The Trouble with Scotland (14 page)

“I'll work on it. But you have to go over and practice on her, while I round up a few women.” She pushed him in that direction.

He wasn't used to being pushed around, or told what to do. He didn't budge.

She stuck out her hip, propping a hand there. “Why are you being so obstinate?”

“I can scout out my own
birds
. And while I do, ye go practice yere dating skills with those blokes over there.” Ross scrutinized them. They looked out of their element, perhaps American themselves, the three of them. Maybe on holiday from university. No harm in her speaking with
them. “Give me a little space to work my magic,” he said, trying to lighten the tone between them. He and Sadie were friends, and he needed to start acting like it.

She looked at the men skeptically, probably taking their measure like he had. She gave a little shrug. “We'll meet back up in thirty minutes.”

“An hour.” He needed a break from her. Perhaps a cold shower and a double whisky, too. He had to eradicate the memory of Sadie kissing him so he could get on to cavorting.

Sadie turned and walked away. And just like that . . . he felt a twinge of loneliness in the crowded pub.

Gawd!

He walked to the bar and ordered that whisky. With drink in hand, he noticed a group of women standing by the bandstand. They weren't watching the musicians, but skimming the room, on the lookout for someone to catch. He'd help them out. He sauntered over, ready to work that magic he'd been bragging about.

But before he said hello, he glanced around to see how Sadie was making out with the Americans. Only she wasn't with them. Ross quickly scanned the room. She was with two large, redheaded twins—Scots, by their kilts. One of them left her for a moment, went to the bar, and brought her back a drink. Ross hoped she hadn't opted for alcohol, for her kidneys' sake.

She took a sip. And as if she knew she was being stared at, she shifted her eyes until they fell on his. Like she was fine and dandy, she lifted her glass to him and raised her eyebrows in some cocky salute.

Ross was cemented to the spot. He heard the women behind him, being loud and obnoxious. Sadie wasn't loud
and obnoxious. But she was occupied. Determined, he turned back to the group of women.

He found out they were up from London, city lasses, having a holiday in the
wilds
of Scotland. To him, Glasgow was about as rowdy as Mum's tame house cat. The women wasted no time, pulling him onto the dance floor. Ross took the opportunity to move about so he could catch glimpses of Sadie. She seemed to be holding her own with the two Scots. The women around him were unabashedly vying for his attention, shaking their assets at him like racing flags. But their attempts affected him as much as one of the elderly quilting ladies shaking a hanky in his face. He was bored shitless.

The song changed and the alpha of the females wiggled into his arms for a slow dance. The way she clung to him, he had no choice but to accept her invitation. He was miserable. He looked around for Sadie once more.

This time, though, things were different. He could no longer see her face, her suitors' bodies partially blocking his view. But he could tell that they'd backed her into a corner. And he could see one of the bastards running his hand up and down her arm. Ross came to a complete stop on the dance floor. The redheaded Scots were laughing it up. At the end of the joke, the other one wrapped his tree-stump arm around Sadie and pulled her into his side. Ross caught a glimpse of her face. And he saw red. She was biting her lip, clearly uncomfortable.

“Oy.” The bossy woman swatted at Ross's chest. “Why'd you stop dancing?”

He grabbed her arms and set her away from him. “Sorry, lass.” He nodded in the direction of Sadie. “Looks like
my cousin's
in a bit of trouble.”

He didn't wait to hear her response, but marched over to fix whatever mess his
cousin
had gotten herself into.

But by the time he crossed the floor, Sadie had wiggled out of Beefy's grasp and seemed to be lecturing them. She wore a stern librarian's frown, as if they'd spoken too loud in her book sanctuary. But those two weren't deterred.

“Come on, hen,” Beefy cooed, trying to get her back in the corner. “Ellar was only joking aboot ye putting yere hands on our dangling bits.”

Ross had heard enough. He grabbed Beefy by the arm, spun him around, and punched him in the nose. Da always said
go for the nose if ye're serious about taking a man down
. It worked. But Ellar retaliated with a left hook to Ross's eye. And then a punch to the gut. Apparently, the twins had more relatives in attendance, because a group of men put down their drinks and rushed toward him.

