13. Alistair
ALISTAIR
Kenna dove at me, her arms wrapping around my legs. She turned her head up, upper lip smeared with what I guessed was a combination of marshmallows and chocolate.
Aisling came running up behind her, holding Princess’s leash. “Whoa!” she cried, giggling as Princess pounced at Madison, tail wagging.
“Look at those little booties!” Madison cooed, holding her hands out to examine Princess’s newly covered paws. “They’re adorable.”
Her flushed cheeks were the only evidence of the ruined moment—that almost kiss—and I cursed the timing, my gaze falling to her lips. One more minute, and I would have known their taste.
“Now her paws won’t get cold in the snow,” Aisling said. “Milo has some too, but his are much bigger.”
“Daddy, I got two cookies,” Kenna whispered, holding her fingers up.
“You did? Where are they?”
She giggled. “I ate them already.”
“You didn’t save me any?”
“Nope!”
I pressed my hand to my chest. “You wound me, child.”
Beside me, Madison chuckled. “You didn’t really think you could come between a girl and her cookies, did you?”
Weston and Lena stood behind the girls, hand in hand. “Now that’s a dangerous game. Anyway, yes, indeed. We’ve brought your child back now that we’ve filled her up with all the sugar.”
“Which I appreciate so much,” I quipped. It still amazed me how far we’d come from those boyhood days, climbing trees and chasing sheep around his grandfather’s property. We’d certainly never imagined chasing our own families around Braeburn’s festivals.
“Since Princess has boots, can we bring her to play with Milo and Bonnie at our house?” Aisling asked.
Kenna yawned even as she nodded in agreement.
Lena stroked Aisling’s hair back from her face. “I think you both probably need to get sorted for bed, sweetheart. It’s been a long afternoon.”
“I’m not sleepy,” Kenna said, forcing her eyes open the way she always did when she insisted on one more bedtime story.
“Me neither,” Aisling agreed, jumping up and down. “See? I have so much energy.”
“That’s sugar energy, and you’re going to crash out hard soon,” Lena promised. “You might be able to force yourself to stay up, but you won’t have any fun because you’ll be too tired. So what about tomorrow instead?”
“How about I call Uncle Alistair in the morning and we sort it out?” Weston suggested.
That was a reasonable compromise, and I quickly agreed before Kenna got riled up. Overtired Kenna was an emotional Kenna, and I didn’t want the day ending in tears. It had been a lovely afternoon—on all accounts.
My gaze darted in Madison’s direction. I couldn’t help studying that perfect cupid’s bow, wondering how it would feel to run my lips across hers.
Kenna leaned against her, and Madison’s hand instantly fell to her head, stroking the braid she’d wrangled her hair into this morning.
Seeing them like that, so natural together, warmed me even more than that almost kiss had.
Tension throbbed behind my ribs, and I yearned to reach out, to curl my arm around them both.
The intensity of the desire caught me off guard, and I tore my eyes away.
Asking Madison to be Kenna’s nanny for the month had been out of desperation, but seeing how quickly Kenna had taken to her had reassured me that my decision was correct.
Madison had walked into our lives a stranger but was already becoming so much more than that.
Part of me worried what that would mean for Kenna when Madison eventually chose to move on.
Soon, the month we’d agreed to would be over.
Soon, she wouldn’t have to stay, which meant I’d actually have to get around to looking over the resumés of the nannies Alfie had lined up for me to evaluate before setting up interviews.
My chest twinged uneasily at the thought.
It shouldn’t bother me as much as it did.
These were the terms we’d agreed to. Plus, there was no sense in worrying since I knew she wouldn’t be leaving right away.
Especially not with how excited Madison had seemed to be about starting classes with Lesley.
She might not have to stay in Braeburn, but it sure seemed like she wanted to.
“All right, you,” I said to Kenna, giving her a little nudge. “Say goodbye to everyone.”
Kenna hugged Weston, Lena, and Aisling, then promptly held her arms up for me to carry her back to the car. As we parted ways, I thought about the day when Kenna would be too old to want to be carried, and I held her a little tighter as she snuggled against my shoulder.
By the time we reached the car, she’d gotten a second wind and pointed at the little brown bag Madison deposited next to her booster seat. “What’s that?”
“Those are some jewelry pieces Madison picked out,” I said.
“Can I see?”
“How about when we get home?” Madison suggested, climbing into the passenger seat with Princess. “They’re all wrapped up.”
“Okay,” Kenna said.
