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“Obviously,” I snort.

The man in question strolls into the kitchen as if summoned, looking entirely too chipper for my tastes. “Morning,” Finlay says cordially. “How are we all feeling on this fine day?”

Brodie glares at my grandpa as he drinks straight from the carton, and I have to say that as much as I’ve come to adore Finlay, I’m tempted to do a bit of glaring myself.

“How are you fine?” I ask him. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.”

“Aye, that’ll be your delicate American sensibilities,” Finlay laughs.

Brodie makes a disgruntled sound. “That doesn’t explain whymyhead is throbbing.”

“You’ve always been a lightweight,” Finlay tells him with a wave of his hand.

Rhona enters the kitchen then, clucking her tongue at Brodie, who’s still holding his orange juice. “What have I told you about drinking from the carton?”

“Sorry,” Brodie offers with a wince. He shoots another withered look toward Finlay. “Your husband tried to poison us last night.”

“I told the both of you to go on to bed,” Rhona scoffs. “It isn’t Finlay’s fault you don’t listen.”

Brodie settles into one of the chairs at the table, groaning softly. He leans in closer to me, lowering his voice. “He got us steamin’ so he could win at cards.”

“I heard that,” Finlay calls from across the kitchen. “Don’t need you to be steamin’ to beat you at cards.” He gives me a pointed look. “Brodie is terrible at cards. No poker face, that one.”

“I’ve got a perfectly good poker face,” my cousin grumbles.

I laugh despite the fresh throbbing it sets off in my temples, and graciously accept the cup of tea Rhona offers even though it comes with a disapproving look.

“Drink it slow,” she says softly. “Don’t upset your stomach.”

I give her a shy smile. “Thank you.”

Our relationship still isn’t flowers and rainbows after the talk we had, but I’m happy to be able to say that it has improved, at least. I can tell with every interaction between my granny and me that she’s trying her best, and honestly, that’s more than enough for me.

I’ll need to find Lachlan after I finish my tea; given that he’s found me in his bed every morning for the last three in a row, I’m sure he’ll be wondering where I am when he gets back from his night at the loch. It occurs to me that I don’t even have his phone number. Hell, I haven’t even seen himwitha phone. It’s so strange to be in a position where I haven’t found myself checking it consistently, a far cry from life back in New York, to be sure. I actually kind of like it.

I hear a door open and shut from the front of the house just as Rhona is asking me how I like my eggs, and within seconds, the kitchen entry is filled with a very frazzled-looking Lachlan, appearing as if summoned by my thoughts. His hair is windswept and his blue eyes are wide when they land on me, but there is an instant softening in them when they meet mine, like a tension ebbing out of them. Was he worried about me?

“Lachlan,” Rhona greets. “Come for breakfast?”

He blinks twice as if coming out of a daze, tearing his gaze from mine and turning to Rhona. “What? Oh. No. I was just…” His mouth closes before opening again, struggling to come up with a good reason for being here, no doubt. “I was—”

“Sorry,” I offer, saving him. “I know I told you I’d meet you at thebarn this morning, butsomeone”—I give my grandpa a scathing look—“got me drunk while playing cards last night.”

Lachlan looks confused for only a moment before it seems to dawn on him. “Oh. Right.” He shuffles his weight from one foot to the other. “It’s no issue. I can teach you how to move the hay another time.”

“Well, you’re here,” Rhona says gruffly. “You might as well stay and eat.”

“No, I wouldn’t want to impose—”

Rhona furrows her brow, causing Lachlan to let whatever objections he’d been about to offer die on his tongue. He gives her a clipped nod instead, moving farther into the kitchen and taking a seat on the opposite side of the table from me. His eyes furtively seek mine, and I give him a smile that I hope conveys my apology for getting him into this mess. I know he’s still uneasy around my family.

Finlay drops into the chair beside Lachlan. “You were going to show Keyanna how to use the tractor, then?”

“Ah…Yeah.” Lachlan clears his throat. “She was curious.”

Finlay beams at me. “Practically an auld hand at this now, aren’t ya?”

“Hardly,” I scoff. “The cows still sort of terrify me.”