her brother. "Do you still have wood splinters in there?"

  Rory's mouth twisted as he tried not to smile, or maybe scowl, at her. "Cabers are for tossing, you cheeky bairn. Now tell me what Gavin did."

  Some people might've found Rory intimidating — the big, braw solicitor who brooked no nonsense from anyone except for his wife, who loved silliness. Jamie had always adored Rory, though, because he'd always looked out for her. The baby of the family had needed protecting, according to her brothers. Lachlan, as the oldest child, had been the referee between all his siblings. Aidan, the youngest brother and second-youngest sibling, had been her best friend and playmate. Rory, the serious one, had served as her guardian. One stern look from him and any laddie who tried to make time with her fled in terror.

  "Tell me," Rory insisted gently.

  "He —" Ugh. How could she talk to Rory about this? She rubbed her palms on her thighs and bit her lip. "Um, where's Emery? I'd rather talk to her."

  Rory sank back in his chair, sighing. "Naturally. Everyone talks to my wife."

  "She listens without growling or scowling, that's why."

  "Hmm." He picked up a pen, twirling it around his fingers. "Emery drove to Ballachulish to help Calli with her office computer." Rory glanced at the clock on the wall. "She's probably done by now and on her way home."

  "I'll meet her there."

  Jamie rose, and so did Rory. She raised her brows.

  He grabbed his keys off the desk. "I'm driving you."

  "But my car —"

  "I'll ring Aidan and ask him to pick it up." Rory strode around the desk, gesturing for her to exit the room. "You're upset. I'm driving, no arguments."

  Resigned to the fact no one argued with Rory successfully, no one except his wife, Jamie followed him out of the office and to his Mercedes S-Class parked along the curb. Much more posh than her old car, for sure.

  Her brother stood by the passenger door until she'd climbed in and buckled her seatbelt.

  As they drove down the streets of Loch Fairbairn, they passed the cafe.

  Jamie tried not to, but her eyes insisted on searching for Gavin there. The table where they'd eaten lunch was empty. Gavin was nowhere in sight, and neither was the pickup truck he'd arrived in, the one he'd borrowed from Calli.

  He hadn't come after her.

  What had she expected? The man was an ex-Marine. He wouldn't rush after her to beg forgiveness and plead with her to marry him. Not the manly thing to do. Maybe he didn't want that, anyway. She no longer had any idea what he did want from her — or what she wanted from him.

  Another man had made a fool of her. Would she never learn?

  Jamie slumped into her seat, her head against the window, and watched the miles speed by in a blur.

  Chapter Four

  Gavin fidgeted in the metal folding chair, glancing around the trailer that served as the offices of MacTaggart Construction. His sister, Calli, and her husband, Aidan, owned the company together. Aidan had made her a full partner after they got married. This morning, Calli studied him from across the metal desk, her arms resting on its fake-wood surface. The sallow light from a desk lamp darkened her flame-red hair and emerald-green eyes.

  "Are you planning to answer my question?" Calli said. "Sometime this century, I mean."

  "Maybe." Gavin scratched his head. "What was the question?"

  Calli gave him a long-suffering look. "Why did you give Jamie a credit card she doesn't need or want instead of asking her to marry you?"

  "Oh. That. Yeah." He had no frigging idea how to answer, because he had no clue why'd he'd done it. He'd meant to pull out the ring box, drop to one knee, and pop the question he'd wanted to ask for a year. Longer than a year. Almost since the day they'd met. Acid roiled in his gut at the memory of the heartbroken look on Jamie's face when he'd offered her the credit card. God, he was such a stupid, stupid jerk.

  And he had no idea how to fix this. So naturally, he was asking his baby sister for help. With a mental groan, he rubbed his forehead.

  "Don't groan at me," Calli said.

  Okay, more than a mental groan. Damn, he couldn't control his guttural noises any more than his dumb-ass mouth.

  "Tell me the truth, Gav. Do you love Jamie?"

  He made a probably rude face at his sister. "Come on, C. Would I be so messed up if I didn't?"

  Calli drummed her fingertips on the desk. "Is this about Leanne or Afghanistan? Or both?"

  "Neither, not really."

  "You're lying." Calli waved a finger toward his head. "Your ears are turning red, which always means you're feeding me a whopper."

  Gavin wiped at his ears like he could make them stop screaming liar liar with their flaming-red skin. "Kid sisters are supposed to look up to their brothers, not treat them like babies."

  She leaned back, hands clasped over her belly. "If you'd stop acting like a schizo infant, maybe I'd stop treating you that way. I love you, Gavin, but you're screwing up your life and I
can't figure out why."

