Some Like it Scottish (20 page)

Moira motioned to the commotion—dinner—everyone getting to know one another. “It's going well.”

Kit smiled back. They chatted quietly for a while about her quilt. But inside, Kit was still reeling over Ramsay.

Now that Harper and her clients were here, it only made sense that Kit should move in with them at the quilting dorm. She felt sad about it. She'd gotten used to the Armstrongs' noisy household, and she was just starting to build a rapport with Maggie. Also Kit very much
liked sleeping in Ramsay's room, in his bed, surrounded by his things. Staying there made her feel safe and secure. Which was a strange sensation for her.

Maggie arrived at Quilting Central and walked straight to Kit. “Can you come back to the house with me now?” Her face was glowing, her eyes bright. “I have something to show you.”

Moira touched Kit's arm and whispered, “Go on. All's going well. We've got yere girls.”

At that moment, Rhona gathered Kit's clients around her own sewing machine and gave them a preliminary lesson on how to thread the machine and how to use the pedal.

“Don't be afraid. You won't hurt your machine,” the schoolteacher instructed the group.

“Okay.” Kit followed Maggie to the door, Rhona's words echoing in her head.
Don't be afraid
.

As soon as they set foot in the cottage, Kit saw that the dining table was filled with beautiful centerpieces: quart-sized Mason jars filled with shells, greenery, and long twigs. They were naturally elegant, a miniature depiction of life by the sea.

Kit turned to Maggie. “These are amazing.”

Rowena and Sinnie came up behind them. “We helped,” said the older of the two sisters.

Maggie picked up the closest jar. “I figured I would play around with a design and, well, the three of us got carried away.”

Kit smiled at the sisters. “They're perfect.”

Sinnie scooted two of them closer together. “We thought that right before yere gathering, we'd add a few fresh flowers.”

“Thistles?”

“Aye.”

“Perfect,” Kit said again.

The door to the cottage opened and Ramsay stepped in, holding flowers and a box of chocolates in his hands. His eyes landed on her and her breath caught. If she'd been a dreamer instead of a feet-planted-firmly-on-the-ground sort of girl, she might have even said that his eyes were smoldering for her.

Ramsay handed the flowers and chocolates to Maggie. “For you.”

Maggie gaped at him. “Why?”

“For all you do. For putting up with us.” He leaned down and gave her a sisterly kiss on the cheek.

Kit's heart warmed . . . then squeezed in as if it had been hugged.

Rowena and Sinnie actually sighed.

Yeah, Kit knew how they felt. You just didn't expect a big brawny man like Ramsay to be so sweet and tender.

He winked at Maggie. “Does that get me off of trash-burning duty for a while?”

Maggie brought the flowers to her nose and inhaled. “Nay. But maybe tonight I'll make Ross do it for ye.”

Ramsay walked to the kitchen, brushing Kit's arm as he passed.

He went straight to the trash can and pulled out the garbage bag. “I'll be back in a bit.”

As he walked out, Rowena and Sinnie looked after him as if they might swoon. Poor Ramsay. He had no idea the effect he had on women. Kit made a decision. For Ramsay's sake, she better find a couple of men for Maggie's sisters. Those girls were carrying a serious torch for him.

Maggie handed the flowers off to Rowena. “Mama's
crystal vase is in the china hutch.” She set the box of chocolates on the table and pulled the ribbon. “How about one piece before dinner?”

The four of them devoured some chocolates and had the box stored high in the cabinet before Ramsay made it back from the burn barrel.

“Kit, have you a minute?” Ramsay stood in the doorway. “There's something I want to show you.”

Kit looked to Maggie.

“We were just headed back to Quilting Central anyway,” she said. “Take your time.”

Kit gestured toward the table. “Thank you again for the centerpieces. They're absolutely lovely.”

“Och. 'Twas nothing.”

Ramsay waited just outside. As Kit walked past, she could feel the energy rolling off him. She leaned in his direction, but as she did, she realized she was as bad as Rowena and Sinnie when it came to Ramsay.

