Chapter 10
“What’s that supposed to be?”
Malcolm eyed the snarl of bright red yarn in Charlotte’s lap and decided Gavin was a braver soul than he for asking.
“Well, if it comes out the way it’s supposed to, it will be a sweater.” She held up a picture of something that was definitely a jumper, then frowned down at the mess. “I think I’ve missed a step somewhere.”
The misshapen thing looked like the bastard child of Red Riding Hood and Cthulhu. No matter who she intended the thing for, there wasn’t a chance in hell it would fit. Not that Malcolm would dare to point that out. Knitting was the third hobby Charlotte had tried out in the past month. The watercolor landscapes had been more Picasso than Monet. The needle felted replicas of the triplets hadn’t turned out any better, and her spare bedroom was turning into a graveyard of abandoned supplies.
Gavin considered the lump. “Maybe you should have started with a scarf. Baby steps, aye?”
With a mock scowl, she tossed a ball of yarn at his head with surprisingly good aim, startling a laugh out of the lad when it bounced off his brow. Malcolm didn’t think he’d ever tire of that laugh.
Charlotte shoved the lot of it back into the bag she’d brought. “Where can I find a turkey to cook?”
“A turkey?” Malcolm blinked at the non sequitur. “Why?”
“Because Thanksgiving’s coming up. I know that’s not really a thing over here, but Raleigh and I always celebrate. I make his mama’s cornbread dressin’ and sweet potato casserole, and at least two kinds of pie, and we talk about everything we’re thankful for. It’s kind of like a formalized gratitude practice with food, and since I’ve got a great many things to be thankful for, I figured I’d drag everybody else in, too.”
In all seriousness, Gavin raised his hand. “I dinna ken what half of that stuff is, but I volunteer as tribute to eat all of it.”
She ruffled his hair. “Always thinking with your stomach.”
“It’s a wise man who does anything he can to get more of your cooking.”
“Flatterer.” Beaming, she blew him a kiss, then turned her gaze on Malcolm. “What about you?”
“I agree with the lad about your cooking, so I’ll do what I can to help you find a turkey.” And they did have a lot to be grateful for.
Over the past few weeks, Hamish had managed discrete inquiries in Duntyre and discovered that Gavin’s school had contacted Simon about his son’s lack of attendance and been told he’d gone to live with his mother. The mother Hamish had already confirmed formally relinquished her parental rights when she left five years before. Malcolm couldn’t imagine doing that to a child. At least he’d had the illusion that his own mum might come back. Either way, they were in a holding pattern, with Hamish working on the best means of handling the situation, while still keeping it out of the system. He’d advised them that the only way that really worked was if Simon signed over his parental rights, which would inevitably lead to some kind of confrontation. Malcolm didn’t know how that would go, and he was braced for a fight. Hamish was working on building the case to convince Simon it was in his best interest to comply. But for right now, the important thing was that no one was looking for Gavin and the boy was starting to feel safe. That was worth a hell of a lot.
Charlotte cuddled up against him. That was something else Malcolm was thankful for. He’d never in his life imagined himself as a snuggler. Robyn hadn’t been this physically affectionate. No one in his life had. But Charlotte expressed affection through touch. Hugs. A hand on the arm. Linking fingers. And Malcolm found that he liked it. The warmth of her was grounding in a way he hadn’t expected and definitely hadn’t known he’d needed. Maybe some of it was that he was starved for physical touch after his years of solitude. Or maybe it was just her. Either way, it had become their new habit to settle on the sofa together after dinner, while Gavin sprawled in the chair, and they all watched an episode of something or other on TV. It had taken Malcolm a little time to get used to the arrangement, as he still felt weird performing any kind of PDA in front of the lad.
They hadn’t hidden the change in their relationship from him, but they’d necessarily been taking things at a snail’s pace. Malcolm had to admit—to himself, at least—that was probably a good thing. As much as he wanted Charlotte, he was afraid of screwing it up. It wasn’t like he was a good bet. He’d deliberately shuttered his heart years ago and held everyone at arm’s length.
