For Love of a Grump: A Grumpy Soft for Sunshine Collection

Chapter 4

Howdare he? I am not needy.

Charlotte slammed her sledgehammer into the wall and watched in satisfaction as chunks of plaster and pieces of lath rained down. It had taken her a couple of hours to work her way through the hurt, but on the other side of coffee and huevos rancheros, she’d found her way to the mad. Mad was a lot more comfortable. The Vasquez clan had quick, passionate tempers that burned hot, then flamed out. Well, except for her abuela, who was famed for her ability to hold a grudge. Charlotte was pretty sure she just might rival Tita Carlotta on that front after this morning’s debacle. So she’d taken one of the estate 4x4s and come out to the next cottage slated for renovation to work off this need for violence. And if she was picturing Malcolm Niall’s head on the wall that framed in the microscopic bathroom, well, who could blame her?

“Stubborn, narrow-minded, testosterone-poisoned asshat.”

Another shower of plaster and lath fell to the floor under the siege of her hammer. At this rate, she’d have the entire wall demolished in twenty minutes. That would speed along the demo portion of this project. She couldn’t do a lot more than that in this cottage until the roof got fixed, and that was, sadly, outside her area of expertise. Plus, there was that unfortunate issue with heights. But she could get the rest of the clearing out done.

Because English wasn’t doing the trick for really venting her frustration, she switched to Spanish, letting loose a string of creative insults as she cleaned up debris and a collection of energy bar wrappers someone had left at some point. Then she picked up the hammer again and widened the hole in the wall, blow by blow. The musicality of the language was really so much more satisfying for swearing.

“That looks incredibly cathartic.”

Charlotte paused mid-swing to find Sophie in the doorway, hands tucked neatly in the pockets of her fleece vest, gaze focused on the widening hole. “It is.” She noted a faint tightness around Sophie’s mouth. “You want in on some of this action?”

For a moment, she thought the girl would refuse, then Sophie stepped fully into the cottage. “Can I?”

“Sure. You ever swung a sledgehammer before?”

Sophie shook her head.

Charlotte instructed her on how to hold the hammer and where to stand. “We’re taking out this whole wall to prepare for ultimately making the bathroom a little bigger. Pipes run up that exterior wall, so you don’t need to worry about damaging those.” She stepped out of the way. “Go ahead.”

Sophie hefted the hammer and took a clumsy swing at the wall that mostly bounced off where it hit one of the studs. Narrowing her clear grey eyes, she readjusted her grip and stance and swung again, this time caving in a chunk above the hole Charlotte had started.

“Get it, girl!” Charlotte wiped her sleeve over her sweaty brow and reached for the big water bottle she’d brought as she watched Sophie fall into a beautifully destructive rhythm. The girl definitely had something to work off. Charlotte wondered what it was.

She didn’t know Sophie well beyond the fact that she and Kyla had opened an event planning business at the MacKean estate of Ardinmuir, and Sophie also ran a flower shop in the village. There was a lovely, bright spirit behind that usually quiet facade that was being smothered by something in her life. It wasn’t her friends, so Charlotte concluded it was likely family-related. She didn’t know what Sophie’s situation was, but it seemed she was short on positive female interaction aside from Kyla. Charlotte was happy to step in and do a little mothering.

Even as the thought struck her, Malcolm’s words replayed in her brain.

A needy, opportunistic, mother-hen type. Just because the boy you raised is all grown up and disnae need you anymore, dinna think you should start in on everyone else.

Her hand tightened on the water bottle. It wasn’t wrong to care about people, damn it. And there was nothing shameful about the fact that she still had a yearning that had never quite gone away, despite her role in Raleigh’s life. She had a lot of love to give to someone. Clearly, that would never be Malcolm Niall.

The jerk.

By the time Sophie stopped several minutes later, sweat beaded along her temple, causing that rich, dark hair to curl a little at her hairline. The tightness around her mouth was gone.

Charlotte handed over another bottle of water. “Feel better?”

“Surprisingly so.”

“So, is it a man, work, or family that’s got you in a lather?”

Sophie sipped and winced. “I appreciate that you think I have time for a man between work and family obligations.”

“Honey, you make time for the good ones—man or woman. So, I take it there’s no one special right now?” She thought about Connor MacKean and that long look from last night.

“There’s been no one special at all. I dinna have the bandwidth for a relationship. Not between the shop and all the weddings we’ve been putting on, and my stepmother—” Sophie cut herself off with another long pull on the water.

“Don’t feel like you need to keep mum on my account. I don’t know your step-mama, and as a rule, I’ve not had reason to be over-fond of any stepmothers. Raleigh’s was a raging bitch.”

Sophie choked on the water.

Charlotte shrugged. “Well, she was. All I’m sayin’ is, if you need to vent, I’m an outsider here and a safe space.”

The corner of Sophie’s mouth quirked. “I’ll tell you mine if you’ll tell me yours.”

