Chapter 4

Ramsay

"That should do it, lads."

Munroe grinned at Lachlan and me. We'd been recruited to help move a heavy stack of timber for the new distillery into an old outbuilding near the castle that Munroe was in the process of converting. Even though he'd hired a crew of joiners to help, with the rain lashing down, it was quicker to get the timber inside when more of us were there to help.

"We'll collect on that pint later." Lachlan wiped his brow with the back of his arm.

"Or you can name a gin after me," I suggested.

Common Gin had quickly become a household name in Scotland, and Munroe's determination to keep it local, accessible, and a favorite of the people was what made it so beloved. His decision to build a distillery in Loren Brae would not only bring a significant volume of tourism back to the town but was also part of what had made me consider coming home and opening a shop here.

That, and my father needing more of my help.

It had been an easy enough solution, returning to Loren Brae and establishing a new shop, and one that had allowed my father little in the way of protest. If I had told him that I was coming home to help him, he would have discouraged that decision.

Even though some days he had trouble remembering which of his sons were speaking to him.

A recent stroke had impaired my robust father, causing him both neurological and physical damage, and his recovery had been slower than he hoped. The day we received the call to say he'd collapsed had been an enormous shock, but to see him struggle with basic, daily tasks had been grim. How can someone so strong seem so feeble? My mother, the calm saint that she was, carried on easily, never asking for help and weathering my father's frustrated outbursts with an equanimity that I could only envy. It was only through her that I knew how annoyed my brother was that I had returned to Loren Brae, putting me near our parents, and thus earning the "favorite one" title that he apparently so desired.

I gave zero shits what Andrew thought. As far as I was concerned, I had no brother.

"You have to do a lot more than lift a bit of wood to get a gin named after you," Munroe said.

"Isn't that what Lia did to get a gin named after her?"

I threw my hands up to block Munroe's punch, laughing as I ducked out of the way.

"Och, never talk about a man's bride-to-be, Ramsay," Lachlan chided as I held up my hands in defeat.

"Apologies, mate. It was too good of an opening to leave hanging."

"Fair play," Munroe said, lifting his chin at the castle behind me. Turning, we saw a car come up the drive.

"Sophie's back." Lachlan, as though he was a dog answering his master's whistle, took off toward the castle, the rain having abated the minute we finished unloading the lorry.

"Does he do this every time she comes back from the shops?" I asked Munroe, following at a more sedate pace.

"Any time she enters a room, really."

"I'm surprised he hasn't dragged her to the altar yet."

"Oh, he's planning to. But she's insisting on running MacAlpine Castle for a full year before she considers any relationship advancement. Something about proving herself and there was a spreadsheet with a timeline involved, I think."

"Ah yes, the spreadsheet approach to love. Very logical."

"And your favored way is…?" Munroe slid a glance at me, and I grinned.

"To love 'em and leave 'em, naturally. I'm not really into relationships. I like my space."

"I get that. More time to play board games."

"There's that." Munroe was a bit of a board game freak, so that must have made sense to him. Being a touch competitive, I was typically down for any game, so long as it didn't require hours of my time to learn. Which, I'm told, separated me from the true board game lovers.

Like I had an entire day to waste learning the rules of Sir Toadfrog the Fairy King or whatever.

Sophie wasn't wrong, I really did need to hire an assistant. Not particularly to run the shop, but I needed more help to run my business as a whole. My business manager, a steely-eyed lass by the name of Elaine, who had whipped my entire company into shape, had recently moved to the States, and I was left with more paperwork than I knew what to do with. That, coupled with my father's health issues, and the recent opening of my Loren Brae shop, had left me gasping for a moment to myself.

The sound of barking had me turning, a smile at my lips. Sir Buster, a snarly little chihuahua who vacillated between charm and hate, rounded the corner of the castle with a stately dame of Corgi mix following on his heels at a more leisurely pace. Lady Lola, the only one who could tolerate Sir Buster regularly, had been a welcome addition to the castle.

Sir Buster skidded to a stop at my feet, shivering in the cold, and growled.

"Aye, wee man. It's a blustery one today," I agreed.

Lady Lola, as charming as could be, bumped her head against my leg, and I bent down to give her a proper hello.

I loved animals. All kinds. I wasn't a dog person any more than I was a cat person or held strong viewpoints on their veracity as pets. I didn't care. If a cute fuzzball wanted to make my acquaintance, I was happy to do so, frankly far more so than with any people that wanted to chum up to me. Pets, I liked. People, I could do without. Sir Buster, seeing Lola getting all the attention, dropped the tough guy act and sidled closer, shivering as a gust of wind pushed him backwards on his teeny feet. Risking a lost finger, I scooped him up and tucked him in the crook of my arm, where he instantly settled into the warmth of my jumper. He growled at me once, as though to let me know he was still in charge, and then his eyes slid to half-mast as I carried him toward the castle car park.

MacAlpine Castle, as stately as she was understated, loomed over manicured gardens put to bed for the winter. With half the castle kept historically accurate and offering tours, MacAlpine Castle typically did a brisk business in the summer. Winter and early spring were the slower months, but even so, there should have been a few visitor cars scattered in the car park. Instead, it was just Sophie's car next to mine.

A statuesque woman got out of the passenger side of Sophie's car, the wind blowing her auburn hair across her face. She tossed her hair back with a laugh, and I was too far away to make out her features, but her laugh punched me in the gut. It had a raucous vibe to it, as though inviting me to join in on the joke, and my interest piqued.

