She glared at him. "What happened to your accent? And do you always insult women you help?"
"Ach, it comes and goes. And I only insult the ones who call me Grinch."
"Well, it fits."
He huffed a laugh, the sound reluctant but real. "You're a cheeky wee lass for someone about to pass out."
She dropped her head into her hands, another cramp rolling through her. "I don't need rescuing, you know. I've survived forty-four years of this circus."
"Looks to me like this round's winnin'," he said, softer now. He crouched in front of her, his pale eyes catching hers. "There's a chemist just up the road. I'll go in and get you what you need."
"I don't even know your name," she muttered suspiciously.
"Does it matter?"
"Yes. We must at least be on a first-name basis if you're buying me pads."
He paused, then gave her a look, both exasperated and amused. "Euan."
"Euan " she repeated, trying the name on her tongue. "Fine. I'll allow it. I am Sage."
His lips twitched again. "How generous of you .You even told me your name."
She leaned back, her face pale but her tone steady. "And for the record, Euan, you're still a Grinch."
He shook his head, pushing to his feet. "A Grinch who's about to save your pretty arse, lass. Now sit tight."
And with that, he strode off towards the chemist, leaving Sage clutching his jacket and, for the first time in days, laughing through the pain.
Chapter 13
He didn't take long. Within minutes, Euan was back, a crumpled paper bag in hand. He thrust it at her without ceremony. "Here ye go, lass."
Sage blinked at the weight of it, her brows lifting as she peered inside. Pads of different brands, tampons, painkillers, even a little packet of wipes. He'd thought of everything. She opened her mouth, but he was already scanning the street.
"I just bought a few different colours," he muttered when he saw her eyeing 3 different types of pads." C'mon, we'll find ye a place to stay."
Suspicion prickled up her spine. "And why would I follow a complete stranger down a dark street?"
"Suit yerself." He started off anyway, long strides eating the pavement. She hesitated, then sighed and trailed after him.
When she slowed, he glanced back with a scowl. "God above, women are slow."
That earned him a sharp look. "Women aren't slow, you colossal idiot. Maybe men just don't have a clue about them.Honestly, do they clone you all somewhere? Same face, same manners, completely clueless—all Grinches out of the box?"
His mouth twitched. "Is that a fact?"
She hummed pointedly, chin lifted.
They walked on in silence until the sign of a weathered inn appeared ahead: Red Mill Inn. Euan pushed open the door and led her inside to reception.
Behind the desk stood a lovely blonde woman with a dazzling smile. A baby gurgled in a basket on the counter right next to her. The woman leaned over the counter, practically glowing at Euan, and launched into ten minutes of chatter that left him unable to wedge in more than a grunt here or there.
Sage watched, arms crossed, fighting the oddest curl of amusement.
Then, from the corridor, a blur of black swept into the room. A young woman of about eighteen, and in full goth from head to toe, bolted across the lobby and launched herself into Euan's chest. He caught her effortlessly, his face lighting up in a smile so brilliant, Sage's stomach dipped. Before ,the Grinch was handsome but now he looked breathtaking.
"How's my wee Blair today?" he asked, his voice warm. His accent wasn't strong, but the lilting Scottish slipped through sometimes, softening the edges of his roughness.