When the door shut, Ramsay laid his hand on her lower back. It was a small courteous gesture, perhaps guiding her, and he couldn't know its effect. Warmth pooled low in her, and she had the need to lean into his hand to better feel the pressure of his touch. She pulled away instead and started walking down the boardwalk.

“So what do you want to show me?” She sounded way too perky, forced, maybe even a little shrill.

“Ye'll have to wait and see.”

Kit glanced up. There was a twinkle in his eyes that she'd come to expect.

“Smile, sprite,” Ramsay cajoled. “I'm afraid ye've been spending too much time with Deydie.”

There was something contagious about his good
nature that made her want to be near him. Kit bit her lower lip, trying to stop the smile he'd elicited. The more time she spent with him, the more she enjoyed his teasing.

Yes, Ramsay was as entertaining as he was gorgeous to look at, and he had nearly kissed the panties off of her.

But since her father's death, she'd shied away from fun-loving people. She'd surrounded herself with those who understood how hard the day-to-day could be, that every moment had to be wrangled into submission. Her kind of people understood that in an instant everything could change and all could be lost. Her people were serious businesspeople . . .

It hit her like a wrecking ball. She had no business kissing Ramsay, even if it was only for fun. She must hold true to her convictions. She glanced longingly at him and his talented lips, feeling sad.

As they approached the dock, he stopped and studied her closely, his eyebrows squinching together. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” She forced a smile to her face. “Why do you ask?”

“Ye look like ye're lost.”

In a way, she was.

He stepped up on the dock and she followed, wondering what this was all about. If he was forcing her onto another vessel, he'd better have her life vest ready.

He stopped in front of a boat and took her hand. “Here she is.”

“Who?” She didn't recognize the boat, which definitely hadn't been there before. It was an older pleasure boat, large enough to hold a dozen people.

He pulled her into his arms and hugged her. “I was angry at you, lass. A man just doesn't take money from a
woman. But I realized I could do an honest job of earning it. The amount you paid me was the last I needed to buy the boat for my guided fishing business.”

For a second, she reveled at being in his arms once again. But she'd made her decision. She couldn't get her heart involved with this man. She patted his back platonically and then pushed him away.

“Good for you,” she said.

He gave her a deep frown, not looking very Ramsay-like at all. He looked more like the pissed-off warrior she'd glimpsed yesterday when he'd abused her lips so thoroughly.

“And good for me,” she added. “Now my bachelors will be occupied.”

“It's always business with you,” he said accusingly.

“Yes. It is.” She stood tall as if he was challenging her. “It's who I am. But I'm still very happy for you.”

He studied her for a moment. He seemed resigned as he climbed onto the boat. “Will you come aboard so I can show you around?” He put his hand out to her.

“Do you have any protection for me?”

He gave her a wicked grin and reached for his wallet, pulling out a small packet. It took a second for her brain to catch up with what her mouth had said.

“No! Not that. A life jacket. To keep me safe.” She couldn't stop the heat from radiating in her cheeks.

“It's yere loss, kitten.” He shoved the condom back in and returned his wallet to his pocket. “It could've been fun.”

“I can't afford fun,” Kit muttered. She stuck her hand out. “Life jacket?”

“We're not going anywhere. Ye'll be perfectly safe here at the dock,” he assured her.

“Most sinkings happen at the dock.” She'd read that.

“But we could just step off if she takes on water,” he said.

“Humor me.”

He reached under the seat, pulled out a life vest, and handed it over. “Better?”

“Better.” She donned it.

He took her hand and helped her aboard, but seemed to lose his balance on purpose just so he could pull her to him again. He gazed into her eyes with his arms still around her. “You need my help, kitten.”

Being this close kept her off-balance. “Oh?” She was a little mesmerized with the depths in his eyes. She saw wisdom there and it intrigued her.

“Aye. I need to teach ye to have a little fun.” His voice was rough with emotion.

With one arm still clamped around her waist, he reached up and smoothed back her hair. The boat rocked her repeatedly against him. And because the life vest was bulky, her chest was pushed back while her hips pressed into him intimately. Images of the two of them together, what it might be like, washed over her, as the currents under the boat brought them together in an age-old rhythm.