Ross didn't wait to see if they wanted to discuss the weather. He grabbed Sadie's hand and ran. Outside, he yanked the rubbish bin in front of the door and turned into the alleyway. Five seconds later, the bin crashed and he knew they were coming. He pushed Sadie into one of the many doorways and crushed himself up against her, keeping them both out of sight.

He looked down at her. Her eyes were big, staring back at him. But then she changed, her shock fast turning into indignation. When her mouth opened with the lecture that was sure to come, he didn't hesitate but captured her tongue-lashing with his lips. He kissed her into silence.

It worked. He could tell she was stunned once again. He heard voices in the road outside, but their efforts seemed fruitless. They couldn't see them in their cubbyhole unless they knew where to look, and the bums must've been too lazy, or inebriated, to come into the alleyway and search. The voices began to fade.

Ross kept kissing Sadie, even when he knew the men had given up the hunt. This was much more fun than the pub anyway. When he realized he was growing hard, and pushing into Sadie more for desire's sake than for keeping them hidden, he pulled away. “Sorry. I had no choice.”

“I know.” She was breathing hard, but frowning. “
There can't be a repeat
. Or so you said.” She ducked under his arm, freeing herself. “Does this alleyway lead out? Or do you have a clue?”

The passage curved and he was certain they'd find an outlet at the end. “Aye, it leads out.”

She took off, putting space between them, acting as if she knew exactly where she was going. The lass had a habit of running away. And she was intent on getting away from him, which made him even more resolute in pursuing her.

Hmm.
Maybe he'd been wrong about
what Sadie did or didn't know about men
. He ran a hand through his hair. He'd wasted his time trying to teach her how to land a bloke. She seemed to know instinctually all on her own. At least where it pertained to him.

Ross chased after her, determined not to put up with the silent treatment again. When he caught up, he pulled her to a stop. “What were you thinking?”

She stared at him with feigned innocence.

“Don't pretend ye don't know what I'm speaking about. Those two back there.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I was practicing, as
you suggested
. You should've stayed in Taylor Swift's arms on your side of the pub. I was handling things just fine my own.”

“Aye. Fine. Ye were almost forced into handling Ellar's dangling bits.” He shivered.

“Quit exaggerating. Didn't you notice that I had worked my way out of it until you turned all Incredible Hulk on me? I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

“As I told Dand, it's a man's job to take care of
his woman
.” Ross paused. “I meant to say, to take care of
a woman
.” His words had bent on him and jabbed him in the gut, a little higher than where Ellar had punched him. “It's what we do.
I do
.” He felt agonized. “We're friends, Sadie.” He was almost pleading, and he didn't know for what.

Her frustration boiled over and she gave him an impatient eye roll. She shook her head as she looked him up and down, as if she didn't like what she saw. “Unbelievable.”

“Let's get you home.”

Unfortunately, it was relatively early. Late enough that Dand would be in bed, but not his mother. Ross was thirty years old, but it made no difference to his mum. She would scold him for fighting, and odds were, her tirade would escalate, because he'd been fighting in a public place,
ta boot
. He may be a grown man, but the closer he got to Aunt Glynnis's house, the more his feet dragged.

At the door, he pulled Sadie to a stop. “I'm sorry.”

She got a satisfied smile on her face, accepting victory.

“Not for protecting you,” he clarified. “But for manhandling ye the way I did.”

She looked at him vacantly.

“In the alley.”

“Oh.” She touched a finger to her lips.

For a second, he relived what they'd done in the alleyway while he had her pinned to the door. But he needed to be absolutely clear. He wasn't sorry about the kiss. Not in the least. It had been the best part of the evening, rivaling the satisfaction of smashing in Beefy's nose. “No. I'm sorry for crushing ye in the doorway. I shouldn't have been so rough.” He never wanted to be rough with her. She might be feisty, but he knew she was breakable. “Are we okay then? Ye're done being angry with me?”