The last person he’d allowed himself to care for was Afton. It had been six months since she’d left, and still no word. He hoped she was safe and happy, doing well wherever she’d landed in the world. On some level, he understood that she’d done what she felt she had to, in order to get out of a ridiculous situation. But it still hurt that she hadn’t talked to him about it, and hadn’t reached out since the pact was resolved. Maybe he’d cared more than she did. Or maybe it was that she hadn’t known how much he cared, because he’d let himself become so closed off, only ever showing so much.
As he wrapped his arm tighter around Charlotte and glanced over at the boy who’d helped drag him back into the land of the living, he vowed that he’d do better with them. For them. Even if it took baby steps. The truth was, he was feeling for the first time in years, and it was absolutely terrifying. With the two of them, he’d found his way to contentment, and that was a pretty amazing thing. But on the heels of that was always the fear that he’d lose it.
She nestled closer, her hand settling on his knee, fingers tracing lazy patterns there as she watched the screen. It was all too easy to imagine her trailing that hand higher, up the inside of his thigh, to wrap around his cock. His body stirred, and he promptly slammed a mental door on that fantasy, giving her arm a gentle pinch until she glanced up. Her face was set in innocent lines, but her eyes told a different story. Those dark liquid pools were impish and full of banked heat. Malcolm scowled at her, which only made her grin. But she stopped playing with his knee.
As the show wrapped, Malcolm glanced at the clock. “Time to get ready for bed. Early start in the morning. I’m gonna walk Charlotte home.” Which he’d been doing every night, simply for the chance to kiss her, since he felt weird doing it in front of the kid.
Gavin rolled out of the chair and smirked. Yeah, he knew. And clearly, he thought the pair of them were the funniest thing ever.
Whatever. Malcolm wasn’t quite ready to break out of the headspace of taking things slowly in front of him.
Charlotte rose and pulled him in for a hug and a smacking kiss on the cheek. “Good night, sweet boy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Night, Charlotte.” With a salute and another smirk, he headed upstairs.
She gathered her knitting bag, and Malcolm walked her next door. As they stepped inside, she turned to him. “We’re not fooling him.”
He shut the door and backed her against it. “I’m not trying to. Call me old-fashioned, but I definitely dinna want to do any of the things I’d like to do to you in front of him.”
On that note, he took her mouth as he’d wanted all day, drinking in that little gasp of pleasure as she rose to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. The erection he’d managed to will away sprang instantly to life, demanding attention. Charlotte hummed, pressing closer, making his vision go white behind his eyes for a few moments as she rubbed against him. Malcolm struggled to rein it in, to find some control.
She nipped at his bottom lip. “Malcolm, I appreciate your desire not to emotionally scar the child, but it’s just a little mean of you to keep riling me up like this and walking away, leaving me to relieve my own suffering.”
Well, fuck. Now he was thinking about her pleasuring herself while thinking of him. That didn’t do a damned thing to help the situation.
“I want to take my time with you,” he growled. “Because that’s what you deserve.”
Her fingers dove into his hair, tugging a little as she urged him to look at her. “I appreciate that, and I sure as hell look forward to it, but please, for the love of God, help me take the edge off. You have no idea how long it’s been.”
He’d never claimed to be a noble man, and he wanted to see her eyes go blind with passion, wanted to see that beautiful face flush as she came apart.
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” His hands gripped her hips, lifting her up until she could wrap her legs around his waist. Then he pressed her against the door again, his cock nestled between her legs.
Charlotte sighed. “Oh, yes. Please.”
He trailed his lips along the column of her throat. “I like it when you say please.”
“I like everything about what you’re doing.”
She felt fucking fantastic, writhing against him, and he tried not to think about how easy it would be to strip off her jeans, flip up his kilt, and slide into her. He was not going to take her against a door their first time. But he was confident he could leave her satisfied before he walked out, and give himself more fodder for the shower later.
Surging against her, he slipped his hands beneath her sweater, up her torso to cup her magnificent breasts. They were full and heavy in his hands, the nipples pulled to taut nubs he desperately wanted to taste. But she was busy devouring his mouth, rocking against him with a breathy little whimper that told him she was already close. He rolled her nipples, loving the moan it wrenched from her, and how she seemed to be trying to press against him everywhere at once. She was one big bundle of arousal, and that was basically the hottest thing ever. He swiveled his hips harder against her center, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, following the rhythm of her rocking until she locked her legs around him and groaned long and low into his mouth.
With vicious satisfaction, Malcolm held her through her shuddering release and after, until she laid her head limply on his shoulder.
