She swatted at his arm, sending another spray of water in all directions. “And ye look like a kelpie dragged straight from the loch!”
The tavern roared with laughter.
Davina’s cheeks flushed pink beneath the wet strands clinging to her face, but her smile remained unembarrassed. The fire’s glow caught her eyes, turning them warm and soft, and Baird felt that same, undesirable sensation take hold of him once more.
“Come,” he murmured, guiding her toward the hearth, with his hand gentle at her back. “Before ye freeze solid.”
They settled near the blaze. Davina wrung out her soaked sleeve with a mortified gasp, sending water dripping onto the stone floor.
“Oh heavens,” she whispered. “We’re a spectacle.”
He could only smile at that. Outside, the storm raged. Inside, warmth and laughter wrapped around them like a shared secret. And it occurred to Baird that he could run through a hundred storms with her and never tire of it.
CHAPTER 17
By the time evening settled over the village, the storm had only grown fiercer. Rain battered the tavern roof with relentless force, and wind howled through every crack in the shutters. Even Baird admitted there was no hope of riding back to the castle until morning.
And so, a room had been secured.
A shared room.
Davina stood inside it now, staring at the bed in the corner as though it personally intended to ruin her life.
It was small… laughably so. It was a bed built for two only in the most optimistic sense: narrow, short, with a mattress that sagged in the middle like it had surrendered years ago.
Baird closed the door behind them and set down their things. “It’s nae ideal,” he admitted, shrugging off his damp cloak. “But it’s the only room they had.”
Davina crossed her arms, unable to tear her gaze from the bed’s pitiful width. “Couldnae ye have gotten us two rooms?”
His brows rose. “There was only this one left. And Davina, we’ve been sharing a bed fer days now.”
She turned toward him sharply. “That is different!”
“Is it?” he asked, tilting his head in amusement.
“Aye! The bed at the castle is… it’s…” She gestured helplessly. “Huge. This one is hardly wider than a bench!”
He looked at the bed, then back at her. “Aye,” he conceded, “it’s… compact.”
That was a generous word for the disaster before them.
Davina pressed her lips together, mortified by the heat creeping into her cheeks. The bed required far too much closeness. She could already imagine the inevitable: knees touching, shoulders brushing, the accidental tangle of limbs in the night. Her pulse fluttered at the thought.
Baird must have noticed her discomfort, because his expression softened. He stepped closer but kept enough distance to honor the promise he’d made days earlier.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. His apology was not something she expected, especially from him. “This bed will have tae dae, but…” He hesitated. “If ye want… I can sleep on the floor.”
Davina blinked. He had apologized, and now, he was offering to sleep on the floor? It was evident that he meant every word of it. He would sleep on the hard, uneven boards without complaint if she asked.
She looked at the floor, at the crooked planks and then, at a pile of lumpy blankets likely crawling with hay dust. The thought of him lying there because of her fear felt unbearable.
“I… I would nae like that.”
Baird’s head lifted, and she could see surprise flickering in his eyes.
Davina swallowed, forcing herself to continue. “Ye shouldnae sleep on the floor. We’re both tired, and the storm will nae ease until morning. We…” Her cheeks warmed even more. “We can certainly find a way tae be… comfortable.Taegether.”
This time, it was his breath that caught. For a moment neither of them moved. The storm pounded against the tavern beams while a quieter, more dangerous storm brewed between them.