As he leaned down to kiss her, Kit felt right with the world. To hell with the lecture she'd given herself only moments ago. Maybe her convictions were wrong and the man was right. Maybe she should learn to have a little fun.

She leaned up, closed the distance between their lips, and captured his mouth.

“Gawd,” Ramsay growled into their kiss. He clutched at her, trying to get closer, but the vest was in the way.

She enjoyed his frustration as she Frenched the hell out of him.

But he stopped kissing her and started undoing the zipper of her life jacket. Just then a wave broke over the edge and splashed her feet. And it all came flooding back, raw panic coming over her. Someplace in the back of her mind, she knew it was unreasonable. They were, after all, tied to the dock. But she slapped his hands anyway, as if she was flailing helplessly in the water, drowning. Like her father.

Ramsay grabbed her hands and crushed her to him, shushing her, whispering guttural foreign words, calming words, soothing her.

That's when she realized she was sobbing, clutching him as she buried her face in his chest.

“
Mo chridhe
. My heart.” He rubbed her back, not letting her go.

Slowly she relaxed, letting the safety of Ramsay's embrace steady her.

But it took a while to get herself completely under control. Which was so strange. She was, after all, the one in her family who never lost it. She never cried. Not even at her father's funeral. There hadn't been room for it. She had had to take charge, take care of her family—there had been no time to grieve. But here she was, years later, crying for the father who'd let her down.

Ramsay stooped to look at her face while tucking her hair behind her ears. “There. Better?”

She stared at his chest. “You probably should change your shirt. Sorry.”

“Och. It's of no matter. How about we get you off this boat?”

She squeezed his biceps. “No. I'd like to take a look around. Really.” It was one thing to be in a dinghy on the open water. It was quite another to be on a larger boat, tied to the dock. Her fear would not control her.

Ramsay kissed her forehead and took her hand, holding it between them. “If you suddenly need off the boat, I'll understand.”

“I think I'm fine now.” She stared at her drying tears on his chest.
He's a good man.
She wondered what would have happened if she'd cried all over one of her Wall Street dates. They probably would've asked her to pay for dry cleaning.

Ramsay proudly gave her the tour, pointing out his favorite features and talking about how things would run. His excitement was palpable and she knew how he felt. To finally achieve your dream after visualizing it and working toward it for years—it was a magical experience, almost as if it was ordained, everything coming together to a singular point. In a way, they really weren't that different.

Time slipped away and the sun started to set.

“I can't believe I stayed away so long. I have to get back to Quilting Central. Or the dorm by now. What will my clients think?”

He laid steadying hands on her shoulders. “Let me make a call.” He pulled his cell from his jeans pocket. Five seconds later, he was speaking. “Cait? Ramsay here.” He was silent for a second. “That's why I'm calling. Okay. I'll put her on speaker.”

“Kit?” Cait said through his cell. “Don't worry about a thing. Harper got everyone settled in. Right now Deydie and Bethia are telling your ladies stories. You're not needed here tonight.”

“I'm not?” Kit said.

“Just be at Quilting Central at nine a.m. We'll get going about then.”

“But I had planned to stay at the dorm with them,” Kit said.

Ramsay shook his head no.

“Maggie says you're needed at her cottage. Something about a male rebellion if you're not there to cook breakfast.” Cait laughed. “What have you been feeding them?”

“Nothing special.”

“Well, I think ye're needed more there than you are here,” Cait said. “See you in the morning.”

Ramsay hung up the phone with a grin on his face. “There.” He spun Kit around so she was facing the ocean. “Now watch yere sunset and let the worries of the day go.” He pulled her into him so that her back rested against his strong chest, all her tension washing away.

Her emotions had been all over the place today, but right now, she felt anchored. That was a feeling she hadn't had in a long, long time.

After the sun went down, they headed slowly back to the cottage, where only a small light in the kitchen remained on. Everyone seemed to have gone to bed. The centerpieces had been moved into boxes near the door.