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

Epilogue

Thanksgiving was Malcolm’s new favorite holiday, even if they’d technically missed the actual day. The long table in the manor house dining room was groaning beneath the weight of all the food. Because cooking was what Charlotte did. To celebrate. To work off stress. To show love. As he benefitted immensely from this particular tendency, he wasn’t about to complain. Added to which, he had so very much to be grateful for.

The center of it all was brandishing a wooden spoon when he stepped into the kitchen to see if they’d gotten all the dishes.

“Gavin Elmore, those rolls are for the table!”

Grinning, the lad ducked out of reach, tucking the breadbasket under his arm like a rugby ball. “Elmore?”

“Well, I don’t actually know your middle name to properly middle name you, so I made one up on the spot,” Charlotte admitted.

“It’s Christopher.”

Malcolm hooked him around the neck, drawing him in for a hug. “Maybe it’s a good thing she didn’t name you from birth.”

Her cute little nose wrinkled in a snit. “I didn’t say that’s what I’d have picked.”

Raleigh swung into the room. “Don’t feel bad. She’s always known my middle name, and she still liked to pull out weird ones when calling me out for stuff. I’ll never forget Raleigh Louise.”

She fixed him with a Mom glare. “You are not too old for me to whack with this spoon.”

He just laughed and pulled her in for a smacking kiss on the cheek. “I love you, Charlotte.”

She squeezed him back. “Okay, okay. All of you out. I just need to grab the gravy and we can eat.”

Malcolm waited for all of them to exit before cornering her across from the stove.

“What? Did I forget something?” He could see the details of the meal scrolling through her brain again.

“No. I just needed to kiss the cook.” Bending his head, he caught her mouth in a sweet, lingering kiss that had her melting against him.

“Mmm. Dessert first. No complaints here.” She dropped back to her feet, eyes clearing. “Oh, damn it. I got potatoes on your shirt from my spoon!”

He chuckled. “Worth it.”

She wouldn’t let him leave the room until she’d dabbed at the stain.

Conversation was flying fast and furious around the table by the time they joined the others. Raleigh was at the head on one end. Charlotte took her position anchoring the other, and Malcolm sat beside her, across from Gavin. Everybody quieted as Raleigh tapped his water glass.

“Okay, Charlotte, this is your shindig. How do you want to do it?”

With an incline of her head, Charlotte accepted the role of hostess. “There are a lot more of us here tonight than you and I have had in a long time, and I already see you eyeing those sweet potatoes, so I’ll keep this brief. Thanksgiving has always been an important holiday for Raleigh and me. In those first few years after his mama died, we had to work hard to find things to be thankful for because we missed her so much. But I knew it was something important to Lily, so I put in the effort as a way of honoring and remembering her. Over time, it’s gotten easier. And though we are a very long way from Texas, and there have been so many changes, I felt especially called to celebrate this year. So, how we usually do this is to go around the table and take a few moments to say something we’re thankful for and toast it. However much or little that may be.”

She picked up her glass. “I’ll start. First and foremost, I am grateful, as always, for my boy, Raleigh, for always treating me as family. For giving me this new home and the chance to build a new life. That new life has brought so many wonderful people into my world, including an entirely unexpected romance and a second son.” Her eyes glittered as she smiled at him and Gavin, in turn. “I am especially thankful for Hamish, who went above and beyond to see that we can legally keep Gavin, and I’m thrilled to report that we’ll be starting the formal process to make that permanent next week. Cheers!”

Answering cheers rang out around the table.

Gavin lifted his glass. “I’m thankful I got caught. I never dreamed I’d end up with amazing parents out of the deal.” Ears turning pink, he shrugged. “Cheers.”

Sophie went next. “I’m grateful for the exceptional success Kyla and I have had with our event planning business. It’s been a whirlwind of a year, but I couldn’t be more pleased. Cheers!”

Connor cleared his throat. “I’m thankful Afton made the hard choice to save us both, and that she managed to choose someone who was my sister’s perfect match. You’ve been a hell of an addition to our lives, and I’m pleased to call you family. Cheers!”

“Aw hell, man, you’re gonna make me all emotional.” Raleigh wet his throat and continued. “Obviously, I’m thankful for the same. For the extraordinary woman I married and the incredible people and place we live in. The truth is, since I got here, I’ve faced all kinds of difficult decisions, having to dive in and learn things from the ground up in a way that was, frankly, intimidating. I’ve been able to get through that, in part, because of the support of my wife, but also because of you, Malcolm. Because you’ve been here from the beginning. Even when you didn’t know quite what to make of me and my new ownership of Lochmara, you taught me so much. For a while now, I’ve been looking for an appropriate way to thank you, and I think I’ve finally hit on the right one.”

Uncomfortable with the praise and attention, Malcolm shifted in his seat. “Thanks aren’t necessary. It was my job.”

“We can agree to disagree on that. If this doesn’t work for you, we’ll come up with something else. But I think this will be up your alley. First up, I want to give you a stake in the estate. You’ve dedicated the better part of your life to this place, and you deserve some ownership. Hamish has already done up the paperwork. Second?—”

“Second?” Malcolm choked out. There was more?

