I nod. “Aye, of course.”
His voice lowers, and his hand comes to my lower back, gently pushing me away from the others, his voice low in my ear. “There are things we don’t speak of either. And I think it’s time you dropped the subject.”
I nod, caught halfway between embarrassment for speaking so boldly, like a child asking questions she shouldn't, and a tiny bit of fear at the reminder that these men do things they shouldn't. I don't want to think of what they do, but if they’re anything like my father, I know that they’re violent, and they break the law.
But those thoughts are very fleeting, because I like the way his hand feels on the small of my back. I like the way his deep, commanding voice sends a shiver of delight down my spine. And for some reason I can't understand at all… I like that I'm a wee bit afraid of him.
“Lads, I reckon we’re done here for now, aren’t we?” Mac asks over his shoulder.
“Aye, thanks, brother,” Leith says, as Mac grabs his shirt from a nearby tree branch and slings it over his shoulder. “Call me later.”
“Aye, will do.”
“Aren’t you freezin’ your bollox off?” I ask Mac. “I feel cold just looking at you.”
“Nah, lass,” he says with a teasing wink. “Not when you’re beside me.”
I grin. “You’re a shameless flirt, Mac Cowen, you know that?”
“Me?” he asks in mock surprise. “Aflirt? Never.”
I roll my eyes as he takes my hand in his. Now that we’re a good distance away from his brothers, he brings the conversation up again.
“Aye, lass, you saw us at the petrol station. We were looking for someone, and we didn't want anyone to know who we are. There's something you need to know, Bryn. We like to stay anonymous. It's very important to us that nobody knows who we are, or what we do.”
Has he put himself at risk here with his family, for me?
“I see,” I say, nodding. “I can respect that. Hell, I’d even prefer that to what my father does.” I hate how he flaunts his money and name, inspiring fear in anyone we meet. He wants every single citizen of Inverness to know who Aitkens is. He wants preferential treatment, respect, fear. I know this now. And I despise it. I reckon I'd like to have a quiet little retreat in the mountains like this, where no one knows my name.
“I wish I remember meeting you. Did we meet, then?” he asks.
“No, I just saw you from a little ways away. The details are very vague.”
He grins. “Aye, love. I know if I met you, I wouldn't have forgotten who you are."
I flush pink. “You flatter me, Mac.”
“I don’t. I simply say the truth.” He pulls out his mobile and looks at the time. “We’ve got to get the work you need to do from town. Bring it back here. Have you gotten in touch with your father today?"
I like that he’s concerned, that he doesn’t want to cause issues between me and my dad.
“Aye, and we’re good for now. He thinks I’m at a friend’s house.”
Mac scowls, and I feel guilty for lying to him. So bloody guilty.
“And he also thinks your bodyguard’s with you, doesn’t he?”
I nod. I do feel guilty about that part, and tell Mac about the conversation I had earlier with Michail.
We reach his chalet when I finish the story. Truth is, the way Mac’s face flushes in anger satisfies the hell out of me.
“I’ll kick his fuckin’ arse, if he talks to you that way again.”
“And I’d like to see you do it, but the problem is, what if he goes to my father? We have to make sure he stays quiet.”
“Aye,” Mac says. He opens the door, and we go in.
I sigh. The smell of the wood-burning stove, the faintest lingering scent of coffee, and the clean smell of the pines makes me feel like I never want to leave this place. It's so homey, the most comforting place I've ever been, even including that beautiful flat he has in town. I don’t ever want to leave this place. I’ve never had a place I liked coming home to.