“Well, I’d say that qualifies as dulling the edge.”
“Good.” He kissed her again, gently this time, and let her slide down his body.
She eyed the erection tenting the front of his kilt. “Seems I ought to do the same.”
But before she could get her hands on him, he twisted his hips away. “No. That was for you. I’ll take care of that in the shower.”
Charlotte’s lips, full and rosy from his, rolled out in a pout. “You’re taking the shower over me?”
“If you get your hands on me, I won’t be walking out this door, and I sure as fuck won’t be quiet about it. We may not be fooling Gavin about anything, but that’s a line I dinna want to cross while he’s within earshot.”
As fresh heat flared in her eyes, she dropped her hands. “Fair enough. But just so you know, I’m going to need more than that preview in the very near future.”
Gripping her by the nape, he hauled her in for one more fierce kiss. “Noted. Good night, Charlotte.”
“Good night.”
And with one last glance at her satisfied glow, he stepped outside and shut the door.
* * *
Charlotte’s headwas not on the task at hand, which was a problem, considering that task was painting the walls of the next cottage. They were already behind schedule, so the last thing they needed was some kind of accident with the paint damaging the floors or splashing onto the cabinets. But how could she think about decorating after the phone call she’d had from Hamish right before coming out here? Especially with the subject of that phone call quietly dipping a roller into a paint tray and smoothly spreading a pale fawn shade onto the wall across the room. A fight was coming, and soon.
She wished Malcolm was here to discuss this with. But he was off handling estate business with some tenants, so she was left with the frantic hamster wheel of her own thoughts and a far-too-perceptive teenage boy she wanted to protect at all costs.
“Earth to Charlotte.”
“Hmm?” Gavin was staring at her in a way that suggested this wasn’t the first time he’d called her name. “I’m sorry, baby. My head’s somewhere else today.”
“You’re worried.” He didn’t pose it as a question.
“What makes you say that?”
“You’ve got that scrunch between your eyebrows.”
A poker player, she was not.
“It’s about me, isn’t it?” Absently, he reloaded the roller. “I know I can’t just stay with you like this forever.”
This kid.
She and Malcolm hadn’t talked too much about the future with Gavin because they hadn’t wanted to worry him until there was something concrete to share. But it was obvious the boy was worried, and she wanted to be honest with him. The truth likely wasn’t as terrifying as whatever he’d make up in his head while waiting for her to talk things over with Malcolm first.
She held out a hand. “Come sit with me.”
Pleased when he took it without hesitation, she flipped over a couple of 5-gallon buckets and gestured to their makeshift seats. Knowing the importance of getting this right, she faced him, knee to knee, keeping his hand in hers as she openly met his gaze.
“So, you know we contacted our attorney friend, Hamish Colquhoun, about what we needed to do so you’ll be protected.”
Gavin nodded, his eyes already shuttering in preparation for the worst-case scenario.
After the openness they’d fostered this past month, seeing that regression, that automatic expectation of disappointment, absolutely broke her heart.
“That was essential from the front end, whether you decided you wanted to stay or not. We wanted to make sure no one would make you go back to your father. Part of that has involved Hamish gathering character witnesses against him. Proof that he’s not been good to you or for you. That’s taken some time, because he’s trying to be as discrete as possible to avoid tipping off anybody to where you are. Not only your dad, but also social services. We’re doing everything in our power to avoid involving the authorities because, once we do, we lose control of the situation.”
“They’ll take me away.” It wasn’t a question. The grim set of his jaw told her he understood the gravity of the situation.
Charlotte nodded. “Neither Malcolm nor I are certified foster parents, so they couldn’t legally leave you with us. And there are some other potentially thorny issues for me because I’m not a citizen of the UK. I’m only here on a work visa. That’s something that could change eventually, but, again, it takes time. So far, none of that is a problem, and we hope it’ll stay that way.”
“But?”
Of course, the kid would recognize the ‘but’ she wasn’t saying.
Charlotte tightened her hold on his hand. “Malcolm and I have wanted you to stay from the beginning. We like having you around. You’re good company, a good worker, and you’ve become a valuable member of our weird little unconventional family. Before we get into the rest of this, I need to ask you an important question.”
Wariness crept into his expression. “Okay.”