If I were to date, she was the type I liked, at least from a physical standpoint. Ripped jeans covered thick thighs, and the wind molded a heather grey jumper against sizeable breasts. Black and white Adidas trainers, big hoop earrings, and a cheerful grin on her face made her seem casual, cool, and approachable. Being a big man myself, I liked a woman who didn't feel like she would snap under my hands. This woman's body looked like a virtual playground to me, and I had to dart my attention away before I was caught staring too long.

I wondered if her jumper was real wool.

Nerd.I snorted lightly to myself. I was such a fabric nerd when it came to the products I used for making my kilts. It was one of the reasons I'd gone into the business, to preserve the history of Scotland, and I only used locally sourced textiles for my kilts.

Sophie popped the boot of the car, and I almost dropped Sir Buster in my rush to step in front of Lachlan and offer a hand with the luggage I saw there. Whoever this woman was, she was staying for a while, and even though I'd just told Munroe that I was off relationships, I certainly wasn't off sex. There was nothing wrong with a casual holiday fling, as far as I was concerned. Handing Sir Buster off to Lachlan, I offered a hand.

"Here, lass, let me get that for you."

The woman turned, a smile on her lips, and her face froze. A myriad of emotions flashed through her eyes, the most damning being anger, before the smile returned.

"Ramsay?"

I squinted, my brain scrambling to place where I'd met this beautiful woman before. Had it been that one-night stand in Glasgow last year?

"Ramsay, it's Willow." Willow looked at me, her eyebrows raised in expectation, and then it all clicked.

Oh shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I'd just been ogling my good mate's little sister. I hadn't seen her since she was in high school, and her hair had been bleached blond with odd green streaks at the time. Now, the auburn color brought out the turquoise tones of Willow's eyes, and I blinked at her as my brain struggled to move from picturing her straddling my body to friendly acquaintance.

"Willow. Wow, what are you doing here? Is Miles here, too?" I looked around, as though he would pop out from behind a bush or something. It also gave me an excuse to force my eyes away from Willow's sparkling eyes and rid myself of indecent thoughts.

"You two know each other?" Sophie asked, tilting her head at me.

"Kind of. I mean, we do, but we're not like…" I stumbled over my words, immediately annoying myself.

"Ramsay is one of my brother's good friends." Willow's eyes narrowed at that, and there was that flash of anger again. I wondered if I had done something when I visited, and she'd harbored some secret grudge against me all those years.

Then immediately chastised myself. Inflated ego much? She probably hadn't thought a thing about me since.

"You look great," I said. So much for keeping my mind off her luscious body.

"That's great you two already know?—"

"I haven't seen Ramsay in years. Odd you show up now, isn't it?" Willow said, interrupting Sophie, tilting her head at me. I definitely hadn't imagined that flash of anger.

"Odd, how? I live in Loren Brae, lass."

"Do you? Miles hadn't mentioned that. I thought you were running some fancy business somewhere."

"Ramsay is?—"

"Fancy business? Miles must be talking me up." I smiled, wondering why Willow seemed so on edge.

"No, he rarely mentions you except for when you go on your yearly trip together. In fact … I hadn't heard about you in ages until a few hours ago when I told my brother I was coming here. Then he brought you up. Weird, right?" Willow tapped a shell-pink painted nail against her pillowy lips, and I had to swallow against the surge of lust that ran through me.

Down, boy. Friend's sister. Not yours to touch.

"Not that weird, no. I do live in Scotland, so it seems pretty natural for him to bring me up."

"Willow, Ramsay is?—"

"I don't need you reporting back to my brother," Willow said, once again interrupting Sophie. She put a hand on her hip and pushed her lower lip out in a pout.

I wanted to bite it.

"Is there something you plan to be doing here that requires me to report to your brother?" I raised an eyebrow at her. Turns out, Willow must have grown up into one of those prickly women annoyed by anything and everyone. Which was the last thing I needed in my life.

"Would it matter? It's my business. Not my brother's."

"Why don't we get you settled?" Sophie said as I tried to figure out what Willow was hiding from me.

"You're staying here then? In one of the flats? Are you renting them out now? Holiday rentals?" I asked Sophie as I heaved Willow's two bags easily from the boot and started toward the castle, forcing Willow to keep up with me.

"No, it's just that?—"

"Oh my God!" Willow shouted and I almost dropped her bags at her shout. Turning, I caught her staring in awe at the castle. "This place is incredible. And do the dogs live here? Please tell me they live here."

"They live here." Lachlan stepped forward, his hand outstretched. "I'm Lachlan, and welcome to MacAlpine Castle."

"Hi, Lachlan. It's so great to meet you. This place is just…words fail me. Wow."

Lachlan smiled. He loved when people delighted in his castle.

Not wanting to provoke Willow, because she was certainly a lot sweeter in her greeting of Lachlan, I kept my mouth shut while she cooed over the dogs, exclaimed over the castle, and chattered with Sophie like they were best friends. I'd missed a step somewhere, that was for certain. Once I'd dropped her bags at the flat she must be renting, I stepped back into the hallway while Sophie walked farther into the apartment with Willow.

"I'll just…catch you later?" I interrupted, feeling awkward and uncertain of my role here. I mean, technically, Willow was a friend, right? And if that was the case, would it be out of reason to invite her to the pub for a drink later? Just to catch up. I hadn't spoken to Miles in a few months, so to see his sister out of the blue was surprising, to say the least. But her words… "I don't need you reporting back to my brother.It's my business. Not my brother's." What was with that? I opened my mouth to speak, but Willow just fluttered her fingers at me in a little wave.

"Bye, Ramsay. Tell Miles I'm fine."

At that, I arched a brow, opening my mouth to retort, but then thought better of it. It wouldn't do for me to be hulking over this woman as she settled into her bedroom. Best for me to head back downstairs and gather information from Lachlan.

And I would definitely be on the phone to Miles later.