Lightning flashed. Then thunder rumbled.

She gave him her
Sadie smile
—genuine, full of sunshine.

“We're fine.” Her smile dissipated. “But I feel bad. The whole point was to find you someone new. A woman to get Gandiegow off your back. We'll just have to try harder tomorrow night. Okay?”

But Sadie was a nice lass. And the thought of taking her back to the pub and having the likes of Ellar and Beefy pawing her made Ross's blood turn to fire.

No, he would return her to Gandiegow; at least he could trust the men there.

But can I?
He thought about everyone he knew. No one seemed right for Sadie. The right man had to be like her:
true, genuine
. And the thought of her going back to the States and dating there didn't seem right either.

He came to a decision. He would talk to Sadie about joining a nunnery. She'd like it there . . . plenty of time to read.

Ross opened the door and they stepped inside.

Mum emerged from the parlor. “Ye're back early.”

He watched as his puffy eye registered with his mother. He put his hand up. “Mum—”

But one measly hand wouldn't stop her. Neither would a fleet of battleships. “Ross Alistair Armstrong, ye've been fighting.”

He was a man. He was a Scot. At one time she'd understood that boys fought, but now without Da, she seemed to have forgotten that basic fact.

His mum looked outraged, ready for a fight herself. “Did ye take Sadie to the dirty pub? Ye should've taken her someplace nice. And to fight . . . Ross, what were ye thinking?”

Sadie slipped in front of him, touching his mother's arm lightly. “No, Grace. It's all my fault.”

He laid a hand on Sadie's shoulder. “It's okay, lass.”

She ignored him, keeping her attention on his mother. “It's not what you think. It was me. An accident. I—I elbowed your son in the face.”

His mum was no dummy. She looked from the height of Sadie's elbow up to his eye. “Were ye hanging from a ladder when ye did it?”

Sadie laughed nervously, glancing up at Ross.

How is the lass going to get out of this one?
Anxious to see, he stood by silently, waiting.

His mother pinned her with a stare. He'd seen this look before when he'd tried to dig himself out of a hole.

Sadie clutched her hands in front of her. “It's like this. Um, I dropped my purse. I didn't even know that I'd dropped it.” She nodded her head as if she liked the story that she was spinning. “Ross was a gentleman and bent over to get it. I wasn't watching what I was doing and whacked him in the face when he came up.”

Mum returned her attention to him with her lie-detector eyes.

Gawd.
He'd have to back up the lass. He hid his swollen knuckles behind his back. “Aye. That's exactly how it happened.” As long as Mum didn't see his bruised abdomen, he and Sadie might be in the clear.

But his mother surprised him. A flash of understanding registered across her face, and something puckish played in her eyes.

She wasn't buying one bit of their story, but she wasn't calling them on it either.
Why
?

Mum pointed to the stairs. “Well, Sadie, since ye injured him, ye'll have to tend to the cut above his eye. The first aid kit is in the linen closet.”

Ross spun her in the direction of the steps, wanting to get away from his mother's all-knowing gaze. But he made it only a few feet before his mum spoke one last time.

“Sadie, run in the kitchen first, luv. Ross'll need a bag of peas from the freezer for his sore knuckles.”

He paused, but then leaned down and spoke to Sadie. “Do as Mum says. I'll retrieve the first aid kit and meet ye upstairs.” He turned back to his mother. “'Night.”

“Night, Rossy,” his mother said. And that was exactly what he felt like, a mischievous lad.

He went upstairs to the loo, found the first aid kit, and
took it back to his room. He could take care of this himself.

A second later, there was a knock at the door. He answered it. Sadie stood there with the bag of peas. “Thanks.” He took it from her and started to shut the door.

She blocked it, stepped in, and closed the door behind her. “Put the peas on your hand, while I work on your face.”

“I've got it.”

“Your mother said I needed to tend to you. I don't think it would be wise to get on the wrong side of her. Do you?”

He agreed. But also, Sadie seemed so determined, he felt as if he really didn't have a choice.

He glanced around, but already knew the only place to sit in the small room was the bed.