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I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
What the hell was happening?
Two days ago he couldn’t stand the sight of me, and now—now I was still certain he couldn’t stand the sight of me, but something had also changed. There was a current… apressurethat hadn’t been there before. Was it me? It didn’t feel like me. I flirted and teased, but I’d always done those things. Which could only mean… the change was him.
The tread of his boots chased my light feet on the stairs. I hugged the bottle to my chest, feeling the weight of his stare as we stepped outside, crunching over gravel that carried us between the dunnage and the main building.
I expected him to lead us into the dunnage. There was a cask delivery due this afternoon and I knew he needed to clear the space before the shipment arrived, so I was surprised when he followed the path up that would lead us to his cottage. Without the protection of the building from the elements, the wind whipped around the open clifftop, tossing my hair and raising goose bumps along my arms as I drew them tighter around me. Mal glanced down at the movement and frowned, picking up his pace. Unlocking the cottage door with the single brass key he carried, he nodded for me to go ahead.“On you go, before you freeze to death.”
Freeze to death. The wind chill made it feel colder but it couldn’t have been less than twelve degrees Celsius; on the low side but still acceptable for May in Scotland.
I didn’t know what to make of this Malcolm. How to act. It was like trying to dance to your favourite song and being unable to catch the beat. Unsure of the reason for our visit, I lingered in the designated dining area, glancing around the cosy cottage I’d only been in once before. It felt a little bigger without Boy’s wild presence. Malcolm had left him up at the manor to keep Dudley company for the day. It was vital the mixing lab remained sterile, which meant no furry friends.
While he quietly closed the door, I set the bottle of whisky on the table where an unfinished puzzle caught my eye. I rounded the table to get a better look from the front. It was advanced, likely two thousand pieces. From what he’d already put together, I could see the finished result would make up dozens of bricks, all in varying shades of the same colour.“Is this Lego?” I asked, running a finger across the finished top corner.
“Aye,” he clipped.
I looked at him sidelong, quick enough to catch the high colour on his cheeks.“That’s really cool. I loved doing puzzles in my trailer while I ran lines, nothing as difficult as this though.”
Shucking out of his thick navy jumper, it became hard to decide if I wanted to watch his biceps strain beneath his white T-shirt or his face as it flitted from flushed to uncertain, before settling on what I would call his Wary Scowl. The wary scowl only came into play when he didn’t know what to say next. So I let my eyes fall back to the puzzle and picked up a dark green piece, searching for its home. I knew he was watching me.
What had started as brief glances was beginning to feel like a game now, both of us watching while the other wasn’t looking. Each time, we tiptoed a little closer to the line. I didn’t know what waited on the other side of it, if anything.
And I was desperate to know.
“Do you mind?” I asked before slotting it into place. I would never play with a man’s puzzle without asking permission first.
“Touch anything you like.” It was like all the air was sucked from the room. I heard him stutter. My hand froze over the puzzle, the piece still clutched between my fingers. If I looked at him now, I knew I’d find his face flaming red. So I spared him, cleared my throat, and slotted the piece home with clammy fingers.
Giving me a wide berth, he burst into motion, making his way to the solitary high cupboard in the kitchenette and pulling down two tumblers.“You said earlier you hadn’t tasted Kier’s whisky in a long time, I thought you might like to try it now.”
Oh.“Open the bottle you mean? It seems a shame to drink it so soon.”
“So soon? Princess, it’s been sitting in the dunnage for four years. And it’s just a wee nip.”
I supposed, when he put it like that. I handed the bottle over, making certain not to let any part of my skin touch his. He seemed to be doing the same. The room felt like a pressure cooker, certain to blow.
“What do you think of the label?” I asked, moving us onto safer ground.
His eyes flicked down like he’d just noticed it.“Aye… it’s bonny.” I’d hoped for a little more reaction, but let it slide. This was all a big change for him.
He uncorked the bottle with quick, sure movements, pouring two fingers of amber liquid into each tumbler. He held one out for me to take and our fingers grazed this time, his thick calloused digits folding over my freckled ones as he curled the glass into my hand.
“I don’t have any ice,” he said.
“That’s fine.” Bringing the whisky to my face, I took a long inhale. Sweet, spicy, and just a little bitter. His eyes were the brush of petals across my lips while I sipped.
“Hold it on your tongue,” he instructed, muscles in his arms bunching where they folded over his chest. I did as I was told, letting it pool in my mouth. A heat that didn’t belong to the whisky hurtled through me. He hadn’t drunk any of his yet, waiting—watching—for my reaction.“Good girl… now swallow.” His voice was like water rushing over rocks as his eyes trailed down my throat, following the burn of the liquor.
I held in my cough, my entire body burning.“Well… it’s nicer than I remember.”
“Aye.” He cleared his throat and sipped his own.“I suppose it improves with age.”
I clutched the tumbler tighter, speaking the words that had been on my mind since I watched him uncork the casks.“It’s so weird… drinking something that Kier had a hand in making. It makes me feel closer to him, like a part of him is still alive somehow. It also makes me want to cry like a bloody baby. Does that make sense? It probably sounds silly to you.”
“It doesn’t sound silly at all.” He licked his lips.“Kier would have been proud of you today.”
The tension simmered. It wasn’t often I felt uncomfortable, but right now, I was stretched too thin. My thoughts raced too quickly to grasp a single one. I knew he was waiting for me to say something, but I had no idea what my next line was supposed to be. What part I was even playing. I faltered back a step, spinning to face the shelves I’d been desperate to explore the first time. Now they were nothing more than a distraction.
