“Oh, my god. He’s really serious about this marriage thing, isn’t he?”
They all burst into laughter and I canna blame them. That sounded more shocked and appalled than happy. The happiness is there, though, a sweet ember, glowing in my heart.
As we’re leaving the restaurant, flushed and happy and maybe just a bit tipsy, Hamish quickly steps in front of me.
“Relax, ye big lummox. I’m Detective Christie and this is Detective Roy. We’ve been working on Miss Blair’s assault case.”
He reluctantly steps aside to reveal Detective Christie, wearing one of her sensible blue suits and an ironic smile. Her partner’s busy puffing out his chest at the amused clump of bodyguards.
“Girls, give me a moment, would ye?”
It’s clear they’ve all had dealings with the police before, stepping a discreet distance away.
“Ach, it’s Mrs. MacTavish now, isn’t it?” The detective is eyeing me closely. “Was this a planned thing, then?”
“A wee bit spontaneous,” I admit. “But very much wanted.”
“Itisunusual,” she says, glancing over at the armored car and the two black SUVs bracketing it. “I canna seem to find any record of ye having dealings with the MacTavish Clan at all… until word of your marriage popped up.”
I know better than to open my mouth. She’s leading this somewhere and I’m not getting in her way.
“Now, you’re not teaching at the Wallace School and ye seem to have dropped out of sight. The Detective Superintendent took your case from me.”
She steps between me and Hamish, leaning in so I can watch her lips as she lowers her voice. “If ye do not wish to be with this family. I can help ye. Not to feed me information of any crime that has been committed and god knows that with the MacTavishes, there’s a case list thicker than the Bible. Just… if ye are there against your will, I can help.”
Again. Another person with no real reason to care about me… yet does.
“I dinnae want ye to think my teary eyes are a sign of distress, Detective,” I sniffle a bit. “I’m grateful to ye for your concern.” Hamish is on his toes, looking over her shoulder at me like an anxious bulldog. “I can tell ye with absolute certainty that I am right where I want to be. That I am safe and in no danger and under no threat.”
Well, from the MacTavishes, anyway…
She blows out a long breath. “Take my card again. Just in case ye ever need to talk, aye?”
“Of course. And thank ye.”
I’m clutching her card when I slide into my seat in the car.
“Everything okay there?” Luna asks gently.
“Aye.” She’s still standing there, watching us drive away. “Detective Christie is one of the good guys.”
Logan…
After an endless day of planning for the next move against the Costa Cartel, I go in search of my wife.
She’s up in the clock tower, lying on one of the benches and watching the clouds through the skylight.
“There’s my Bella.” I lean over her, kissing her thoroughly. “How was brunch with the girls? I’m sure they shared every despicable thing I’ve ever done.”
“There was some mention of your fuckboy past,” she agrees pleasantly.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph I’ll never live that shite down, will I?”
“Ye have a clean slate with me, husband. What ye did for my kids last night? And your family sponsoring the concert? It was beautiful, and kind. Thank ye for that.” She sits up, leaning against me. It’s a surprisingly warm day for late May and the breeze sliding between the clock faces feels good.
“I’m glad. What have ye been doing up here?”
“Um, putting sounds in my treasure box.”
