Chapter 27

Willow

The preparations for the cèilidh that night were in full swing at MacAlpine Castle. True to his word, Ramsay had packed his truck full of anything we were worried about for a fire, including special-order fabrics, any personal mementos he cared for, as well as business papers and legal documents. Lachlan had ribbed him about moving up in the world when he'd seen all the boxes but had quickly helped move his stuff up to my apartment where we'd stored it in the spare bedroom. I'd appreciated that even though it was a deep inconvenience to move everything from the shop, Ramsay hadn't complained once.

Again, he'd listened and trusted my insight. And again, I wanted to tell him that I truly loved him.

We'd agreed that we'd just bring the bolts of fabric for the day's work with us down to the shop and transport it back at night. It would be devastating to lose some of those custom fabrics, especially with how long they took to make. If it took a few moments longer to bring each roll of fabric with us each day, so be it.

I just wondered how long we could operate that way. There'd been no timeline on when this supposed fire would start, and I'd been anxious all day thinking about it.

Calvin had been invited for a playdate with Archie in the library so I could finish my outfit and help with the dance preparation. I carried him downstairs, eyes peeled for a sudden Clyde appearance, and pushed open the door to the library, pleased that I'd successfully navigated the winding castle hallways to find it.

Pushing the door open, my mouth dropped open at the chaos I found.

"What the?—"

"Och, lass, come in, come in. We're having a bit of a game." Archie motioned me over to where he crouched in front of a lounge chair, lecturing Sir Buster. But it wasn't the dogs that I gaped at.

Two gnome statues, a man and a woman, two hedgehogs, and Brice were all lined up in a row on the carpet.

Let me rephrase that.

Two gnomes.

Real, live, moving gnomes.

Apparently, once they'd decided I was cool, or whatever, they'd snapped out of their statue mode and immediately started arguing with each other.

"You're not going to the dance without me."

"Maybe I'll meet one of the castle gnomes." The female gnome fluffed her hair, giving the male gnome, who wore a kilt and had tattoos on his arm, a wink.

"You can meet them all you want. You're coming home with me, lass."

"Um," I said, waving awkwardly at them. "Hi."

Calvin clawed at me to put him down and Brice let out that strange cooing sound again, racing across the room to hug Calvin, best friends reunited. The hedgehogs edged backward, cowering behind the gnomes, as my cat drew nearer.

"Calvin." Calvin turned and looked at me. "Be nice to the hedgehogs and, well, everyone here. Okay? This isn't a hunting ground for you."

Sir Buster peeked out from where he now cowered beneath Archie's legs while Lady Lola lay sprawled on the carpet, watching the others with lazy interest. Calvin bumped his head against Brice, curling around the broonie's body, and then winked at me. I couldn't decide if it was deliberate or not, but I figured if Archie could manage a playdate with all these magickal beings, then he could handle my cat.

"Are you…Shona's gnomes?" I hadn't met Shona yet, but I hoped to tonight.

"Gnorman and Gnora, both with silent Gs." Gnorman nodded to me, and it took me a moment to work out what he meant about the silent G.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Willow."

"We know that." Gnora sashayed forward, her skirt swishing around her knees. "I hear you design clothes. I'm in the market for some new dresses. Something to drive this one crazy."

"Och, you drive me crazy just by existing," Gnorman grumbled.

"Isn't he sweet? What do you think, Willow? Could you design for someone my size?"

"I design for all sizes," I said automatically, and smiled when she beamed up at me.

"In that case, I'll get Shona to bring me by one day. I like a really deep cleavage. Maybe some lace?"

"What about a pencil skirt? That drives men up the wall," I offered and Gnorman put a hand to his forehead and pretended to faint.

"That'll do the trick. I'll come see you soon."

"I look forward to it." And I did. I'd always said I would design for all shapes and bodies, and I thought it would be a fun challenge to design for Gnora.

"You go on and help with the preparations. We're taking turns on daycare duty." Archie nodded at me.

