KiltedForPleasure by Melissa Blue

they aren’t bothered by it now?”

    “Burke.” Apparently, he’d reached the end of his short patience.

    She hated that she liked that about him. Bothered. Right to her core. She needed to know why she liked his bark and loved his bite. Until she had that answer, going anywhere alone with him was probably a bad idea. “Do you, though? Rough women up? You have a temper.”

    He sighed and released her. “So stubborn.”

    “Such a jackass.”

    He shook his head, his lips pulling together like he was fighting a smile. “Baird, pour me a pint. I’m going to need it.”

    She laughed and turned to the man beside her. She offered him her hand. “I’m Victoria. Baird’s new caregiver. You are?”

    The man had to be in his late thirties. He wore a track suit and a gold chain around his neck. She could honestly say he’d be the first ginger she’d ever seen rocking a mullet. “A Yank can call me Bobbie. Where’d he find yer?”

    She bit into her lip until she got it. “Oh. His doorstep. Callan hired me. Are you a regular?”

    “This here is my spot. Never had such a good view before.”

    She could believe it. Though the place was packed, women were slim. The ones she had seen looked closer to the Baird’s age. She’d also noticed he’d winked at more than a few. If this is where Baird’s boys grew up, she could understand why they suffered from a constant testosterone overload.

    Callan shifted at her side and put a hand on her shoulder. She shook it off, ignoring him. Glasgow was supposed to be her haven away from him and here he was grouching at her. But she couldn’t say he was wrong about the booze at least. Her fingertips and earlobes had started to tingle like crazy. Baird’s moonshine was bound to kill her in a few hours.

    She decided to make the most of the time she had left on this earth and continued to have a semi-coherent conversation with Bobbie. Unfortunately at the end of his pint, he decided talking wasn’t good enough. He placed his beefy, moist hand on her knee.

    She smiled and knew her dimple would give him the impression of being sweet and kind. “Bobbie, are you fond of your hand?”

    He gave her knee a squeeze and winked at her. “I like where it is right now. You’re a soft lassie.”

    “I’m giving you five seconds to move it.” She leaned back, giving him her best bitchy glare. She felt Callan tense and then move behind her. “If you choose not to, then I’m going to get mean.”

    His face turned an impressive shade of red. His fingers dug in. “You teasing cu—”

    A fist flying over her left shoulder ended his sentence. Bobbie fell ass over teakettle in the chair. Victoria’s mouth dropped down. She knew who had hit him and could even guess the reason why, but shock stilled her and seemed to slow down time.

    Silence suddenly filled the pub. Several patrons turned in their seats. She could only imagine what this scene looked like. Her mouth wide enough to catch flies. Callan moving from behind her and rolling his shoulders. Bobbie laid out on the pub’s floor. Two more beats filled with silence passed and then the quiet was punctuated with a roar. It took her a few seconds to realize it was applause of all things.

    “The bastard deserved worse,” a woman’s voice piped up.

    Victoria turned to see it was the woman helping Baird behind the counter. Her green eyes were bright as she smiled. “He gropes me when he thinks no one is looking. Thank you, Callan. Pint on the house.”

    “Not a problem, Davina.” He sounded calm, almost jovial. “He should have been worried about what Burke would have done. I’ve seen her mean.”

    Everything had happened so fast, and Callan didn’t even look ruffled. Victoria stammered, still a bit stunned. “You punched him.”

    A rustle came from the floor and then curses floated in the air. Bobbie rose with his fists raised and ready for round two. She took in Callan’s lazy stance and broody brow. On the surface