Page 48 of Chaos At Second Sight

“No, I understand that. Men and their need to prove who’s top dog. It’s biological. I just, um, need to…grab something from my room.”

He relaxed.

“Sure.”

He walked me to the packhouse’s entrance, his kilt swaying with every step. I awkwardly waved at him, eyes drifting to his calves again. Once he disappeared from view, I bounded upstairs two steps at a time, reached the landing, and collapsed on the floor.

I took a minute to calm my racing heart.

I analyzed my long-sleeved MacKenzie dress, the checkered cobalt-blue fabric fitted at my waist and loose enough to move with my every step. If I changed, he’d notice.

I darted to my bathroom, swiped on deodorant, and stared in the mirror, criticizing my hair, tied into a bun so tight it lifted my eyebrows. I combed it out, glaring at the stubborn short wispies around my face that always curled from the humidity. Then I flossed and brushed my teeth, washed my face, and smoothed cherry lip balm over my lips. Finally, I added a touch of mascara. Luckily, I hadn’t had much dinner or I’d have thrown up from how tight my stomach was. I hadn’t even been this nervous for my anatomy final.

I gnawed the inside of my cheek. Calm down. It’s just Rudolph.

“You’re beautiful. Just like your mother.”

“Grandma!” I slapped a hand over my chest. “I didn’t hear you!”

She nudged the door shut with her hip. “You’re probably distracted by the young man pacing outside.” She took the brush from me and ran it through my hair. “Let me.”

My shoulders loosened. Grandma carried that special kind of safety only grandparents had. As long as they were still here, a part of you never truly had to grow up, like childhood never quite let go of you.

“Oh, the nerves of first dates!” She parted my hair into three, twisting them into a braid. “Your mother was the same. She was so nervous that she did everything to mask her feelings. So much so that at one point, your father almost rejected her.”

I chuckled, looking at my grandmother’s reflection in the mirror. “He’d never do that.” It had to be physically impossible. His love for Mom was beyond normal.

“Isabella didn’t know that.” Grandma tied the braid off with a blue ribbon. “And your father! Cheeky and handsome! Rather like the blond hunk downstairs.”

My heart did a somersault. And why did everyone keep specifying that he was blond?

“My rionnag.” She smiled. “Don’t let your nerves steal the experience. Logan is the other half of your soul.”

I threw my arms around her just as a knock sounded.

“Nighean òg. Màthair.” Uncle Clyde strolled in, holding a big pot, spoons sticking out of his shirt pocket. It didn’t matter the time of day or the month, stew was always ready in this house. “Didn’t see you eat, baby girl.”

After brushing my teeth, there was no way now.

“Of course she hasn’t!” Grandma declared. “She’s got a date with the Hollywood star.”

“Grandma…”

“The lycan boy looks more nervous than she does! Might throw up all those cows he stole.” Uncle sat on my checkered armchair and served himself stew.

Aunt Sarah arrived carrying a bowl. “You can’t have stew without gravy.”

Three minutes later, Uncle Knox appeared. “Oh! There you are, wife. I was worried.” As if they couldn’t communicate through their mind-link.

Grandpa barreled in with a tray of pies right before Lachlan showed up. At least he was honest enough to admit he just came to hang out.

Another knock came. I stilled, every hair on my arms standing.

“I heard the party moved up here!” Pamela’s blue eyes searched the room, and a smile erupted on her freckled face when she spotted me. “What have I missed?”

I huffed, shoving a stew bowl into her hands to shush her.

Aunt Layla, Uncle Angus’s mate, peeked through the window. “Your mate does have great hair.”