Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
LEWIS
THREE WEEKS LATER
It was a typical summer day in the Highlands.
Five minutes ago, my window wipers were going a mile a minute to keep up with the rain lashing the windscreen.
Now I had to pull my visor down as the sunshine blared through the break in the clouds.
My SUV rolled forward in slow-moving traffic, and I kept glancing at the digital clock on the dash.
Our appointment time was creeping worryingly closer.
“We’ll get there,” I reassured Callie.
“We’re fine.” She sounded much more laid-back than I was feeling.
The past few weeks had been a mixed bag of emotions.
First and foremost, I was relieved and over the bloody moon that Callie was giving us a real shot again.
We’d been on several more dates, none of which were on the list she’d sent me, but I planned to make those happen in the future.
I’d already booked us tickets to see a play in Edinburgh in a few weeks’ time so I could take her on date three and four in the same weekend. I hadn’t told her yet.
My offer on the house was accepted, and I’d invited Callie to see it before I finalized the offer.
I wanted to make sure she loved it. Of course, she more than loved it.
She thought it was spectacular and had already named it An Caisteal Beag.
The Wee Castle. Because of the moat. I finalized my offer, and the house would be mine in two weeks.
I was already looking into having its registered address name changed to An Caisteal Beag.
And I was very much already imagining Callie and I raising our child there.
I could picture sitting in the window box with our son or daughter, reading to them or watching the wildlife in the surrounding forest.
Slow, I reminded myself as I pulled into the car park at the hospital in Inverness. Everything else was going so fast, I had to resist the urge to pick up the pace on the rest.
The last few weeks had been rough for my Callie, and I wanted her to feel safe with me.
When I’d heard what Mrs. Rankin (a woman I barely even remembered but who seemed to think she was some kind of mouthpiece for the village) said at the bakery, I’d wanted to rail at her.
Her viciousness did catch and there were some others who turned their noses up at Callie if she entered their establishment or passed them on the street.
They were saying she’d trapped me and that’s why I’d come home.
Fucking misogynists.
I couldn’t stand for that. Our family and friends had rallied.
The Adairs had influence, and Mum had said loudly and clearly in Flora’s one day, “Well, Flora, if we thought Callie had ‘trapped’ Lewis, do you really think there would be such love and friendship between our families? We love Callie, and if I hear anyone say a bad word against her, they can expect a piece of my mind.”
It tempered some of the gossip. As did the fact that my family was attentive, and Callie couldn’t seem to go anywhere without one of them at her side.
Mum, Eilidh when she visited a few weeks back, Aunt Arro, Robyn, Ery, and Monroe.
Every single one of them made sure they were seen at Callie’s side.
Then an actor accused of breaking up the marriage of the director on her latest movie fled to Ardnoch and the paparazzi arrived in town.
As per usual, they were shut down by its residents and being here was pointless for them, but it got everyone talking about something else.
Things seemed to normalize for us, as much as they could.
Except Callie told me about her birth father’s lawyer calling and how her mum was dealing with it all.
She couldn’t help but worry about the possibility of Nathan getting parole.
The lawyer had tried calling again, but Sloane’s lawyer sent a cease and desist. We were waiting to see what happened next, and I hated her birth father for polluting this time for us.
As terrified as I was to be a dad, I got through it by focusing on the day-to-day. Big-picture thinking was still a bit overwhelming.
Once I’d parked and we paid the fee, I took Callie’s hand in mine, and we strolled toward the hospital entrance. Glancing down at her, I experienced a sense of rightness that calmed my nerves.
Sensing my stare, Callie looked up at me. “Are you okay?”
“Never better,” I promised her.
As we made our way through the hospital corridors to the antenatal clinic, a possessive thrill stirred in me.
Some latent caveman part of my DNA was illogically proud Callie was mine, and I’d shown it to the world by getting her pregnant.
Fucking idiot. Lost in my amusing (and never to be shared with Callie) thoughts, I barely noticed an older woman coming toward us.
But I definitely observed when she visibly startled at the sight of me and hunched in on herself, hurrying past us.
Callie glanced over her shoulder with a frown. “What the heck was that?”
“It happens,” I answered with a shrug that belied my true feelings.
