Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Tears filled my eyes as Mackennon took her, and I saw the worry and regret in his.
“I’m sorry, darlin’.” I heard him over her mournful sobs. “I shouldn’t have brought her here.”
“It was a nice thought,” I promised him, even as I strained to hold back my own tears. I smoothed a hand over my daughter’s back as she buried her face in Mackennon’s throat. “Mummy will be home soon, Skye Pie.” My words caught.
I waited, biting my lip to hold back more emotion as Mac put our still-crying daughter into the car seat and closed the door. He strode over to me, clasped my face in his hands, and pressed a hard kiss to my mouth. When he pulled back, those dark eyes stared intensely into mine. “Whatever will make you happy is what we’ll do, but never feel guilty for wanting your career. As for that prick over there, I want to know if he gives you any hassle.”
I smirked sadly at him. “I have to fight my own battles, Mackennon.”
“Okay. But remember, I’m always here when you need me to fight them with you.”
“I know. I love you.”
“I love you too. Skye will be fine. I’ll take her to see the horses outside Caelmore, and that will cheer her up. You’ll be home before she knows it.”
Covering his hands with mine, I whispered, “I feel like I’m missing everything.”
“You’re not,” he promised. “You’re showing our daughter what it means to balance being a loving, caring mother and strong, capable, successful woman. Because that’s what you want for her, right?”
My husband always made me feel better. “Thank you.”
He gave me another quick kiss. “See you at home, darlin’.”
While Mackennon had taken the edge off my guilt and sadness, as I watched him reverse and drive away with Skye, I could feel the panicked melancholy push in at my edges.
“Arrochar!”
Scott’s voice sent indignation rushing through me.
If I was going to sacrifice time with my daughter for this job, then it would not be under these circumstances. Marching toward my project manager, I only stopped once there were inches between us, and I said calmly but sternly, “If you ever speak to me in that tone again, I will file a complaint against you. If you ever undermine my decisions again, I will file a complaint against you. Every time you step out of line with me, Scott, I am going to be there with HR on your arse, making your life miserable. Because I will not let an arrogant misogynist ruin a job that I love, a job I happen to be bloody excellent at. Are we clear?”
Scott blinked at me, stunned. Then he sneered, “If anyone should put in a complaint, it should be me. Your husband and daughter here? On a construction site. Really?”
Enough.
“Try me,” I hissed in his face. “Try pushing me, Scott. Because I’m done taking your shit, and I’ve faced bigger and badder in this job, believe me, and I came out winning. In fact, let’s just put this to rest. The next project that comes up, I will make sure you and I are not on it together. Until then, we have to deal with each other. I can be professional. Can you?” I walked away, striding toward two of my fellers to discuss progress.
I left Scott gaping like a goldfish behind me.
The next morning, I woke up to the relief of knowing it was a Saturday. What I didn’t wake up to was my husband’s warm, hard body wrapped around mine. Grumbling under my breath, I threw off the covers and got up, thinking Skye must have woken him. I hit the remote on our blinds and they rose, letting the dull morning light spill into the room.
The clouds hung low over the North Sea beyond our windows, and I cursed the imminent rain because I’d planned to take Skye to the petting zoo at John O’Groats today. It was a bit of a journey, but she was great in the car.
Padding down the hall in my slippers, I peeked into her bedroom and found it empty. As I drew closer to the stairs, I heard Skye’s giggles and Mackennon’s deep murmur. What I hadn’t expected when I descended into our open-plan living and kitchen area was to discover sheets draped over furniture, creating lots of tents.
Mackennon and Skye were nowhere in sight.
Laughter bubbled on my lips. “And what’s all this?”
“Is that Mum?” Mackennon’s voice sounded from beneath a sheet between the armchair and sofa.
“Mummy!” Skye squealed. “Mummy, hide!”
Grinning, I followed her voice and got down on my hands and knees. Sure enough, inside the makeshift tent, Skye hobbled along on wobbly legs back and forth to collect toys she’d scattered everywhere. Mackennon laid on his back as Skye rested her toys along his torso, one by one.