Page 74 of Highland Stars
She snorts a wee laugh, and it’s so cute.
I’ve got the guitars out and checked the tuning. They are sitting waiting for us on the kitchen table. I step over to them, then extend my guitar to Makenna.
“Isn’t that one yours?”
“Aye. But I want you to use mine. I’ll use Rory’s.”
She smiles as if she sees that as the ridiculousness that it is but goes along anyway. “I’ll do my best to play it to your standards,” she jokes. She settles onto a chair, holding the guitar in place. She runs her fingers along the grain, studying the beautiful wood.
“I never thought I’d be jealous of a guitar,” I say.
She bursts out laughing. “Malcolm, that’s so weird.”
I join her laughter. “I never said I was completely un-weird.”
“I think it’s good to be at least a little weird.”
“That’s good to know. And I agree.” I settle into a chair with Rory’s guitar. “What’s one of your weird things?”
“You mean you haven’t noticed at least a dozen things already?” She starts finger picking a soft melody that immediately makes me want to cuddle up with her.
“I’ve found everything you do charming.”
Makenna rolls her eyes, dramatically. “Oh, sure. I bet I was incredibly charming at the hospital.”
“I’ve never seen anyone writhing in pain so charmingly.”
“Oh yes. I’m sure that’s true.”
“And coming off anesthesia. That was a special time as well.”
“Oh my gosh. Did I say anything? What did I say?”
“Well, for one, you called me Dr. Handsome. Which was nice to hear.”
“Oh my gosh.” She covers her face with a hand, keeping theother on the guitar.
“To be fair, I believe you thought you were whispering to Dr. Johnson. I barely heard it.”
“Because that makes it better.”
“Ah, don’t worry. You and Dr. Handsome kiss now, so I think things are really working out for that poor girl recovering from surgery.”
“Malcolm!”
I chuckle, lean over our guitars, and plant a big one on her bonnie lips. Oh, I can’t get enough of her. Memories of kissing under the stars flash in my mind every time my lips touch hers. Her change from timid to excited participation, her wee hum when I nibbled at her bottom lip, and how right it felt to have her in my arms.
“Let’s play,” I say, knowing I’ve got to do something to keep my hands off her.
We find we both know the Beatles classicBlackbird. We play and sing the melody together and it’s nothing short of magic. It’s fine, of course, if she doesn’t want to perform with me on Friday, but she’ll be doing Scotland a disservice if she doesn’t.
I’ll still like her though.
I like her more than I would have thought possible. I’ve known her … what? Twelve days? And here I sit, imagining nights like this filled with music and laughter. And one day, bairns to join our wee band.
I need to take a deep breath and slow down.
“Can we try playing one of the songs you played that night at the pub?” Makenna asks. “It was something like ‘Will you go lassie go.’”