The keenest edge of her anger had already been dulled, so Charlotte jerked her shoulders again and hoped her face didn’t betray her discomfort. “Nothing much to tell.”

One of Sophie’s dark brows winged up. “Are you sure? Because I saw you go into Malcolm’s place last night.”

Just freaking perfect. Now people are going to be thinking things and making assumptions. Who else just happened to be looking in that direction at that moment?

Deciding to take the bull by the horns, she capped her water. “It’s not like that. Nothing happened. I just went over, and we had a drink together. Talked a while. Fell asleep. Woke up this morning, and he was an unmitigated ass, as usual, and said some pretty unforgivable things. I’m pissed off about it, so I’m taking my frustrations out on inanimate objects.”

Sophie hummed a quiet, nonjudgmental noise that definitely had the flavor of methinks the lady doth protest too much. Or maybe Charlotte was just reading things into her non-reaction, because she let it go.

“I live with my stepmother. She has a lot of… challenges.”

“Health challenges?”

“She thinks so. Sometimes it’s hard to tell where the line is between legitimate conditions and things she’s inflated in her own mind.”

“Can’t your dad help with that?”

A flash of pain twisted Sophie’s features for a moment. “He died several years ago. Heart attack.”

Charlotte silently cursed herself for stepping on that land mine. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.” Riding on instinct, she stepped in to wrap the younger woman in a tight hug.

After only a moment’s hesitation, Sophie squeezed her back, relaxing into the embrace. “Thanks. My stepmother and I don’t exactly get on. She disnae like that I look like my mother.”

“Because she’s reminded of who came before her?”

“Because my mother was Indian. My father was white.” She gestured to her eyes. “This is just about the only thing I got from him physically.”

“So, your stepmother is a prejudiced bitch?”

“She’s… set in her ways.”

Charlotte squeezed Sophie’s arms. “Honey, don’t make excuses for people who belittle you because of the color of your skin. We’ve got enough people doing that to us without helping them along the way.”

“You sound like Kyla and Connor.”

“Good. Maybe if enough of us say it, you’ll listen. Why do you live with her if she’s like that?”

“Partly because I made a promise to my father before he died. Partly because I can’t afford to move out and pay for the rent on my shop. Yet, anyway. I hope that’ll change with the new wedding business.”

“If there’s anything at all I can do to help, name it. I’m there. No one should have to live like that.”

Sophie’s smile bloomed full and lit up her lovely face. “Thank you.”

“Why did you come out here, anyway? Were you looking for me?”

“Yes, and no. I finished up the landscaping over at number six and was on my way home when I saw your 4x4. I thought I’d stop in to talk to you about the landscaping plan for a couple of the other cottages.”

“You’re fabulous at anything that’s green and growing, so I’m sure the plans are wonderful, just like all the others.”

It was Sophie’s turn to twitch her shoulders in a shrug. “They’re not my properties, so I’d just as soon have someone else to confer with. And right now, Kyla’s pretty consumed with newlywed bliss.”

Charlotte laughed. “You’re not wrong. They’re not my properties, either, but, of course, I’d be happy to discuss. I love all things design.” She passed over a second set of gloves. “Here, put these on and tell me about it while we clear this debris.”

* * *

“Baaaaa!”

Three fuzzy little heads butted Malcolm’s legs, demanding attention.

From the other side of the stall door, Raleigh grinned. “I think you’re gonna have your hands full with those three.”

Because he couldn’t very well say he hadn’t bought them for himself, Malcolm only grunted and knelt to scratch behind wooly ears.

“Well, if you’re good managing the triplets here, I’m gonna head on over to Pippa’s to let her know I’ve picked up another couple of cows to add to the herd.”

“You go on. They aren’t my first lambs.”

With a salute, Raleigh donned his hat and strode out of the barn.

“Baaaa.”

“Baa. Baaa!”

Malcolm looked down at the trio of Valais black nose lambs currently trying to climb his legs and wondered what the hell he’d been thinking. Seemed he’d been doing a lot of not thinking the past twenty-four hours. He had no idea what had possessed him to think they’d be a good apology gift, except that he knew Charlotte loved animals, and he couldn’t imagine this rambunctious group of babies not making her smile. After he’d shoved his foot well and truly down his throat this morning, he needed to bring that smile back, however possible. Presenting her with a trio of the world’s cutest, most docile breed of sheep had seemed like a great idea when he’d spotted them at the auction. Now that he had them home, he was questioning his sanity. What if she would’ve preferred a dog? Or a cat? Or no animals at all?

He couldn’t quite imagine that, because she had a massive soft spot for Mabel, the Heilan’ coo Raleigh and Kyla had rescued over the summer, who behaved far more like a dog than the cow she was. Now that Mabel had gotten too big to bring into the house, all of them were missing her. Not that the sweet girl ever missed more than a day of play with one of the three of them. And, yeah, okay, Malcolm, too, when no one else was around to see. It was hard not to be amused by a cow that played fetch and loved cuddles.