  He coughed and rapped a knuckle on his thigh in a rapid-fire beat. "I — I don't know why this happened."

  Calli scrutinized him with narrowed eyes, her focus so intense a tiny shiver raced down his spine. Sometimes, he felt like she could read his mind, like they were twins with a freaky connection. She was eight years younger, though. Unless their parents bought twin embryos and saved one for later, he and Calli didn't have telepathic mojo.

  "I'm going to ask you a question," she said, "and I want you to say the first thing that pops into your head. No thinking, no balking, just say it. Okay?"

  This sounded like such a bad idea, but he didn't have much to lose. He'd already lost the woman he loved.

  "Yeah, sure," he said. "Whatever."

  Calli puckered her lips, canting her head. "What are you afraid of?"

  "That Jamie will get sick of me and leave." He dropped his head into his hands, groaning again, sickened by the realization. "She already did that, though. I made her do it."

  "I believe that's called a self-fulfilling prophecy."

  With his head in his hands and all, he didn't see her come around the desk to kneel in front of him. When her hands settled on his knees, he peeked through his fingers at her. The empathy in her expression chafed his heart. Calli didn't feel sorry for him. She didn't do pity. No, she understood his feelings better than he did.

  Great. Some tough guy he was.

  "I get it," Calli said, her voice as compassionate as her expression. "I was afraid too when I met Aidan. Remember? You told me, and I quote, 'love isn't rational, you've got to take a chance'. You also told me you were over your divorce, but that's not true, is it? I'm sure you thought you'd gotten past it, until you fell in love again." She tapped a finger on his forehead. "Love isn't rational, and you have to take a risk for it."

  "Not fair to use my own words against me." He lowered his hands but kept his eyes downcast, unable to stomach meeting her gaze. "Besides, you're a girl. Things are different for guys."

  "Uh-huh," she said. "It's different because men are so totally not self-aware. Emery says women think about their issues and work through them, but the only issues men dig into are their monthly subscriptions to Playboy magazine."

  Gavin opened his mouth to spout a sarcastic retort but stopped. Calli was the smartest person he knew. Well, tied with Jamie.

  A pain throbbed behind his ribs. He rubbed the heel of his hand on his chest, but it didn't alleviate the pain. Jamie. Her name was all it took to make him sick.

  "Jamie deserves better than me." He blurted it out before his brain analyzed the statement. Maybe Calli and Emery were right about men and their non-self-awareness. He let his shoulders cave in and his chin drop toward his chest. "I lost my job."

  "Oh Gavin, I'm so sorry. What happened?"

  He hiked up one shoulder. "Downsizing. Plus, I've been kinda distracted with weekend trips to Scotland. More than enough reason for me to be first in line for the pink slip. On top of that, I spent most of my money on overseas phone calls to Jamie, presents for her, fancy dinners when we saw each other, anything I could think of to keep her happy. Not that it worked out that way."

  "The tension with Jamie," Calli said. "It's been building for a while."

  "Would you stop being so damn insightful? Jeez, C, let me think for myself."

  Calli sat back on her haunches, arms crossed over her chest. "Then start thinking."

  He rubbed his jaw because it ached like somebody had slugged him. "How can I marry Jamie when I don't have a job? No prospects, running out of money. She deserves a guy who can take care of her."

  "Stop being so medieval." Calli stood, and his baby sister loomed over him in a way that made him feel weirdly small. "Jamie has a job working for me and Aidan. She can support both of you until you find a new job. Besides, all the MacTaggart men have offered to help you find employment in Scotland." She rocked forward, looming over him even more, her expression fiercer than he'd ever seen her. "You keep turning them down."

  And here it came again. The brothers. Rory had semi-retired from practicing law, taking on only cases that interested him and mostly for free. Emery, Rory's wife, provided computer troubleshooting services to anyone who needed it, often at no charge. Lachlan had sold his financial consulting business because he no longer needed the money, and these days he and Erica operated a small farm. They donated fresh produce to the local schools and sold it to everybody else for whatever they wanted to pay. Aidan wasn't rich like his brothers, but he did pretty well as far as Gavin could see.

  Everybody did better than Gavin was doing lately. Accepting help from Jamie's brothers — her rich, successful brothers — would make him feel like a stray dog they took in out of pity.

  He wanted to get up, but Calli blocked him. Instead, he straightened in the chair and frowned up at her. "Exactly what I need, your Scottish husband and his brothers making me their charity case."

  "It's not charity. You are family, and we MacTaggarts help our family."