One of the hedgies ran forward and bumped his head against my toe, and I crouched, tilting my head as he smiled up at me.

"Hey, bud."

"That's Eugene. He's a sweetheart."

"Och, lass. Not as sweet as I am," Gnorman protested, scowling at the grinning hedgie.

"Who said I like 'em sweet?" Gnora winked at me as Gnorman fumed, caught.

"Then I'm tough as nails."

"Well, which is it then?" Gnora shot a flirtatious look over her shoulder.

"Are you going to race or not?" Archie interjected, and they all lined up in a row again.

As much as I wanted to watch the little magickals in a race, I had promised I'd stop by to see Lia, and to help with any prep work that was needed. Plus, I had to finalize my outfit. I hoped to knock Ramsay's socks off when he saw me tonight. With a wave goodbye, I took myself down to the kitchen, a smile on my lips.

I mean, seriously, how cool was that?

I was living a literal fairy tale and had the handsome prince to boot.

Humming, I walked into chaos in the kitchen, as people raced about, arms full of this and that. I paused in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt, as Lia issued orders from where she chopped vegetables at her prep table. A pretty blond woman stood by her side, unloading a basket of herbs.

"Willow! Come in, come in. Willow, this is Shona."

"Finally." Shona's blue eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled at me. "I've been meaning to stop by the shop."

"I think I just met your gnomes."

"Cheeky bastards, aren't they?"

"They are." I laughed, amazed that I was even having a conversation about live gnomes at the moment. "And Brice and Calvin were having a lovefest."

"Oh good. I told him to clear out while everyone was here. He has a tendency to get over involved in the party planning and can freak a few people out." Lia's knife flew as she spoke.

"I can imagine," I said dryly, looking up as Hilda poked her head in.

"Shona? Should we do flowers?"

"Put me to work. I just need like an hour to finish my outfit before the dance."

Before I followed Shona into the other room, I leaned close to Lia.

"How's your mom?" I whispered.

"Wicked good, thanks to you. She's got next level care." Lia's eyes warmed as she smiled at me. "I'll always be indebted to you."

"No, it's nothing. Really." I wanted to tell her about the vision I'd had about the fire, but figured she, quite literally, had enough on her plate. It could wait.

By the time I'd helped with the flowers, put out games for the kids, and packaged cute party favors, I was running out of time to finish my outfit. I couldn't wait for Ramsay to see me in it. Ducking out, I stopped by the library to find it empty. Archie must have taken them somewhere, but since I trusted him with Calvin, I figured he was probably stuffing the cat full of chicken and other various treats. Feeling excited for my first real Scottish dance, I opened my apartment door to find Ramsay with his back to me, his voice raised as he spoke to someone on the phone.

"I understand if you don't like it. But I'm not going to stop dating your sister."

My shoulders tensed. He was on the phone with Miles.

I'd meant to bring it up to Ramsay again, but we'd been so busy with other things. I hung back, nervous, as Miles let out a string of curses.

"You call yourself a friend? A brother to me? And you go and sleep with my sister?"

"It's not like that." Ramsay glowered at the phone.

"Some friend you are. I considered you a brother. You told me you'd look out for her. And instead you're hooking?—"

"Watch yourself." The warning in Ramsay's voice sent a shiver down my back.

"You watch yourself. If I was there, I swear to God, I'd lay you out. Screw you, man. You're no friend."

Miles's face disappeared from the screen, and Ramsay's shoulders slumped.

"Ramsay."

Ramsay turned, his face set in stone.

"He'll calm down. He's just … that's how he gets. You know Miles doesn't handle anything out of his control well. He sucks. Like, legit sucks. It's going to be okay once he calms down."

"He's not wrong."

I tensed at his words, stepping farther into the room, clenching my hands at my chest.

"What do you mean? Are you … ending things?"

I felt like I was being dumped the night of prom. My stomach twisted, and tears threatened.

"What? Och, no. No. But he's also not wrong. I crossed a line." Ramsay lifted his eyes to meet mine, and I stepped forward until we were inches apart. Still I didn't touch him. I lifted my face to his.

