Chapter 32
Thirty-Two
WALKER
The lone bagpiper was in full Highland dress, in kilt and piper’s plaid and all, while he played “Flower of Scotland” on his pipes.
A crowd had gathered around him on the corner of Princes Street and Waverley Bridge.
Princes Street Gardens plummeted behind him in a sprawl of faded greens and rusted autumn leaves, while Edinburgh Castle rose over the city beyond that.
Callie bobbed on her feet between me and Sloane.
“I can’t see!” she complained over the mournful sound.
Sloane ducked her head this way and that, trying to find a way closer to the piper, but he was surrounded.
It was one of those days. Some days, the lone piper was passed by, people too busy with their lives to stop and listen other than to throw a coin his way.
Other days, the tourists descended around him like a barrier.
I lowered to my haunches, and Callie turned to me. “Want up?” I patted my shoulders. Perhaps ten was too old to be put on my shoulders, but Callie didn’t seem to think so. She nodded eagerly, and I realized she’d probably never received the fatherly offer before.
Another reason to hate Andros. I helped her climb up. Holding her light weight securely, I raised to my feet, and I heard her giggle with excitement. “I can see everything up here!”
People in front of us turned to smile at her, and I glanced at Sloane.
A hard lump formed in my throat at the utter adoration in her eyes.
Fuck, I’d give anything to make her look at me like that for the rest of our lives.
I was in trouble.
Brodan had ripped the piss out of me days before because he, too, knew I was in trouble. He knew because he’d been where I was only months ago.
A week.
It had just been a week since Sloane and I made it official. Dating seemed like too tame a word. Like something teenagers did. It wasn’t an easy transition. It chafed a wee bit. Not enough to make me turn back on my word to give it a shot.
And the fear was worth it to have her look at me like that.
Callie rested her hands on my head, and my lips twitched as her wee fingers unconsciously curled into my hair as the pipes swelled.
Another glance at Sloane, and I noted the pipe’s song had captivated her too.
People either loved or hated the bagpipes.
I was in the former camp. It was hard to explain, but rarely anything made me feel more patriotic than those damn mournful wails.
Seeing and feeling Sloane’s and Callie’s emotion as they listened filled me with pride.
Seeing them enjoy anything was worth everything.
Including journeying south with them to Edinburgh for the weekend.
Sloane had taken some persuading since the trip was my treat, but I felt they needed a change of scenery.
Unable to let go of the feeling that the threat toward them wasn’t over, I hadn’t eased up on their protection.
Andros wasn’t talking. He’d refused, which meant I had no other insight into his motives other than what he’d told Sloane.
But it felt like I was missing a piece of the puzzle, and even with Andros behind bars, I wasn’t ready to let my guard down.
This was my compromise. Showing them a bit of Scotland they hadn’t seen before. And for Callie’s sake, Sloane had agreed to the trip.
When the piper finished, Sloane waited her turn to drop some coins on our behalf at his feet. I patted Callie’s leg. “You want to stay up there?”
“Can I?” She grinned down at me.
Laughter rumbled in my chest. “Aye, why not.”
“Everything is so different up here, Mom. Walker is really tall.”
Sloane chuckled as she returned to our side and then her eyes widened ever so slightly at my hair.
“What?” I asked, suddenly worried.
She pressed her lips together like she was struggling not to laugh as she reached up to run her fingers through it. Fixing it, I realized. Her perfume tickled my senses as her breasts brushed against my arm and I forced myself not to think about last night.
We had adjoining rooms at the Scotsman Hotel, Callie and Sloane in one, me in the other.
But last night, once Callie was asleep, Sloane crept into my room.
I’d woken up to her hands and mouth on me, and we’d spent a couple of hours demonstrating how difficult it was to come hard without making a sound.
“Baby girl,” Sloane addressed Callie as she brushed her fingers down my cheek. “You can stay up there so long as you don’t hold on to Walker’s hair like a horse’s bridle.”
“Oops, sorry, Walker.” She didn’t sound sorry in the least.
I shared an amused glance with her mum and walked toward the gardens.
We’d arrived yesterday morning and visited Edinburgh Castle first because it was high on the to-do list. I’d then taken them on a walk up Calton Hill.
