Making sure no one could overhear, River whispered to Jo, “We leave for Inverness tomorrow, and Idoexpect an explanation for what’s going on between you and Honey Bunny.” Using MacGregor’s former nickname brought a brief, very brief smile to Jo’s mouth.
“No need to wait until tomorrow,” Jo whispered back. “There is nothing going on with Mr. MacGregor. We had a disagreement. It’s now tense. I asked to switch guards with one of yours. He refused.”
“I see.” River paused and then added, “Actually, Jo, I don’t see. That explanation might work on a stranger, but we aren’t strangers, are we?”
Jo’s shoulders sagged. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Her words were grim. Her face was grimmer. River clasped her hand briefly, giving it a squeeze. Before she could say anything else, the man of the hour, or more accurately, the man of the scowl, crowded Jo from the front.
“What is wrong?” MacGregor grumbled, leaning his hulking mass low enough to put his face on a level with Jo’s. Jo wouldn’t meet his eyes, which River could tell bothered the guard tremendously.
“We were discussing when we needed to be at the airport in the morning.” River could tell Jo was on the verge of tears and would die of embarrassment if she cried in front of everyone. River caught Rowen’s eye, who joined them. “We also were finalizing Jo moving in with Row when we get home from Inverness next week. She’s taking over my suite since I’m moving into Patrick’s flat.”
Speaking of her favorite O’Faolain, her future husband slid his arm around her waist, kissing her neck as he did so. “Our flat, Riv. Not mine. Ours.”
“Ours.” River agreed. “Jo and I were just discussing how she was going to take over my suite at Mrs. Adamson’s when we get back from Scotland.”
Jo’s eyes were huge. She kept nodding even though we had been talking about no such thing. If things were this bad between Jo and her personal guard, then she needed to have another woman around to talk to.
“Good news, Jo. The bed issupercomfy,” Patrick smirked. River smiled at him. He probably didn’t know it, but he cut the tension in half.
Rowan, not slow to pick up on the weird tension, glared at Patrick. “Jesus, Patrick,” she rolled her eyes, but they were twinkling in amusement. “I’m so happy to not be alone in that big house, Jo. Thanks for not leaving me hanging. Like River,” she added with a wink and smile.
Everyone chuckled less awkwardly this time. River gave a soft pinch to Patrick’s side so he wouldn’t ask any questions, and bless him, he was one step ahead. “Hanging my ass! You, Raven, River, and Jo are interchangeable with each other, four peas in a pod.” Jo’s cheeks pinkened, Patrick’s words pleasing her. “You’ll be just as happy living with Jo as you were with the other two. But seriously, I don’t care what living arrangements you end up with as long as no one is alone. I’m only pissed Dad, Bran and I have a meeting with the distillery people next week, and I can’t go to Inverness with my fiancé.”
Raven overheard part of Pat’s rant and, laughing, asked, “Holy cow, Patrick, how many times are we going to have to endure hearing fiancé come out of your mouth?”
“Until we’re married, and then I’ll say, wife. Tell me, Raven, how many times, in the past five minutes we’ve been waiting for the cars, have you and my brother texted each other.”
Raven’s face blazed red.
“Exactly.”
Everyone laughed at her look of chagrin. “Hey, Riv,” Rowan got her attention while they were still laughing at Patrick and Raven’s banter, “I’m not going to be able to meet you guys. I know we’re celebrating your engagement at the O Building, but I have a huge design consult I’m working on. I meet the clients Monday, and I’m unhappy with some of my choices and want to spend some quiet time looking back over the initial notes.”
Rowan’s words were everything sensical, but her eyes were begging River to excuse her from the impromptu party— from being near Hugh. It crushed River that her sister and Jo were struggling with love when she and Patrick were in the best of places.
Knowing her youngest sister was hurting, River reassured Rowan with a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “Oh my God, Row! I totally forgot you were meeting the Smythes so soon. I thought your design was flawless, but I know what a perfectionist you are. No worries about tonight, for heaven’s sake. I feel like we’ve already celebrated for hours already.” Rowan’s entire body relaxed. Her relief was evident.
“Thomas, Row has to go back to the Adamson house. Can someone go with her?”
“Yes,” Thomas agreed.
Thomas MacGregor and Hugh O’Faolainhadto be related. Some way. Somehow.
As the cars arrived, Rowan handed a woven tote to River. “I forgot, Riv, I brought your mail from Triskelion.”
“Perfect, thanks. I’ll bring it with me tomorrow. And fingers crossed, I land some exclusive designs from the hermit furniture designer.”
* * *
“Your brother may not have criedas Raven predicted, but I swear when he held the baby blanket, he was blinking awfully fierce,” River noted, a smile infusing her words.
“If my bruised ribs are anything to go by, Bran did like the ‘it’s the thought that counts’ gift.” Patrick was relieved the blanket was received well. He’d been ridiculously nervous about giving it to them.
“Enough about crocheting projects, babe. Have I told you today how beautiful you are?” They’d just come up to their apartment. Everyone else had gone home or retired to their own floors. His dad had retired quite some time ago. He didn’t offer any excuses, just tossed back the rest of his Macallan 18, shook Pat’s hand, gave River a brief hug, told them congratulations, and got in the elevator. He was probably on hour two into one of his brutal workouts, attempting to put a certain woman out of his mind. Good luck with that.
As Patrick paused to turn on the alarm system, River leaned into his side and placed a kiss against his throat. She whispered against his skin, sending heat straight to his groin. “Have I told you today how addicted I am to you?”
“Tell me more, baby.” Patrick had already maneuvered River’s back against the front door and pulled her legs up to wrap around his waist.