"Did you though? It's not like you took advantage of me. If this is what we both want, who is he to stand in our way?"

Was it what we both wanted? I loved this man. But I can't tell him I love him, not if he's unsure about what he feels for me.

Damn you, Miles. Ramsay's expression was virtually unreadable as he looked down at me. For once, I wished Clyde would spring into the room to break the tension, but no such reprieve presented itself.

"I should have told him…before. Asked his permission."

"Excuse me?" I reared back, annoyed. "Permission for what, exactly? I'm my own woman and can make my own decisions. I certainly don't need my brother's permission for anything that I do in my life."

"I still should have spoken to him." Ramsay's expression remained stony.

"You know what? You're starting to piss me off. And I don't like that, because I've got a pretty dress, and this is my first Scottish dance. Yes, I get it sucks that Miles is mad about this…whatever this is. But he'll come around. Or he won't. But either way, get it very clear in your head, Ramsay, that I'm the only one who gives out permission on what to do with my body, my future, and my life. Not Miles. Not anyone. So you can take your antiquated patriarchal notion of asking permission and shove it up your ass." I poked my finger into his chest for good measure and turned to flounce into the bedroom, where I could cry in peace. I'd really been looking forward to this dance.

I made it two steps before Ramsay grabbed me around my waist and buried his face in the back of my neck.

"I'm sorry. It's been weighing on me, not telling him. You're right. I don't need his permission to date you. I'm upset because I crossed a line with him is all."

And line crossing with brothers is a very sore spot with Ramsay.

My breath was shaky as I turned in his arms. I needed to give this man some grace, because he, too, had his own issues he was working out.

"You're still taking me to the cèilidh?" I'd been working on my pronunciation.

"I'd be honored to have you on my arm this night, my fair maiden," Ramsay joked, playing up that we were now sleeping in a castle. I closed my eyes, and pressed my forehead to his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me. We stood like that for a moment, our world recalibrating around each other, so many words left unsaid and yet nothing else needing to be said at all.

"I need to finish getting ready." My words were muffled against his shirt.

"Just a moment, darling." Ramsay reached a hand under my chin, lifting my face until his lips found mine. I sunk into the kiss. "There. That's better then."

"He won't stay mad long. Give him time."

"He's always had a short fuse." Ramsay shook his head, and I arched a brow at him.

"This from the man who exploded when I turned off Foo Fighters the other day?"

"Och, you can't turn off music mid-song. At the very least wait until the end."

The tension eased in my shoulders, and I tapped a finger against his nose before pulling myself from his arms.

"You need to get ready in the other bedroom. I want my Cinderella moment."

"You look amazing in anything you put on."

"Keep that up, sir, and you may just get lucky after the dance."

Ramsay flashed a wolfish grin that had desire tugging at my core.

"I plan to."

I hightailed it to my bedroom before I did something silly, like skip the dance so I could jump Ramsay, and closed the door behind me. Unzipping the garment bag that I'd laid across the bed, I pulled out my outfit and grinned at it. I'd taken inspiration from images I'd scoured online of traditional Scottish attire for women, and then I'd done my own spin on it to modernize it.

If I had to say, it was like Madonna meets Outlander.

Naturally, I'd gone with a pink tartan that I'd sourced. I'd sewn a wide high-waisted circle skirt that had plenty of flounce and movement when you twirled. I'd ended the skirt at the knees, and then had designed a black tulle petticoat for beneath the skirt to give it added pouf. For the top, I'd cut and sewn a bustier with a sweetheart neckline in black silk. I'd lined the edges with a slim strip of the pink tartan fabric and added pretty jet beads down the front. It was fun and fresh, as Sophie had told me that while people would be dressed up, it wasn't as formal as a wedding, so I designed something that would make me feel pretty and would have a lot of movement on the spins.

A few more stitches on the bustier and I'd be all set. Humming to myself, I finished off the outfit, rolled my hair into hot rollers, then took a lightning-fast shower. After, I did my makeup, smokey eyes and soft lips, and then unfurled my hair from the rollers and brushed it softly for big bouncy waves. Piling a few sparkles around my neck, I slipped on my dress, and realized my error.

