Page 62 of Outlaw Ever After

Alex beamed to the crowd and slapped MacGregor upon the back. “No hard feelings, friend .”

Kendrew’s reciprocated scowl wasn’t friendly.

But then Alex turned to lock eyes with her again as he strode toward Aulay to draw his opponent’s name, a winch cranking tighter, chain growing tauter as he unfastened his doublet. He’d been stunned to see it at his door this morn, smelling of rosewater and neatly stitched.

She still cares.

He arrived beneath her, inclining his head.

“My lyre,” she said. He notched up his chin. “However did ye fix it?”

He tossed down his doublet at her feet like a hunter’s offering and shrugged. “Just some odds and ends I found.”

“Ye found lyre strings and the tools to repair them in a bairn’s old chamber? Is this a truth similar to that one about a missive left for me at Lughnasadh?” she muttered disbelievingly, eyebrows rising.

He wouldn’t let the accusation sting and flashed his cocksure grin instead. “Indeed. Exactly like that.”

“I nay buy the scheme ye try to sell me.”

“A gentleman nay shares his secrets,” he replied with that waggle of his brow.

“Ye still think that waggle works.” She bit her lip, shaking her head, capitulating an inch to his charm.

“Is it finally working its magic on my songbird?”

Her barely-smile fell and her face paled as she whispered, “I’m nay yer songbird, Alex.”

“Is that a challenge?” He unpinned his brooch from his kilt and tossed it atop the doublet, the tartan snaking off his shoulder.

It rolled on its rim, around in a spiral, then bumped her slipper and clunked over.

“Because I never back down from a challenge.”

…

God, that infuriating waggle! And his songbird? The audacity to act as if he still had a right to her. She schooled her expression. She wouldn’t lose composure.

Alex’s smile fell, too. “I’m going to win.”

He would have a right if he won. She shook her head, eyes misting and darting away as the uncertainty that had been gnawing within since his arrival ached.

“But if ye win, will ye finally follow through?” She rubbed her empty ring finger. His eyes dipped to the gesture and his jaw ticked. “What will happen when again an ally rallies ye to fight? How many months will ye be gone then? Where will I find yer so-called missives then? Mayhap I’d be better off with a predictable, dull man—”

“Like hell I’ll see ye on another man’s arm,” he gnashed out, “or this land in the possession of—”

“Whatever happened to the man who wanted the wee cottage on the shore?”

“He stands before ye—”

“—who wanted to settle there for the rest of his days?”

He huffed with frustration. Raked a paw through his hair again. More strands ripped loose as his jaw pumped.

“If ever I could turn back the wheel of time, I would turn back to that day. I’ve lived each day paying penance.”

“Choose yer conquest, Sir Alexander!” called Laird Gordon.

“I fear I might have found my conquest already.” His gaze pinned hers at his quiet declaration.