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“You’ve got your secrets,” he laughs. “I’ve got mine.”

He gives me another sharp slap between the shoulders, and then he’s strutting off to the platform that’s been erected beside Key’s tower, a speaker in the center that’s connected to the mic.

I notice the other contestants starting to make their way closer to the platform, including Isla’s twins, whose names I can’t exactly recall—one of them might be a Cormac? I also see Malcolm strutting over in a garishly red kilt of his own, his red beard braided like he’s marching to battle rather than gearing up to jump through some tires.

“He could have worn a shirt,” someone mutters beside me.

I glance at one of the twins—seriously, is it Cormac or Camdan? He’s frowning at Malcolm’s display as much as I am. Good. At least there’s one other person here with some good sense. The other twin saunters up just beside his brother, both of them wearing black shirts with the sleeves ripped off and sporting their tartan kilts of blue and green.

“Aye, he could have,” I concur.

One of them makes a face. “And isn’t he auld enough to be the lass’s da?”

“He is,” I grouse. “But I’m pretty sure he’s mostly here for the bragging rights anyway.”

I don’t like the way they both turn to eye Key where she’s chatting with Hamish from her tower, and I have to remind myself that, asfar as anyone else is concerned, she’s fair game. Even if I’ve started to think of her as mine.

“Ewan,” one of them says, sticking out his hand and cutting through my darkening thoughts.

I shake it just as the other brother offers his. “Niall.”

Well, I was completely off, then, wasn’t I?

“Lachlan.”

“Aye, we know,” Ewan chuckles.

Niall waggles his brows. “Think you can keep up, auld man?”

All right, so they’re both numpties after all.

“I might ask you the same question,” I hmph. “Are either of you even auld enough to drink?”

“We’re auld enough for a lot of things,” Niall laughs.

I notice him turning his head in the direction of Key’s tower, lifting his hand and wiggling his fingers in a wave. “Auld Finlay’s granddaughter is a pretty wee thing, aye?”

He shares a fist bump with his brother, and I decide then that I’m going to destroy the both of them.

“You lassies ready to get beaten?” Malcolm calls, taking his place in front of the platform.

I eye his barrel chest and huge arms—reminding myself that I have something none of them have. That I could toss all three of them across the field all at once if I had half a mind to.

My smile feels wild on my mouth as it curls up, showing teeth. “We’ll see.”

The smugness from my immediate win of the caber toss lasts for all of ten minutes before the twins use some underhanded tactics—mainly, tripping me—to win the obstacle course, and by two hours in, I’m not only soaked with sweat, but feeling murderous to boot. Ewan is out, thank Christ, but his brother Niall and Malcolm are still in the running.

Every time I glance in Key’s direction, I can tell she’s enjoying this entirely too much. I’m happy to see her having fun, but I have definitely caught her looking a bit too much like she’s laughingatme and not with me. I should spank her arse for that.

“You all right, Grandpa?”

I narrow my eyes at Niall, leaning with my hands on my knees as I catch my breath. Damn Blair for making this whole thing so fucking authentic. We couldn’t just do a bit of tossing and climbing and be done with it?

“Next up,” Hamish calls, “we have the traditional hammer throw! Our lads here will toss a pole with aheavymetal ball attached at the end, and we’ll be judging them on their distance. The competitor with the shortest throw will be disqualified, and that will leave us with only two left to enter the final task!” Hamish gestures to Key, who does a pretend curtsy even though she’s wearing pants. “Remember, a kiss from this bonnie lass is up for grabs, so give it your all, aye?”

Nothing like the story at all, I swear.

“You can have the kiss,” Malcolm calls, “but I’m still going to kick both your arses.”