Page 54 of One for the Road
“Fair enough. Maybe I’ll drop by the surgery some time. My wife’s been nagging me to get my arthritis managed.” Mac raised his coffee in farewell and then headed back to his own van.
Watching Mac cut across the field, Alistair asked, “Auld Lang Slice?”
“Scotland’s best pizza,” I reminded him. “A bold claim but fully justified in my opinion.”
“Luckily I’m a bold guy,” Alistair replied, completely deadpan.
Teddy tried to hold back her laughter, pressing her chubby fingers to her lips. The sight pulled my own laugh free.
He squinted, giving her a mock glower. “You’re saying I’m not a bold guy?”
“More likeoldguy,” she replied.
I pulled an imaginary pencil from behind my ear and pretended to lick it. “One sec, let me add that to your growing personality list.Old guy.” I spelled it out. He mimed trying to peek, and in turn, I mimed showing it to Teddy. “So far we havecurmudgeon.” He merely flicked up a brow. The sun reflected against his glasses, making his eyes look even more blue. I glanced back at my invisible notepad, my voice a little rougher than before. “Freakishly clean, plays with sock puppets. Anything else, Teddy?”
“He knows everything about space.”
Alistair swerved my joke. “How could you possibly know I’m freakishly clean?”
“Your car and your house. No dust, no dirt, no crusty plates stacked up next to the sink.”
“You’ve been in my home once.”
“It was enough. You have your moisturisers alphabetised. All seven of them.”
“You counted.”
Of course I had. “I bet you even have a label maker. You look the type.”
He gave me the silent neck-jerk,What the hell?expression.
“Can I get a label maker?” Teddy asked, straight back to being my serious wee girl. “I could organise my Lego.”
I smoothed her curls back. “Why don’t you borrow Ali’s?”
Her eyes flashed to him, expectantly. He sighed. “Fine, yes, I have a label maker, and yes, you can borrow it.”
We laughed again. That was twice in the past few minutes.
Girl, calm down, no man is that funny.
“Hey, guys.” Heather’s pretty face appeared on the other side of the counter, her short hair tied back into a stubby ponytail.
“How was the dentist?” I asked, looking between the twins excitedly bouncing beside her. Heather usually watched Teddy for me on food market days, or weekend shifts at Brown’s, but this morning they’d been all the way to Portree.
“I got a sticker, and Emily only cried once,” Ava announced, proudly pointing to the toothbrush-shaped sticker on her pink T-shirt. “So Mummy bought us matching hair ribbons.”
“I only cried because you pushed in line. Mummy said I got to go first.” Emily’s hands flew to her hips.
“You know, your mum always cried at the dentist too,” Alistair said, leaning over the counter to ruffle both of their hair, one after the other. My stupid ovaries flipped at the sight. Why was seeing men playfully interacting with kids such a turn-on? They were his family; this was bare minimum effort.
Heather stuck her tongue out. “Have I fallen into a parallel universe where my brother willingly attends small-town events?”
Alistair’s hand slipped over my shoulder, cupping the back of my neck, a smirk playing over his lips. “I like Isla enough to brave the horrors of handwashing stations.”
Heather made a sicklyawwnoise. I barely registered it, too busy trying to sink into the casual touch.
“These look gorgeous,” Heather said, marvelling at the pastries. “Tell me again why you aren’t stocking these in Brown’s? People would go nuts for them.”