By that point, they were hungry and tired, so we found a wee burger place that came recommended and took Callie back to the hotel.
Today, the girls wanted to visit the newly opened Christmas market in the gardens.
It was always a bit of a crush, but we walked around the stalls for an hour or so.
Sloane and Callie picked up some trinkets for friends back home and I bought them a new Christmas bauble they loved for their tree.
The smell of churros was too much for Callie and we’d grabbed a few of those, Callie eating hers with hot chocolate while Sloane and I tried the mulled wine.
Once we’d seen the market, we spent some time walking around Old Town, stopping into every boutique on Cockburn and Victoria Street. Sloane commented on my patience, but I didn’t mind. My job for the last decade had been guarding wealthy people, and wealthy people liked to shop.
Sloane and Callie were enjoying themselves, and that was all that mattered.
Even if I was forced into a tam-o’-shanter hat with ginger hair attached to it so Sloane could take a photo of me and Callie who wore one too. If Callie hadn’t cackled so much at my expression in the photo, I’d have deleted it.
“We should probably grab lunch,” Sloane said at our side. “Where do you fancy, kid?”
“Let Walker pick. We’ve picked everything else.”
Sloane patted her daughter’s leg. “You’re right. Walker, where do you want to eat?”
“Wherever you want,” I answered easily.
“And how did I know that’s what you were going to say?” She threw me that sexy smile. “Callie?”
“There’s a Five Guys!” She gestured so excitedly, I had to grip her harder to my shoulders. “I didn’t know they had Five Guys in Scotland.”
“I guess we’re eating at Five Guys,” Sloane muttered dryly.
Callie insisted on staying up on my shoulders as we crossed Princes Street and headed up the slight slope of Frederick Street toward the fast-food place. Once inside, we placed our order and I told them to go find a table.
A few minutes later, I walked toward them with a tray laden with food I rarely ate and settled it down. I’d left them to collect napkins and condiments, and when I returned, I noted Sloane glowering at the table across from us while Callie kept her eyes on her mum.
I glanced at the table and saw it was a group of young guys, late teens by the looks of it. They were being loud.
Frowning, I turned back to Sloane. “What’s up?”
She still glared fiercely at the boys. “I’ll tell you later.”
I nodded and we ate, chatting about what else there was to see in Edinburgh. There wasn’t enough time to do everything, and I promised to bring them back.
“Like soon?” Callie asked, big-eyed.
Sloane grinned at her. “Probably not soon-soon. Christmas is less than a month away so we’re going to celebrate that first. Have you told Santa what you want yet?”
Before Callie could reply, there was an explosion of laughter from the table of guys, their voices rising. “Seriously, this bitch was the skankiest fuckin’ bitch ever. Ah was, like, ye want tae dae whit tae me?” One lad gesticulated with his food. “I told her she might as well fuck me up the arse!”
“Oi.” My voice cut sharply across the room, and the diners around us quietened. The boys shut up and looked over at us. “Do you mind? There are children here. Take that kind of conversation elsewhere.” I didn’t shout.
The lad who had been speaking lifted his chin. “Or whit? Whit ye gonna dae aboot it?”
I stared at him with everything I could do to him blazing in my eyes.
One of his friends hit him on the shoulder. “C’mon, Boyzie. Let’s just go.”
“I’d listen to your mate if I were you.”
“Aye, whitever.” He lifted his chin again, but the lads all got up, not bothering to clear their table, before they wandered out, strutting like they were wee hard men.
Conversation built into a murmur again as I turned to Callie. “So? Santa?”
I felt Sloane slide her hand across my thigh beneath the table and squeeze as Callie denounced the idea of Santa, but with shy excitement told her mum she’d like a pink electric scooter. Behind Sloane’s smile, I saw a flicker of worry and hated that everything was such a bloody struggle for her.
After lunch, as we waited outside the ladies’ restroom for Callie, Sloane leaned into me, casually sliding her hand into the back pocket of my jeans, her tits soft against my side. I bent my head toward her as she explained, “Those guys were being disgusting while you ordered the food too.”
