“Where are we?” Luna asks, leaning across me to look at the town.
“Pencil Beach in Largs,” I explain, pointing at a towering stone spire. “See that? It’s the Pencil Monument, commemorating the historic Battle of Largs.”
“What were they battling for?”
A chuckle escapes me before I can lock my good humor down. “I canna remember. But it was historic as shite.”
My men are competent souls, and by the time we pull up to the little dock on the other side of the village, one of my guards is standing there with a bored expression and a big shopping bag.
“See that?” I slide my arm around Luna’s waist, “That’s the boat you’re going to pilot.” It’s a nimble little cabin cruiser, dwarfed by the enormous ones filling the rest of the dock slips.
“Really? Like, right now? I appreciate your willingness to fulfill your promises, though I’m not exactly dressed for an afternoon of yachting around the harbor.” She looks down at her pretty white dress, giving me a chance to stare at her cleavage.
She looks better in this dress than I expected, and it took everything I had not to sport a stonnerduring the ceremony.
“We came prepared.” I take the bag from my guard. “Windbreaker, sweater, and jeans. Oh, and proper boat shoes.”
“Oh, that’s thoughtful, thank you.” She looks in the bag, smiling a bit. A small smile.
But a smile nonetheless.
I lift her bodily onto the boat, ignoring her protests and show her the cabin. “Ya can change down here.” My little fox is getting excited now, and she gives me a grin before shutting the door in my face.
Logan jumps on the front deck, digging a bottle of Tennent’s Lager out of the ice chest.
“You’re supposed to be filling the ice chest, not stealing from it,” I say, taking one for myself.
“What is happening here, brother?” He drains half the bottle in one gulp, already eyeing my dwindling supply.
“Luna has a list of things she wants to learn. She’s spent most of her life working to support herself,” I say, pulling off my suit jacket and tie, rolling up my sleeves. “There’s no harm and if it keeps her happy…”
“It would be quicker if ya could just buy her shite,” Duncan says.
“No, that’s howyouhandle your love life,” I say, slamming the cooler lid shut on his fingers when he goes for another bottle. “Your girls insist on jewelry and flowers to tolerate yer miserable arse.”
“Speaking of, I’ve got a date,” he checks his watch. “How many men do ya want me to leave?”
“Two cars, have the men patrol the beach and keep an eye out.” I scan the harbor. “Any new arrivals will stand out here.”
“Have fun,” he says, reaching behind me to snag the last three bottles of Tennent’s from the ice chest as Luna comes out of the cabin. The little shite leaps nimbly back onto the dock, waving at my bride. “Congratulations, Mrs. MacTavish! You’re gonna teach the Atlantic Ocean a lesson it’ll not soon forget!”
“Thank you for your faith in me,” she shouts back, “it warms my heart! Truly.” Turning to me, “Your brother is a smart ass.”
“Ya have no idea,” I sigh. “I hope you’re not a beer drinker because the bawbag took it all.”
Luna’s hair flies all over her face in the breeze. “What’s a bawbag?”
“A complete bastard,” I say, handing her a cap. “This will keep your hair out of your face. The wind is a wee bit much out in the middle of the harbor.”
“You Scots have the most creative insults.” She pulls the ball cap on. “Don’t you have one of those cool captain’s hats?”
“Alas, not this time.”
The sun is maybe an hour away from setting and the long lines of fiery reds and oranges stretch across the water as I teach Luna about the throttle and how to trim the boat. She’s steering the cabin cruiser in bigger and bigger circles around the harbor with a huge grin.
“You didn’t tell me that the damn boat turns on like a car and steers like one!” She angles around a buoy. “This is easier than I thought.”
Stepping behind her, I put my hands on her hips. “Plant your feet, lass. It’s time to open this baby up.”