“—with the permanent addition of Gavin to the family, the three of y’all are gonna need a bigger place. Somewhere y’all can all truly live under the same roof, while you’re building your new lives together. There’s a house out close to the loch. As most of them, it needs some work, and I’m happy to donate money, time, and effort to help get it up to Charlotte’s standards. But with two stories and three bedrooms, I thought, if it suited all of you, it would make a fitting thank you from me to you, Malcolm, for all of your help and dedication to the estate, and to you, Charlotte, for being my second mom, and now Gavin’s.”

Malcolm’s throat went tight with emotion. For all his gratitude to Peter Lennox, he’d never ever thought to have a stake in this place.

Beside him, Charlotte promptly burst into an ugly cry, all those big emotions spilling out. He reached over to clasp her hand, but kept his focus on Raleigh.

“I hardly ken what to say. This is… beyond generous. I know the house you speak of. It’ll probably take a few months of work, while we’re continuing on with all the other cottage rehab, but I know it’ll be a good home in the end.” He looked at Charlotte, tears streaming down her cheeks, into the curve of her smile. “One thing I’ve learned about Charlotte is that making a home is her superpower. Whether you think you need it or not.”

A laugh interrupted the tears. “You needed it.”

“Aye, I did. And I need you. So what do you say? Do you want to move in with me?” He glanced at Gavin and quirked a smile. “With us?”

She shoved out of her chair and moved to frame his face, beaming at him. “Yes, I absolutely do.” Then she kissed him, to the cheers of everyone.

What a difference a couple of months had made. But as he wrapped his arms around the woman he loved, he knew it wasn’t the time. It was the people. It was his people. His unconventional little family. He had no idea what he’d done to get this lucky, to earn this chance again. But he knew he sure as hell wasn’t going to waste it.

* * *

Connor could hearthe thump of music from the club from where he stood on the sidewalk in the frigid December air. It felt strange to be here, after so many months away. Once upon a time, he would’ve been down here in Edinburgh on the regular, seeking out female companionship. But life had been more than a little chaotic since he’d been freed from the marriage pact. Since Kyla married Raleigh. Since he himself found out about the debt hanging over the estate.

Now that the axe of the balloon payment on their biggest loan was no longer hanging over their necks, and now that he was no longer being coerced by duty to marry someone he didn’t love, he figured it was time to get back on the horse, so to speak. New Year’s Eve had seemed the ideal time. New Year. New Him. An opportunity to start over.

Hamish was meant to meet him here, to play wingman. Since his best mate had married more than ten years ago, they’d engaged in this particular bonding ritual less and less often. In truth, he was more excited by the idea of hanging out with his friend than finding someone to warm his bed for the night. Though Hamish had lived in Edinburgh for years now, Connor still missed him. He came home to Glenlaig as often as he could, but Connor knew that caused friction at home with his wife, who was city through and through. So he’d enjoy the night for whatever it brought.

But where the hell was Hamish? Connor hadn’t seen his sedan in the car park. Maybe he’d taken public transit to avoid driving and was already waiting inside.

Pulling out his phone to text him, he realized he’d missed some texts.

Hamish: Bad news. Freya is sick, and Dayna had some sort of hobnobbing business party she had to attend for work tonight. Can’t find a sitter this late in the game. I won’t be able to make it.

He followed it up with a GIF of Joey from Friends sticking his head through a door saying, “Very, VERY sorry.”

Well, damn.

He sent back a GIF of JD and Turk from Scrubs having a bromance cuddle.

Connor: Of course, it’s fine. I hope wee Freya feels better. Send her love from Uncle Connor.

Hamish wrote back immediately. Will do. She’s got the narwhal plushie you gave her and is finally sleeping.

Connor: Not the New Year’s Eve you were hoping for.

Hamish: No. But you make the most of it, aye? You deserve some fun.

Connor took a selfie of himself saluting, then slid the phone back into his pocket and eyed the front door of the club where a steady stream of people had been walking in.

He’d done this for years, determined to experience as much freedom and fun as possible before the cell door of an arranged marriage clanged shut and put an end to it. But he found that, without that desperation driving him, the idea of going on the prowl simply didn’t have the appeal it used to.

Yet he’d come all this way. He might as well have one drink before he left.

The pulse of the music had him tapping his fingers against his leg as he wove his way through the crowd toward the bar. Everywhere around him, people were dancing and laughing, full of revelry. Normally, that would’ve energized him. Tonight, it made him twitchy. The press of bodies felt claustrophobic. He longed for the peace of his forge. Creating function and beauty with fire and brawn satisfied him in a way nothing else ever had. Maybe over these past months of secret, desperate work, he’d purged something.

Finally making it to the bar, he ordered a whisky, then leaned against the wood to wait.

Hands covered his eyes. “Guess who?”

The American accent with a Southern lilt had him flipping through his mental files, wondering who the hell this was. He lifted his hands, curling them around pale, slim fingers, and turned. The sight of her smiling face had a name flashing in his memory banks.

