“I thought you let that go. It was an accident!”
A low rumbling laugh filled the car. “Relax. I’m just taking the piss. I know you’d never really try to kill me.” He opened his door and I reached for mine, but he stopped me. “No. Wait right there.” Then he walked around and opened the door for me, holding out a hand to help me out. “What kind of a husband would I be if I didn’t let my chivalry shine through every now and again?”
“Careful, I could get used to a certain lifestyle, and then where will you be?”
“I could get used to providing you a certain kind of lifestyle. You won’t see me complaining.”
God, if only I could trust that this would be how things truly would be for us.
“Taylor?”
“Becca?”
“Do you think...” I bit my lip and worked up the courage to ask him what I wanted to know.
“What, hen?”
“Do you think you could wear a kilt for me?”
“Do you really want me to?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then it would be my pleasure. But I want to warn you, everything they say about kilts is true.”
I grinned. “That’s what I was hoping for.”
TAYLOR
Squeals of joy from the two six-year-old terrors as they raced down the stairs toward me had a smile pulling my lips upward without a second thought. My nephews, Hamish and Harry. It had been ages since I saw them last, but I video chatted with them nearly every weekend.
“Oh, it’s the double Hs. What kind of trouble are you two lads up to already?”
“We came to see the woman who made an honest man out of you.”
“Hamish, Mummy said not to repeat everything we hear.”
“What? I didn’t repeat the part about how he probably already got her up the duff. What does that mean anyway? What’s the duff?”
Absolute mortification settled in my chest.
“Up the duff means pregnant like Mummy is,” my sister said, her hand resting gently on the swell of her lower belly.
“But the real question is,” I said. “Is it twins this time?”
My sister sighed.“It better not be, or that husband of mine is going to find himself having his swimmers cut off.”
Marie’s hazel eyes trailed past me and landed on the woman standing just behind me. “Is this her?” she asked, no malice in her tone, just curiosity.
Becca threaded our fingers together as I pulled her forward. “Aye, this is her. Becca, meet my wee baby sister. And apparently master procreator, Marie.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Becca said, holding out a hand for Marie to shake. But my sister let out a snort before pulling her in and wrapping her arms around her.
“None of that. You’re a McCullough now. That means incredibly over-affectionate, loud, boisterous, and completely disrespectful of privacy. Welcome to the clan.”
Becca shot me a worried glance over her shoulder, and I simply shrugged. All of it was true. I hadn’t known a moment’s peace growing up, and it was a brave soul who willingly joined the McCullough clan.
“So...” Hamish said. “Am I going to have a cousin?”