Shit. I was going to need Ramsay to zip me up.

Annoyed, I went to the door.

"Ramsay."

"Aye?"

"I need you to zip me up but it's going to ruin my Cinderella moment."

"I'll keep my eyes closed."

"How will you zip me then?"

"By touch."

"I really don't see how that will work, but okay, let's try it. I'm coming out now."

Stepping out into the living room, I almost swallowed my tongue at the sight of Ramsay in formal kilt dress. Slick black boots, chunky socks, and a proper fitted vest and jacket outlined his broad shoulders perfectly. Did I really want to go to the dance? Maybe Ramsay had the right of it and we should just stay here.

He held his hands in front of him like a mummy, his eyes squeezed closed.

"Okay, I'm backing up into your hands," I said, turning around right before him and then backing up, holding the dress at my chest. His hands brushed my shoulders and then he grabbed my arms.

"Hmm, let's see if I can figure this out."

One hand reached around and cupped a breast, and my eyes widened.

"Zipper is at the back, Ramsay."

"Oh, right. Right. Just checking." His hands came around my waist and then landed on my butt, squeezing enthusiastically.

"A bit higher."

"Really, just so sorry, darling. I'm sure I'll get this sorted."

I suppressed a giggle. I liked this teasing side of Ramsay and hoped I'd be able to bring it out in him more.

Finally, his fingers found the zipper, and he tugged it closed, his breath warm at my shoulders as he did. Once secure, I danced away before he could distract me, and slammed the door to the bedroom so I could put my shoes on and take a moment to catch my breath. I nearly melted every time he called me darling. The way the R rolled off his tongue…it was so freaking sexy.

He just looked so handsome in his kilt. And he was my date to the dance tonight. Well, to anywhere, I guessed, though we hadn't actually had a conversation yet about what we were doing or the actual status of our relationship. I mean, it was too soon, wasn't it? Best to just let these things take their time.

Sliding on black sparkle high-heeled Mary Jane's, I straightened and went to the mirror, and clapped my hands in front of my chest. Twirling, I kicked my foot out, loving the flounce of the skirt, and how the sweetheart neckline accentuated my curves. My skin was flushed, my eyes sparkling with excitement, and I took a second to appreciate this experience.

Everything was happening for me.

I was finally coming into my own.

I had a new direction in my career that I loved. Designing with Ramsay was turning out to be challenging and exciting, and I enjoyed it immensely. I loved Loren Brae and the people that I was forging new friendships with here. My magick was coming into fruition and offered a new avenue of power for me to explore, which I think with time, would give me an added layer of confidence.

And then there was Ramsay.

A man right out of a fairy tale really.

And he was taking me to the dance.

Letting out a breath, I grabbed a small clutch I'd made from the same black silk as the bustier with the pink tartan edging, and cracked the door.

"Ready?"

"Aye, lassie."

I chuckled. He knew I loved it when he called me "lassie."

"Okay, ta-da," I said, stepping out of the bedroom with my arms wide, nerves fluttering in my stomach.

"Och, lass." Ramsay's eyes heated, and the look that crossed his face was almost feral. "You look incredible."

"You like it? You made fun of pink tartan the other day."

"On you? It's fantastic." Ramsay circled his finger and I twirled obediently. "Och, it's going to be impossible to keep from pulling you into a dark corner tonight and having my way with you."

"Sir," I said, pretending offense. "Is that how you talk to a lady?"

"That's how I talk to my lady," Ramsay said, his hands at my waist, his mouth hot at my ear. "Who I happen to know for a fact would enjoy me having my way with her in a dark corner."

"I mean, I suppose I wouldn't object." My skin heated as he trailed a finger across the silk at the scooped neckline.

"This silk feels nice," Ramsay said, brushing his palms across my chest, and I had to clench my thighs together.

"Keep that up, and we'll never make it to the dance."