I finished buckling her, then walked around to the driver’s side, climbing behind the wheel. “What did you get up to with Uncle Weston?”
“Besides acquiring Princess the most excellent little boots,” Madison added.
“We had hot chocolate with sprinkles.”
I hemmed as Madison laughed. “Weston really did squeeze every possible ounce of sugar into that thirty minutes, didn’t he?”
“And we saw some big snowmen,” Kenna continued, drawing pictures in the condensation on the window. There’d been an ice sculpture contest as part of the festival. “Princess peed on one.”
“Christ,” I muttered. Madison laughed harder.
“Then her feet got cold,” Kenna said.
Madison stroked Princess where she’d curled up in her lap. “I don’t know why I haven’t thought of little boots before.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as we headed up the road to Dunhope. “Because dogs do not need bedazzled shoes.”
“Every girl needs a little sparkle in her life,” Madison argued.
“You’re giving Princess a superiority complex.” The dog barked at the sound of her name. “Now she expects to be treated like a queen.”
Kenna yawned loudly from the backseat. I glanced in the rearview mirror in time to see her eyelids drooping.
“Hey, Ken,” I said. “We’re not that far. Can you stay awake for me?”
“Yep,” she said.
Madison glanced over her shoulder. “Three. Two. And…she’s out.” She turned around, smirking in my direction. “Well, she tried for a whole thirteen seconds.”
“She’ll be snoring by the time we get home,” I said, speaking from experience. It didn’t even take that long, though. Once we reached the bend at the end of the road, Kenna’s mouth dropped open and a little gurgle escaped.
“That’s adorable,” Madison whispered.
“The trick is going to be getting her into bed without fully waking her up,” I said as I turned up the long, winding driveway toward the house. Once I’d parked, Madison hopped out, collecting Princess and her gift bag. I retrieved Kenna from her seat, carrying her inside.
Together, we got her upstairs and into her pajamas. That roused her somewhat, and I used the moment to coax her into the bathroom, seating her on the counter to quickly brush her teeth while Madison turned down the bed and prepped the noise machine and nightlight.
I carried Kenna to bed to find that Princess had already jumped up and made herself comfortable.
I glared at the dog, as I did every night—and she ignored me, as she did every night.
We’d been forced to come to a silent understanding recently.
I either let the dog sleep in her bed, or at some point during the night, Kenna would get up and go looking for her.
Then I’d have the two of them prancing up and down the halls at three in the morning, which was far worse.
I tucked Kenna in beside Princess. Her eyes fluttered open, and I waited to see if she would ask for a story. She didn’t, instead rolling over to cuddle Princess.
Horrible.
I shook my head at the adoring look on Madison’s face, then followed her out into the hall. She lingered as I pulled the door, leaving it open a crack. “Interested in a nightcap?” I asked her.
“You got a bar cart around here?” she asked, the corner of her mouth twitching.
“I do, actually.”
“Well, in that case…” she said, sauntering past me with a bit of a swagger. “I’ll have a whiskey,” she said. “Though you should know, I only drink the good stuff.”
“This is Scotland. I only buy the good stuff,” I assured her as I led her down the hall to the library.
“I knew you weren’t all about these books,” she said as I crossed the room, pulling open a secret cabinet in the massive shelving unit. “It’s all a front for your secret bar.”
“I do quite fancy reading actually,” I told her. “I have since I was a boy.”
“I’m trying to imagine a studious little Alistair,” Madison said, grinning as I wheeled the bar cart closer to the couch. She sank down while I prepared her drink.
“I wasn’t actually that studious—I wasn’t reading for my lessons. When I was a boy, I loved fantasy.”
“Did you?” she said as I passed her a glass. “Thank you.”
“It was something I could share with my mum. She used to read to me when I was little. Then, when I got a little older, I’d read to her.
She was always frail by the end, she was mostly confined to her bed, but she’d love it when I pulled up a chair and cracked open one of her favorite books. ” I smiled a little at the memory.
“When did she pass?” Madison asked softly.
“When I was twelve.”
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured.
“It wasn’t easy,” I admitted. “Especially after my father remarried. His second wife is…” I trailed off.
“Well, let’s just say that she and I have never gotten along.
But that actually ended up being a good thing, since it meant she left me largely alone.
Around the house, I always had a book to get lost in.
And in the summers, my dad was more than happy to ship me off to camp. ”
“Is that where you met Weston and Locke?” she asked. “I’ve heard you all mention the Highland Adventure Camp.”
I nodded. “Weston’s grandad ran it. Weston and Locke became like the brothers I never had.”