“Swayze Parish.”

Her impish smile widened as she pulled him in for a hug. He returned the embrace, trying to remember exactly when he’d last seen her. She’d been on one of his tours a year, maybe year-and-a-half ago, and, at the end of it, they’d shared a delightful weekend on the west coast before both moving on. They’d corresponded a bit, and he’d followed her rise as a social media influencer, more out of curiosity and a desire to learn her methods than because he hadn’t been able to let go.

“Connor MacKean,” she drawled. “How the hell are you? Are you in town doing a tour?”

“No, not tonight. What about you?”

“Well, you know how much I loved Scotland the last time I was here, so I couldn’t stay away. A friend of mine’s getting married and looking to do a destination wedding, so I’m helping scout locations.”

“Really? If the Highlands are on the list, my sister has an event planning business. We do weddings on our home estate. Complete with a six-hundred-year-old castle.” Might as well put in a plug for the business. Swayze had the reach to really put Ardinmuir on the map for destination weddings.

“I will absolutely add it to the list. Do y’all have a website?”

He reeled it off as the bartender slid over his whisky. “So you’ve been doing well for yourself. All those sponsorships.”

Pleasure lit her pretty features. “I’m surprised you knew. You haven’t responded to my DMs in a long time.”

A frisson of guilt tried to worm its way into his brain, but Connor refused to let it. He’d made the parameters of their weekend very clear, and then let their connection die what he thought was a natural death.

“My world’s been pretty crazy. My sister got married, and my uncle had a heart attack.”

“Oh no! Is he all right?”

“He is now. But it was a long recovery. That’s part of why I’m in the city tonight. I’m free of nursemaid duties for a bit.”

Swayze’s smile turned flirty, and she trailed a finger along his arm. “You know, I had planned to look you up on this trip. You said if I ever came back through this way…”

He had said that.

It was crystal clear she’d happily go for a repeat of the time they’d spent together. She was fun, attractive. They’d been good in bed. She could be his entertainment for the night.

He opened his mouth to suggest it. “I’m really flattered, and I appreciate the offer, but I’m engaged.”

Wait. What? Where the hell had that come from? It had been the fallback from before, on the rare occasions he ran into one of his former partners. And it had been the truth, of a sort. He had been supposed to marry Afton. But now?

Swayze blinked. “Engaged? I didn’t think you were the settling down type.”

Since he’d already started down the path with this lie, he might as well follow it through. “Aye, well, it’s taken us years to work our way down to this point. We’ve been sort of dancing around each other since we were young.”

“Well, I won’t say I’m not disappointed, but I’m also not surprised. You’re a great guy, Connor. I hope you and—” She was clearly waiting for a name.

“Sophie.” It was the first thing to pop into his head.

“I hope you and Sophie will be very happy together.” She lifted her own drink in a toast. “It was good to see you again, Connor.”

Then she disappeared into the crowd.

Well, clearly, he wasn’t in the mood to go on the prowl. He could just imagine how prim, proper Sophie Cameron would react to being cast in the role of his fiancée. She’d fall right down to the floor, laughing until she couldn’t breathe. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d laughed at his expense. With all the burdens she’d carried over the years, he’d been more than willing to put his own ego up as a target just to wrangle a smile out of her.

But she wouldn’t find out about this one.

As Connor sipped his whisky, he automatically scanned the club. A couple dozen feet away, on the dance floor, he spotted another familiar face. His sister’s ex, David Murray. Double the reason to get the hell out of here. He’d never had much fondness for the guy and was grateful Kyla had ended up with Raleigh. A woman moved into David’s embrace, twining her arms around his neck as they swayed to the music. He pulled her in for a kiss.

Okay then. Apparently, he was getting out there again. Good for him.

As the kiss went on, Connor arched a brow. He saw more passion on that dance floor than he’d ever seen this guy show Kyla. So maybe he’d finally found someone better suited.

Connor drained the last of his whisky, slapping the glass on the bar and turning to go as David and his date pulled apart, circling to the beat of the new, faster song. Light flashed, illuminating her face, and Connor froze.

Because it was Dayna.

Dayna Colquhoun.

His best friend’s wife.

Choose Your Next Romance

Dun dun duh!I know. I know! You didn’t see that coming (at least I hope you didn’t). But obviously, if you’ve been with me from Jilting The Kilt, Hamish has to be single by the time his book rolls around and that takes time. So hold the tomatoes and don’t get mad that they’re Book 5. PATIENCE, DEAR READER!

Meanwhile, clearly Connor and Sophie are up next, and I can’t wait for you to fall in love with Playboy in a Kilt. Or if this is your first introduction to Kilted Hearts, please check out the beginning of the series with the prequel Jilting The Kilt and Raleigh and Kyla’s story in Cowboy in a Kilt.

And if you haven’t gotten enough of Malcolm and Charlotte, check out their bonus epilogue here: https://books.bookfunnel.com/a-little-lagniappe/h3jqn3z30h