I nodded in understanding but then tensed when she squeezed my ass before releasing me. I gazed down to find her looking at me, a hunger in her eyes.
“You just shut them up with barely a word. All you had to do was look at them a certain way, and it was over without getting out of hand,” she murmured.
“And?”
“It was seriously, seriously hot.” She bit her lip against a grin, and I couldn’t help but smile back.
Her eyes widened ever so slightly and then she blurted randomly, “Callie cares about you, Walker.”
I knew that and I cared about her too. “I wouldn’t be here with you both if I intended to walk away,” I promised. “I wouldn’t play with you or Callie like that.”
She nodded and took hold of my hand. “She asked me this morning if you were my boyfriend.”
My throat tightened slightly, and my voice was hoarse. “What did you say?”
Sloane smiled. “I told her you were. But really, you’re my man.” She nudged me playfully. “You’re too rugged and sexy to be my boyfriend.”
I let out a small huff of amusement. “I think you mean I’m too old.”
She turned more fully into me. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-eight.”
“Do you really think you’re too old for me?”
“Aye.” I reached out to stroke her cheek. “But I’m a selfish bastard, so that won’t stop me.”
“Good,” she whispered back.
Callie appeared out of the restroom, breaking the intense staring match between me and her mother. We strolled out into the frosty first day of December, Callie sandwiched between us. She took hold of her mum’s hand and then tentatively reached for mine.
At her slight hesitation, at the reminder she’d had no real paternal affection in her life, I ignored the fear that wouldn’t abate no matter how hard I tried, and I took her wee hand in mine.
Callie’s sweet smile cut through that fear, dimming it until eventually it washed away in certainty. Her happiness at walking hand in hand with her mum and me was what mattered. No one knew what the future would bring. But I could give this to Callie now.
I could give them both this.
Because I wanted it too.
Terrifying to admit, but it was the truth.
Callie, a reserved child with those she didn’t know, chattered incessantly as we walked along Princes Street. I was glad of it. Glad to see her father hadn’t traumatized her too badly all those weeks ago. Thank fuck children were so resilient.
“Oh!” The startled gasp drew my gaze from Callie to the woman we’d almost walked into. I drew to a stunned halt. My cheeks prickled, vaguely aware of people bumping into us and muttering their annoyance as they had to go around.
Callie’s wee fingers tightened on mine, but I couldn’t drag my eyes off the older woman, her face familiar, but changed.
My mother’s blue eyes, the same shade as my own, were wide. Her lips parted but then clamped together again.
Her gaze darted down to Callie and over to Sloane before returning to me.
When she said nothing, I gave her a brittle nod and guided Callie and Sloane around her.
I felt Sloane’s questioning gaze but stared straight ahead, not looking back.
Never looking back.
I only allowed myself to look back once a year, and the week for that was not this week.
“Who was that?” Sloane finally got up the courage to ask ten minutes later as a children’s jewelry section in a small boutique distracted Callie on the cobbled lane of Rose Street.
“No one,” I replied. If my tone wasn’t warning enough, I shot her a cool look before heading over to join Callie.
“Pick one,” I said, after observing her preoccupation with a stand of bracelets.
Callie’s eyes widened. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Go on,” I insisted.
Her joy over the bracelet was a slight distraction from my mum, whom I hadn’t seen in two decades. When I went to share a look of amusement with Sloane, I found her staring out of the shop window, expression contemplative. She worried her lip with her teeth.
Unease shifted through me when she finally looked at me, and I couldn’t read what was going on behind her unusually flat expression.
Then she sighed and shook her head with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You spoil her.”
I shrugged, trying to shrug off my disquiet. “She needs spoiling.”
Sloane nodded and gestured for Callie to follow her out of the shop. “Time to head back.”
We had a train to catch and then from there, the drive from Inverness to Ardnoch. Tension radiated between us, though, and I didn’t like it. I didn’t want to deal with it on top of the memory of my mother’s stunned face on Princes Street.
At the station, as we waited on the platform for the train to arrive, I stood behind Sloane and coasted my hand down her hip where Callie couldn’t see. I pressed a kiss to her temple.
And sighed a heavy inward sigh of relief when Sloane leaned back into me and caressed my hand with her own.