Page 75 of The Highlander Steals a Virgin
“Ye ken,” William said, as Rhys poured himself a dram, “it’s a curious thing. Watching a man fall in love.”
“I’m nae —” Rhys started.
“— in love?” Myles finished for him. “Aye, and I’m a priest.”
“Please,” William muttered. “Ye’d set fire to the pulpit for a smile from that redheaded barmaid with sharp elbows.”
“I’d set fire to the whole bloody chapel for that woman,” Myles said solemnly, before bursting into laughter.
Rhys sat, glass in hand, and stared at them both.
William, ever the quiet one, gave Rhys a long look. “Ye’ve been different lately.”
“Different?” Rhys echoed.
“Aye. Smilin’ more. Growlin’ less. Daenae think we dinnae notice how fast ye bolted out of the tavern the second Amara yawned.”
“She was tired,” Rhys said.
“Aye, and ye're a gentle cradle rocker now?” Myles grinned. “Should we start callin’ ye Papa Bear?”
Rhys took a long, deliberate sip. “It was actually ye two oafs who got us kicked out, or do ye nae remember what’s just happened only minutes ago.”
“Minutes?” Myles said waving a stolen smoked sausage link
William tapped ash into the hearth. “Ye ken what I think?”
“Nay,” Rhys said flatly.
“I think ye like bein’ needed.”
Rhys stiffened.
William continued, quieter now. “Daisy needs ye, aye. But she’s always needed ye. Now there’s someone else. Someone that listens. Thatchallengesye.”
Rhys stared into his cup.
“Only question is — what’ll ye do if she leaves?”
Rhys didn’t answer.
Myles leaned back against the hearth, suddenly more serious. “She’s good for ye, mate. We all see it.”
Rhys blinked, “What?All?”
“I meant… just —” he used the half-eaten sausage to point between himself and William a few times before William cracked.
“For Christ’s sake, Myles. Eat the damn sausage and stop playin’ with it! Ye're distractin' from the point!” Their argument ensued with a typical hilarity that seemed to miss Rhys as he started to feel the weight of it settling on his chest.
Myles gave him a slow, crooked smile. “Well… she’ll stay.”
“How can ye be so sure?” Rhys asked, voice low.
William blew a long stream of smoke toward the fire, his eyes tracking the orange dance of the embers.
“Because, Rhys,” he said plainly, “ye’ve been in love with her since the second day.”
Rhys scoffed. “The second day?”