“Alright, you lot. I’m gonna go get your mum.” God, he hoped Charlotte would take this gift as it was intended.

Carefully shutting the babies into the stall, he went in search of her.

She wasn’t out playing with Mabel, and she didn’t answer the door of her flat. Malcolm debated for about five minutes whether that was because she wasn’t home or because it was him on her stoop. Finally deciding there were no signs of life, he headed up to the manor house to check. She often took advantage of the bigger kitchen to cook, something they all benefitted from because, damn, the woman had skills.

He spotted her through the kitchen window and dragged himself to the back door, dread pooling in his gut. Once upon a time, he’d have simply walked on in. He’d been doing it for years. But the house was no longer Afton’s, so that didn’t feel appropriate. In truth, he struggled to feel welcome in the house now, though Raleigh and Kyla had done nothing to indicate that had changed. And hell, now that they were real newlyweds, walking on in seemed like a dangerous thing to risk. Safer to knock.

Bracing himself, he did exactly that, stepping back off the stoop to wait.

A few moments later, the door swung open. Charlotte filled the space, dark eyes cool, full lips pressed into a firm line. She said nothing at the sight of him, just waited, a kitchen towel in one hand, her fist propped on the curve of her hip. A streak of something that might have been flour dusted one olive cheek, and he was struck by the absurd urge to wipe it away.

Good way to lose a hand.

He swallowed. “I’ve got something to show you.”

“I’m not really inclined to go anywhere with you, Malcolm.”

Beyond embarrassed and utterly ashamed of his behavior, he rubbed at the heat that rose to the back of his neck. “Look, I behaved badly this morning. Please, just come see what I have to show you.” The scent of something delicious and full of spices wafted out from behind her. “If you’re to a point where you can step away from whatever you’re cooking.”

Those espresso eyes searched his face. “Fine. Let me just turn the heat down.” She disappeared for a few seconds, then came back with empty hands.

Neither of them spoke as he led her back to the barn and down to where he’d stashed the lambs. He jerked his head toward the stall. Confusion flickered over her face, but she stepped up, rising to her toes to look over the stall door.

“Baaa!”

Some of the coldness melted out of Charlotte’s face. “Oh, they’re darlin’.”

“They’re yours.”

She froze, still on her tiptoes. “I’m sorry, what?”

He shifted, wishing this was over already. “You like animals. I thought you’d enjoy them.”

“You bought me sheep?”

“Aye.” Malcolm realized she was staring at him as if he’d just announced he’d rented a flat on Mars. Christ, he was an eejit. “If you don’t want them, that’s fine. We can just make them a part of the regular herd. It was a foolish idea. I just I saw them, and they made me think of you, and I wanted to do something to say that I’m sorry.” Shut up, man.

She studied him. “Most people would just say I’m sorry.”

“I’m not great with words.”

“I’m getting that sense.” There was no malice in her tone, but he realized she was going to make him spell it out. And she deserved that.

The muscles between his shoulders tensed. “I couldnae remember last night when I woke up. I still dinna remember a lot of it, but I know I made accusations that were wrong and unpardonably cruel. I’m a surly bastard, and I know it. But I try not to be deliberately hateful. I’m sorry.”

When was the last time he’d strung this many words together at once?

Charlotte said nothing for so long, he was certain she was calculating the best way of throwing his apology back in his face. He wouldn’t have blamed her.

Instead, she opened the latch on the stall and slipped inside, dropping to her butt in the hay. The lambs immediately began to vie for space in her lap, butting for attention. And there was that laugh and the smile he’d reluctantly come to look for every day.

“They’re Valais black nose sheep. A Swiss breed. Generally sweet-tempered. I’m told they often behave more like dogs than sheep. I thought, with how much you love Mabel, that they’d suit you.”

She cuddled the three of them, eyeing him with an expression he couldn’t read. “Well, I suppose as apologies go, this one will do. What are their names?”

The massive tension he’d been carrying around all day released. Malcolm did his best not to show it as he braced his arms atop the stall door and watched them. “That’s up to you. They’re all female.”

“How about Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup?”

His throat went thick. This woman. After the abominable way he’d treated her, she’d think to name her lambs after his daughter’s favorite characters?

When he said nothing, Charlotte’s face softened. “If that’s too painful, I can go with something else. Charlie’s Angels, maybe.”

He shook his head. “No. Miranda would’ve liked that.” His voice went to a rasp. “Thank you.”

“You realize you’re going to have to teach me how to care for them? I’ve spent a huge chunk of my life on a ranch, but Rosewood ran cattle, not sheep.”

“Aye, I can do that.”

And as the feeling of truce settled between them, he considered that he didn’t hate the idea of spending more time with her.

Maybe the triplets hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.