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Duncan gave her a bewildered look, which made her think that coming to the pub wasn’t the best idea the Sinclair sisters had ever come up with.
“It’s a family thing. Ewan thinks we fight if we drink too much.” She glared at the pub owner. “Which. I. Don’t.”
“Better safe than sorry.” Ewan was unrepentant. “If your sisters are anything to go by, we’d better not risk it.”
“I’m telling Agnes you said that.”
Ewan paled. “Do yo
u want a wine? You can have one if you really want it.”
“I don’t...now.” And she was still telling Aggie.
It seemed Duncan had reached the limit of his tolerance for social interaction, because he tugged on her hand. “Let’s go,” he said.
And then he dragged her behind him again, making her wonder if he’d remember her wee legs if she kicked his ankles a time or two.
***
As Duncan racked up the balls, he tried to get his head around Donna being banned from singing. The fact she’d gotten up in front of people to sing in the first place stunned him enough without thinking about how bad she had to be to deserve Ewan’s reaction.
“Will you sing for me when we get home?” he asked, even though he expected her to refuse.
“Yes.” She examined the cues. “But you have to buy me a microphone first. I saw one in town that has a built-in speaker and Bluetooth, so you can send your music to it.” She batted her eyelashes at him.
“I know what Bluetooth is. I’m not that old.”
“It’s pink and sparkly,” she said solemnly.
“Bluetooth?” There was a ripple of laughter, and he looked over to find that most of the pub regulars had moved their chairs closer to the pool table.
“No,” Donna said. “The microphone.”
He wasn’t looking at her when she spoke, but he would still have sworn she’d rolled her eyes at him. “Why do we have an audience?” Was Donna that bad they’d come to watch?
“There’s nothing else to do in Campbeltown,” she said. “Now, can we get started? I want to talk about some stuff as soon as we’re finished this game.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“Let’s just play,” she snapped.
He smiled at her, hoping she was terrible at pool. He had visions of him leaning over her and sensually coaching her on how to play the game. Oh, aye, this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
“You can break first,” he offered, being a gentleman.
There were loud groans from the peanut gallery.
“Don’t do that!” an old man shouted.
Donna ignored their audience and gave him a sweet smile. “Are you sure? I don’t mind if you want to break.”
“Aye, Angel, you go ahead. Don’t worry about anybody watching you—they’ll keep their opinions to themselves.” He glared at their audience, making it clear what would happen if they didn’t.
It was cute that Donna had invited him to play pool. Clearly, she’d put some time into thinking of an activity they could do that would give them something to talk about. And after last night’s disastrous date, he was very grateful. Even to the point that he planned to only win by a few points so as not to dent her spirits.
“Okay then, if you’re sure.” She smiled before she placed her hand on his shoulder, rose on tiptoe and kissed his jaw. He felt the heat from her palm rush through his veins, making his blood boil. Her sweet, soft lips made him want to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her closer.
He felt her tremble as she moved away from him and felt a deep satisfaction in knowing he wasn’t the only one affected by the touch. Although, it bothered him that she’d given the same chaste kiss to the restaurant owner the night before. It made him want to go back there and punch him all over again. Those kisses belonged to him, and no one else.
