27. Makenna
Makenna
We pull up to Malcolm’s family home and I’m stunned by how picturesque it is. It reminds me of a farmhouse, only made of stone.
“Is there a farm?”
“No. Neither of my parents were interested in farming. But it was a farm when my great-grandparents owned it. My parents inherited it from them.” We park behind a line of three cars and get out.
Malcolm meets me in front of the car, and points to a barn in the distance.
“My da uses the barn for his bee boxes. He worries about the bees when it’s cold, even though he knows better.
The bees that live here are acclimatized to the weather. ”
“He keeps them in the barn to keep them warm?”
“Yep.”
“Ah. That’s sweet.”
Malcolm laughs. “I guess so.”
He opens the front door, then places his hand on my lower back, urging me in first. I’ve seen this sort of interaction in movies, but I’ve never had a man do this with me.
Maybe that’s due to the fact that I’ve only made it past the second date once, and Ross wasn’t the type of guy to do it.
Not that Malcolm and I are dating. We’re simply comfortable with each other at this point.
I have to say, I don’t hate it. His ease with me, or the feel of his hand. Clearly, I’ve been missing his hands since he warmed me this morning at the castle.
I nearly step straight into two women, who seem to have seen us coming and been waiting.
They must be Malcolm’s two older sisters.
They’re tall, around my height. One has long curls, the same color as Malcolm’s, and the other has a stick-straight black bob.
They’re both gorgeous. Which should be no surprise given Malcolm’s their brother.
“Makenna! Welcome,” the red head says with barely restrained energy. “I’m Ailsa.”
“And I’m Isla,” the dark-haired beauty speaks up. “Lovely to meet you.” Isla is clearly the more reserved of Malcolm’s two older sisters, but her smile is kind and genuine.
Malcolm steps in and kisses them both on the cheek.
“It’s really nice to meet you both,” I say.
“Ohh. What a cute accent!” Ailsa says, then turns her gaze to her brother. “Malcolm, you didny tell us how cute her accent is.”
“Were you expecting me to give you a list of all her cute attributes?”
Ailsa laughs. “Yes, of course.”
“I guess you’ll be able to see some of them tonight, but about her accent”—he turns and looks at me—“it’s even cuter when she sings.”
I feel my face flame. Why do I have to be so pale? I turn my attention to the house. I’m no expert, but it looks to me that the home has been well preserved, the original details honored, and well kept. I’m not trying to kick anyone from their home, but I wish this was my house.
“This place is stunning. And all the land? What a place to grow up,” I say, hoping to turn the subject from me and my supposed cute attributes.
“You know, Malcolm might end up with this place before long. Mam and Da are always talking about moving somewhere smaller.” Ailsa says, then Isla elbows her in the ribs.
“I’m not sure Da wants to leave his bees,” Malcolm says.
“He could still have hives here and add some at his new place,” Ailsa suggests.
“Neither of you would want to live here?” I ask.
“I don’t think so,” Ailsa answers. “My husband and I are already settled and love our home, and Isla prefers something more modern.”
“How about we let Makenna actually come into the house?” Isla suggests. She leads us into the living room then calls out to their parents. “Malcolm and Makenna are here!”
A moment later, a man who looks like an older, and surprisingly taller, version of Malcolm steps into the room, followed by the woman I already know to be his mother.
Malcolm makes introductions, and his father gives me a very firm handshake, followed by a very firm hug from his mom.
Malcolm leans in and kisses his mother’s cheek.
He’s so sweet. He really loves his family.
“How are you feeling, dear? Recovering well?” Mrs. Robertson takes a seat and motions for the rest of us to, as well.
“Very well. I’m feeling more like normal, thankfully.”
“Coming on holiday and having to have emergency surgery. How awful,” Isla says.
Malcolm, who is sitting pressed up against me on the couch, puts an arm around my shoulders. “It was a pitiful situation but look at her now.”
Please don’t look at me now.
Light chuckles fill the room as everyone looks my way.
I have no idea what’s happening with my face.
Malcolm and I are connected all the way from my calf to my opposite shoulder.
Why is he sitting so close, and why did he put his arm around me?
I mean, I love it, but … he’s acting like we’re together.
Maybe he’s just affectionate and doesn’t think anything about it.
I did just watch him kiss his mom and sisters.
And maybe after this morning, he feels super at ease with me.
I definitely feel at ease with him. But I also feel other things with him. Things I’m sure he doesn’t feel about me. But I’ll soak in his nearness while I can. Apart from the fact that I might be letting him ruin other men for me, I’m no dummy.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m having to stay with my doctor to be doing so well, I’m not sure what that says about me.”
Why do I make weird jokes when I’m feeling overly anxious?
Thankfully everyone laughs.
“Oh, if you’re doing well staying with Malcolm, it’s not because he’s a doctor,” Ailsa says with a grin.
Malcolm leans in as if he’s speaking just to me, but it’s for the entire room. “Ignore Ailsa. She was born with some sort of disconnect between her brain and her mouth.”
I chuckle.
“Why are you always so rude, Malcolm?”
“He’s not, and you’re talking too much,” Isla says to Ailsa.
I turn toward Mr. Robertson. “Malcolm told me about your bees.”
Mr. Robertson smiles, clearly excited to talk about his hobby. “It all started when we found bees in the kitchen wall. I learned all I could about them, relocated the hive into a box and before I knew it, I had me twenty boxes.”
“Oh wow. Do you harvest the honey?”
“We do. I actually sell it in local markets. We turned Malcolm’s old room into a bottling room.”
“Why it had to be my old room, I’ll never know,” Malcolm said in jest.
“I’m sorry we disturbed your old Caley Thistle poster, football trophy, and box of trash,” his dad said with a small, crooked grin. Clearly, they’d had this conversation before.
Malcolm moved his arm. I thought he was simply bringing it back to his side, but as his hand passed behind my head, he seemed to feel my hair. He jerked his hand back to himself, and sat stock still, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just done.
I can’t quite believe it either.