“Do you want to stay with us? He and I feel like things have gone really well the past month. But none of that matters if you’d rather go somewhere else. And it’s your choice. We’ll fight as hard as we can to make sure that it’s your choice.” She hoped like hell circumstances didn’t turn her into a liar.
“I dinna want to leave.”
A tension around her heart loosened a little. “Even though you’re totally going to have to start school in January if you stay?”
A flicker of amusement twitched his lips. “Aye, even so. I like it here. I like the triplets and Mabel and the other animals. And I like you and Malcolm.”
Blinking back the gathering tears, Charlotte kept her tone matter-of-fact. “Okay. Then we’ll do whatever we have to so you can stay. At the end of the day, your father has to give up his rights to you as a parent—either because a court takes them away after determining he’s unfit, or by signing them directly away to someone else, who can apply as your legal guardian or guardians. The second route is the easiest, and that’s what we’re hoping for.”
“Easy?” Gavin stared at her. “You think he’s going to make it easy? He’ll be like a dog wi’ a bone. He disnae care about me, but he disnae want anyone else to either. He willnae agree to that.”
“Not if we just walked up to him and asked, no. But we’re smarter than that. All those character witnesses Hamish is getting statements from… he’s not just pulling those together to give to social services. He’s essentially building a case for your father. To pressure him into believing that he’s going to get into serious trouble for everything he’s done to you when we turn all that information over to the authorities—unless he gives permission for guardianship to us.”
And that was the crux of what agitated that hamster in her brain—because becoming legal guardians of Gavin would constitute a serious commitment. A life-changing commitment. Not only to him, but between her and Malcolm. Certainly, things between them had been going well. But in a huge sense, the past month had been a honeymoon period for their strange little found family. If things went off the rails for their relationship, would they be able to successfully co-parent in a way that wasn’t damaging to Gavin?
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. No doubt the authorities would get involved. Malcolm and I can certainly take whatever steps would be necessary to get whatever certifications we needed to keep you legally, and we’ve got a lot of people willing to be character references for us on the good side.”
“But you said there was that thing about you only being here on a work visa. What if they won’t let you because of that?”
“That’s more stuff I don’t know yet.”
“What if you had something that overrode a work visa?”
“I don’t know what that would be.”
“You and Malcolm could get married.”
Charlotte nearly choked on her own spit. Yes, she cared for Malcolm. She was sure as hell attracted to him. She was enjoying this dance they were doing, working their way toward something more serious. And certainly, she trusted him enough that they’d essentially adopted a child together. But marriage?
“That’s kind of getting ahead of things, kiddo.”
“Is it? You like each other. More than like each other.”
“We do, but?—”
“Is it me? Because I’m a cock blocker?”
She felt light-headed as all the blood drained out of her face, then rushed back in furious embarrassment. “First off, let’s not use that term, okay? Second, things between Malcolm and me are complicated. We’re taking our time exploring this new dynamic.” And if they were taking more time than she really wanted because of their little teenage chaperone, that definitely wasn’t something she was admitting to said chaperone out loud.
“Well, it’s no’ like you can easily date while you’re both babysitting me.”
“Dating isn’t our first priority, right now. You are.”
“Which I appreciate. But you deserve some alone time for… whatever.”
Charlotte absolutely could not cope with the idea of this kid thinking about her and Malcolm whatevering.
“Anyway, Raleigh invited me over for the night for a Star Wars movie marathon. He says I haven’t been properly educated until I’ve seen the original trilogy. We’ll be staying in, so I’m safe, and you and Malcolm can go out. Like on a date.”
Her already overworked brain ground to a halt. “Wait, have you talked to Raleigh about me and Malcolm?”
The boy blinked at her. “Was I not supposed to?”
They hadn’t announced the change of their relationship to anyone else. They hadn’t talked about it or defined it other than between each other. She couldn’t quite decide how she felt about the man who was basically her son knowing she was involved with anyone. Let alone his estate manager. It wasn’t as if she were embarrassed, but the whole thing was so very new, and had been complicated almost from the beginning by the presence of Gavin.
Woman up, cupcake.
“No, baby, it’s fine. It’s just a little awkward because I haven’t dated anybody in a really long time.”
“Well, now I’m taken care of for the night, so you can start.”
“Well, okay then.”