  A wave of cold sluiced through him. She'd called herself a MacTaggart. That made Gavin the last living member of the Douglas clan. With their parents gone… Their cousin, Tara, had married too and joined another family. He was alone.

  Calli stepped aside, chewing her lower lip. "Gavin? Are you okay?"

  "No, not even a little bit." It was the most honest thing he'd said all day.

  "Find Jamie. Talk to her."

  He pushed up out of the chair, shaking his head. "You were right, C. I have no goddamn idea what I'm feeling or why. I can't work this out with Jamie, if it can be worked out, until I sort out my own shit."

  Calli laid a hand on his arm. "Can I help?"

  Gavin rolled his eyes heavenward. "I need therapy from my sister. This keeps getting better."

  She nudged his arm with her fist. "You're still my hero, Gav."

  He grunted.

  "My advice stands," she said. "You should talk to Jamie today. Let her know you'll be sticking around instead of flying back to America tomorrow."

  "Since when am I sticking around?"

  Calli grinned. "Since I told you to."

  "You sure have gotten snarky since you married Aidan. I think he's a bad influence." Gavin swung his arms and clapped his hands together. "I can't afford the hotel anymore, so —"

  "Oh please, like that's an insurmountable problem. You can stay with me and Aidan, or with Lachlan and Erica, or…" Her smile turned impish. "You could stay with Emery and Rory."

  Gavin threw his hands up. "Uh-uh, no way, no how. Rory would probably sneak a rattlesnake into my bed."

  "There are no rattlesnakes in Scotland."

  "He'll find something else awful and excruciatingly painful to kill me with, then." He raised one hand to silence her impending comment. "And I'm not staying with Lachlan or Aidan either. Lachlan hates me almost as bad as Rory does, and you and Aidan have Jamie with you."

  "I'll find you a place to stay, don't worry about that." She slapped his arm. "You go talk to Jamie while I call every MacTaggart from the parents on down to the cousins."

  Bunking with a MacTaggart, knowing every single one of them loved Jamie and would take her side, sounded like the awesomest plan ever. They should take her side, of course. But that didn't make it any easier for him to accept charity from them.

  One thing he knew for sure. He could not talk his pigheaded sister out of an idea once she'd decided it was the plan.

  "Fine," he said with all the resignation of a man sentenced to death row. "I'll go with your plan. Got any idea where Jamie might be?"

  "Nope." She poked a finger into his chest. "You get to call Rory and ask him."

  Yep, this day just kept getting better.

  Chapter Five

  Jamie slumped on the sofa in the sitting room of Dùndubhan, gazing out the windows into the walled courtyard of the castle. She didn't really see anything, though. Her focus had retreated insid
e herself, to the pain in her chest and the burning in her gut and the image of that blasted credit card. What in the world had Gavin been thinking? Did she mean so little to him?

  Emery occupied the chair by the window, the one where Rory usually sat. She kept eying Jamie with a strange expression. This was the look Rory said meant Emery was scheming to meddle in someone else's life.

  "I've seen it often enough," he'd told Jamie, "when my wife was meddling in my affairs. She does it gently, and there's no stopping her when you become the object of her mission."

  Jamie's life was a mess. Maybe she needed someone to gently interfere.

  The monster-movie figurines on the windowsills — Dracula, the Wolf Man, the Mummy, and a zombie — might once have seemed out of place in the home of the most uptight MacTaggart. This year, thanks to Emery, Rory had embraced Halloween.

  "Go on," Jamie said, "tell me how you think I should get Gavin back."

  She didn't like the sharp edge in her voice, but her emotions seemed to have shut down her brain. No one had ever called her tough. Sweet, cheerful, happy, even naive. Never tough.

  "Do you want him back?" Emery asked, her spooky-cat shirt glittering in the light streaming through the windows.

  Jamie hunched her shoulders. "Donnae know."

  "Yes you do." Emery rose and crossed to the table in front of the sofa where she sat down on its shiny surface. "You're a smart girl, Jamie. You know what you want. So, do you want Gavin?"

  "I do." Jamie grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her tummy. "And it's awful."

  He'd humiliated her and made her feel as pathetic and small as Trevor had five years ago. No, Gavin had made her feel even more pathetic and so small she expected she might fall through a crack in the floorboards.

  "Listen," Emery said, "I know what it's like to love a man who's damaged on the inside. Rory didn't want to love me. He did everything he could to make me dislike him, but I saw what he was really doing. It's a protection mechanism. Gavin's doing the same thing, though I know nothing about his reasons. If you really love him, if you want to be with him, you need to help him work through his issues."