In Scot Water - Caroline Lee Page 0,21
off his stool, but the lad had only ducked his head under the table.
“Ye’re wearing a blanket now.” He pointed his spoon at the man’s chest. “Ye should probably take it off so it doesnae get as wet as yer kilt was.”
At the mention, Malcolm’s eyes darted to the heavy woolen plaid, still hanging from the hooks and rafters. With the leak, it would likely never dry.
“Would ye like to help me?” he asked.
“Help ye?” The lad paused, the spoon halfway to his lips. “With what?”
Malcolm jerked his head toward the thatch. “Let us work together to try to cover this leak. Even if it keeps raining, mayhap yer home will at least dry out.”
The boy’s bright green eyes lit up as he began shoveling porridge into his mouth. By the time his mother had returned, looking adorably disheveled as she tried to keep the bairn’s fingers from her nostrils—did all babes do that?—Liam was already stripping out of his shirt and kilt.
“Mama, me and Malcolm are going up on the roof to do manly things, aright? We’d better leave our clothes here so they dinnae get soaked.”
Her questioning gaze turned to Malcolm, and she just looked so perfectly domestic, he couldn’t help his response.
He leaned over and brushed a kiss across her lips.
That same jolt, the same spark from yesterday flared between them. But even as she sucked in a startled breath, he was pulling back, tweaking the bairn’s nose.
“Aye, manly things,” he agreed with a wink.
As the lad ran naked out the door, Malcolm reached for the knot at his waist which held his blanket up. With a squeak, Evelinde whirled around, her eyes closed and her breaths coming faster.
“What— What manly things?” she managed.
“Oh, I’m sure I can come up with something to teach the lad. Something involving sausages or other meat products, likely.” The blanket fell away, and when he tossed it over the back of one of the chairs, he saw her eyes lock on it. “Ye dinnae need to send Nanny out after the lad, if ye trust me to care for him.”
Still grinning, he sauntered—nude—out the back door.
She didn’t turn, but she didn’t send Nanny after them either.
“Fixing the leak” had sounded so simple, but the logistics of reaching it were much harder, especially with everything being soaked. There was no ladder, but Malcolm and Liam were able to scramble up and down with some help from a few stones pushed near the wall.
The lad kept up a running commentary as they worked, seemingly impervious to the rain or the roar of the burn so alarmingly close. Malcolm listened with half an ear as his fingers deftly wove more thatch together, and he calculated how many more hours and days of rainfall would be necessary for the water to break its bank and sweep across this valley, endangering Evelinde and the boys.
Her family.
His family.
He’d known her less than a day, and already he considered her his.
The curse slipped from his lips as easily as the thatch did when he dropped the section he was working on, and Liam cheerfully repeated it.
“Dinnae let yer mother hear that,” Malcolm warned.
“I willnae. I ken she wants me to be a gentleman. That’s why I cannae speak of penises, ye ken.”
Malcolm hummed, pulling his knees up and hunching over so his torso could protect his work. How much easier this would be with some sort of covering! But not a roof, since he was working on a roof. Mayhap oiled cloth, held over his head? But how, if both his hands were occupied and his only companion a boy of five?
It was a long moment before he realized he was staring unseeing down at the thatch between his fingers, while Liam espoused his theories on gentleman behavior as they pertained to male reproductive organs.
A wry smile tugged at Malcolm’s lips, and he shook his head as he got back to work. His brothers had long teased him about his ability to get so distracted by his inventions and theories, he often forgot what he was supposed to be doing. He couldn’t risk that now, not atop a croft with a small lad in his care.
Still, the idea of a portable roof had merit.
“Do all men’s penises look like that?”
Malcolm’s gaze jerked to the lad, who was pointed at Malcolm’s crotch. The man shifted, wondering if he should figure out how to cover himself, and raised a brow.
“I dinnae ken. We might all bathe outside, aye, but I