"I'd be okay with that, but I need to show you off in this dress." Ramsay pulled back, and I laughed as he adjusted his sporran over where it was clear how much he wanted me.

I loved that. Loved knowing I could have that effect on this handsome and powerful man.

"Shall we then? Show me what this cèilidh stuff is all about."

"I hope you're ready to dance."

"I'll do my best," I promised as we wound our way through the castle. Excitement made me a bit giddy—it was hard not to feel like Cinderella going to the ball with her dashing prince.

"I hope you can dance in those heels," Ramsay said, as we stepped inside the bustling restaurant that had been transformed into a dance hall for the night. Tables had been pulled to the room's perimeter, and strands of twinkle lights and colorful streamers ran from one side of the room to the next. Candles were tucked at intervals along the rugged stone walls, and a small bandstand had been set up in the corner where the singer had just started to speak into the microphone.

"Welcome, everyone! We're Scottish Storm, and I hope you're ready to dance tonight. We're kicking off the party with a traditional Gay Gordon's. Partner up!"

"Oh God, just right in, huh?" I said as Ramsay dragged me into the circle. He came to stand at my side and placed his arm straight across my shoulder.

"Yup. It starts with three steps forward, swivel, then four steps backward."

"Wait, how many steps?"

"Three forward, turn, four backward." Ramsay's eyes twinkled. "He'll call it out, just listen for the instructions."

A fiddle struck up, playing a jaunty tune, before the band swung into a rousing song and the singer shouted into the microphone.

"And we're off. Three steps forward. Turn. Four steps back."

Ramsay's arm at my shoulders propelled me forward and I giggled as I missed the turn and bumped into a couple who was already moving backward. Everyone laughed, and the pace picked up as the singer called off the steps.

"Gents, turn your ladies."

Ramsay surprised me with a quick twirl.

"And once around the room."

Ramsay grabbed me and ushered me in the circle, everyone following suit. It took about three more tries before I didn't end up bumping into other couples, but soon I had it down and tossed my hair over my shoulder, my cheeks flushing as I laughed and stomped my way through the dance. It reminded me very much of country line dancing, and it was surprisingly fun. By the time the song ended, my skin had heated, and I was thoroughly enjoying myself.

"This is fun," I gasped to Ramsay when he pulled me aside.

"It is. Can I get you a drink or do you want to jump right into the next dance?"

"What's the next dance? Is it different steps?"

"Aye, lass. They'll keep changing it up, and then cycle back through the dances later on."

"Oh, I'd better learn them then."

"Gentlemen, line up on one side. Ladies on the other. This is called Strip the Willow," the singer called, and we followed instructions. I had to laugh at the name of the song when Ramsay winked at me.

"This dress is fabulous," Sophie said from my side. She looked amazing in a silky wrap dress in soft pink, and Lachlan had barely taken his eyes from her.

"Look at them," Lia said, leaning in from the other side. She wore a fitted simple black dress that showed every curve. Agnes appeared in a delicate sheath dress the color of the sky at dawn. Shona joined us, in a pretty floral flowy dress, and we all examined the men across from us.

Lachlan, Munroe, Owen, Graham, and Ramsay stood across from us, all different, and yet equally as magnificent. I hadn't met Owen yet, but I'd seen him dancing with Shona already, so I figured that was him. The men looked at us, each with equally hungry looks in their eyes, and we gave a collective sigh.

"It should be illegal to be that hot," Sophie said.

"Seriously," I breathed. The combined punch of these men standing together, all kilted up and knowing exactly what they were about, was enough to make any woman swoon. If swooning was still in style, that is.

"Starting from the top, couple number one…gentleman, swing your lady."

"And we're off," Sophie exclaimed, grabbing my hand. Ramsay winked at me from across the room, and I tossed my hair and winked back, feeling wanted in a way that I never had before. No matter what came next, I'd always have this memory, dancing in a centuries-old castle with a handsome man who only had eyes for me.

As life choices went, I was pretty pleased with where I'd landed.