See, it never occurred to me when I grew my hair out and got tattoos that a small contingency of the public would find me intimidating.
I was taller than my dad, as tall as my uncles Lachlan and Brodan.
They’d never complained of that kind of reaction, especially from women, but then they hadn’t grown out their hair, gotten a bunch of tattoos, or looked more suited to a motorcycle club than an architect’s firm.
I didn’t perceive it so much in London, but here in Inverness, I noticed some folks—men and women—crossing the street as I walked down it.
Even in Ardnoch, a tourist or two had crossed the street to avoid walking past me.
And while women, in general, didn’t seem to mind my appearance, there were a few, like the one we just passed, who were visibly intimidated.
That stung because I’d cut off my own fucking arm before I’d ever hurt a woman.
“Why?” Callie was pissed. “Because you’re tall and have tattoos?”
“Callie.” I squeezed her hand, not wanting to upset her, ever, but especially not while pregnant. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” she huffed. “I’m so sick of people and their judgmental nonsense.”
I tightened my grip, gently pulling her into me as I lowered my voice. “You don’t know why she reacted that way.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe something happened to make her afraid. If so, I feel bad for her, not angry.”
Callie halted in the middle of the corridor.
The morning sickness seemed to be over, and Callie had some energy back.
Her skin glowed healthily, and there were no dark circles under her eyes.
She was beautiful either way, but right now she was so stunning, my self-control was on a tightrope.
“You are the sweetest man I’ve ever known. ”
I smirked, abashed. Leaning down, I murmured, “How about the sexiest?”
Her blue eyes glittered with laughter and flirt. “That too.”
There had been a lot of flirting these past three weeks. Some kissing, hand-holding, hugging. But nothing else because we were taking it slow. And fuck, was it killing me slowly.
We checked in for our appointment and as soon as we sat down in the waiting area, Callie grumbled, “From avoiding you in the corridor to practically panting all over you.”
I asked her what she meant as I rested our clasped hands on my thigh.
“The receptionist,” she murmured under her breath. “She was undressing you with her eyes. Totally inappropriate. You’re here with your pregnant girlfriend.”
I didn’t hear anything else but “pregnant girlfriend.” I grinned.
Callie glowered. “Oh, you like that?”
“The pregnant girlfriend part, aye. Didn’t know we were calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend.”
Her eyes widened as she realized what she’d let slip. “Well, I mean, we’re d-dating—”
I cut her off with a quick kiss. “I’m your boyfriend.”
“Aye?”
“Aye.”
A smile tugged at her lips, giving her away even as she shrugged casually. “Cool.”
I chuckled. “Cool.”
Our appointment slot came and went as we waited, so we passed the time chatting quietly about the new house.
It came partially furnished, but Callie reckoned I needed to switch some pieces for softer, plusher furnishings to add coziness.
She was right. As it was, the house was very masculine, and I loved it, but I hadn’t only bought it for me.
Even if it took me the entire pregnancy to convince Callie to move in with me, I wanted the place as inviting as possible to her.
So I was subtly trying to get her to put her stamp on it.
“Maybe we could go sofa shopping,” I suggested. “I need your help to pick something.”
“Sure.” She shrugged happily.
“And mattress shopping.” The bed in the primary suite was built into the design, but I didn’t like the current mattress. “Something sturdy so I can give it to you how you like it.”
Callie’s eyes practically popped out of her head as she smacked my arm with her free hand and glanced quickly around to make sure no one was listening. “Lewis!” she hissed.
My shoulders shook with quiet laughter as our eyes met. I’m sure mine were reminding her of how hard she wanted it the last time we had sex because her cheeks bloomed an uncharacteristic shade of pink.
Fuck, she was adorable. I stole another quick kiss.
“Callie Ironside,” a voice called from our right, and we turned to see a woman in a dark blue smock.
We stood up, and her eyes fell on us.
Callie’s hand tightened around mine in a way I knew she wasn’t even aware of, and I pulled her into my side.
The woman moved toward us, a friendly smile on her face. “Hi, Callie, I’m Verity. I’ll be your midwife.”
“Nice to meet you. This is my … boyfriend. Lewis.”
Boyfriend. That hurt in a really good way. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too. Come this way.”