Lingerie Wars (The Invertary books) (43 page)

Kirsty stilled. Slowly, she pursed her lips into a thin, suspicious smile.

Kirsty smiled at Dougal as the crowd roared with applause and cheers of congratulations. She'd won the show? She'd won the bet? She didn't think so. She'd been right. Lake was back and he was up to something. This whole setup screamed his involvement. If there was a chance to be centre of attention he jumped at it. And, as usual, he'd roped her in too. Kirsty didn't care what he was up to; she had no intention of being a puppet in Lake's show. Although her betraying heart didn't agree. Her betraying heart did the happy dance inside her chest at the thought of seeing him again.

"Kirsty," Dougal called to her. "Come on up here."

Her mother nodded her encouragement and Caroline wouldn't look her in the eye. They were both in on it. Kirsty had no other option than to step on the stage and stand beside Dougal.

"Congratulations. It was a close contest, but in the end, you won the Battle Of The Bras by three votes."

Three votes was very close. It was possible she'd won after all. She saw the crinkles at the side of Douglas eyes and knew it was a scam. She gave him a cynical smile to let him know she was on to him.

Dougal cleared his throat and looked away from her.

"Now, to the matter of the bet," he said.

Kirsty's stomach lurched. She remembered quite well what her part in the bet was, she just wasn't sure if Dougal knew and if he was going to broadcast it to the pub. She held her breath.

"For that, we really need the other party," Dougal said. "Lake Benson, come on out here."

The spotlight swung away from the stage and, after wobbling across the ceiling, wall and part of the bar, it steadied on the door to the kitchen. The door swung open and out walked Lake. The wind went out of Kirsty in one almighty whoosh. She had to remind herself to breathe. He was dressed in traditional Scottish garb, from his black waistcoat and tie, to his green tartan kilt, down to his kilt hose. He was stunning.

Stunning. Cocky. Arrogant. And up to no good.

He swaggered to the stage, waving at the crowd and behaving as though he paraded around in the limelight every day of the year. His eyes sought her out and his look burned. Kirsty's mouth went dry. Then her eyes narrowed. This little setup he had going wasn't over yet, and she didn't want to end up the brunt of Invertary jokes until next New Year's. She glared at him, which made him grin. Damn man.

"Lake," Dougal said once the spotlight had found him again. "I'm sorry you lost the competition. Now you might like to sort out that bet."

He handed the microphone to Lake.

"Nice of you to come back," Kirsty said—aware that without a microphone, pretty much only he could hear her. "A phone call would have been nice too."

"I'll explain later," he said, forgetting about the microphone. The crowd hushed, scared they would miss something.

Lake looked at the packed pub and took a deep breath.

"Kirsty Campbell," he said. "As per our bet. I have something to give you."

There were wolf whistles. Dougal grabbed the mic for a minute.

"Get your minds out of the gutter," he ordered the crowd, then signalled Lake to carry on.

"I have here," Lake said as he reached into the pocket in his waistcoat and came out with a white envelope, "the deed to my shop. It's now yours."

There was a moment's silence before the screams of approval deafened them. Lake held the envelope out to Kirsty. She wasn't daft enough not to take it. She snatched it from him. His lip did that thing where he tried not to smile.

"You didn't keep it in your sporran?" she said.

"This thing?" Lake pointed at the sporran with his mic. "I thought it was a penis warmer."

Unfortunately the mic picked up the end of his sentence and hysterics ensued. Dougal tried to call order. Eventually people were quiet. Dougal grabbed the mic, giving Lake a look that told him he'd abused his privilege and wouldn't be allowed to hold it again. Lake grinned and rolled his eyes at Kirsty, which made her take a turn at swallowing a smile.

"Perhaps you would like to explain for the town what this means?" Dougal said.

Then he shoved the mic under Lake's nose, because he wasn't going to risk handing it over again.

"It means that I no longer have a business, or savings. The plans I had are no longer possible. It looks like I'm stuck in Invertary."

Caroline gasped and clasped her heart. She always was a soppy romantic. Kirsty gave her a look that told her she'd deal with her so-called best friend later too. Caroline hung her head in an admission of guilt. Kirsty signalled that she wanted the mic. Dougal held it in front of her.

"Why thank you, Lake," she said loudly. "It's the least you could do. Now, tell me, what exactly will you be doing now that you're stuck in Invertary?" She smiled sweetly as she waved the contract. If he thought he was getting it back, he had another think coming.

The mic went back to Lake. Dougal looked like he was about to burst and answer the question for Lake. It seemed like everyone knew what was going on except Kirsty. Lake gave her that lazy smile that famously wooed women out of their knickers. Kirsty pretended it didn't affect her. His eyes sparkled at her.

"I thought," he said lazily, "that I'd settle down and marry the new owner of the business."

There was screaming, singing, whistles and the odd whoop from the crowd. Lake gave her a confident grin that said he had everything under control. Kirsty was not impressed with his presumptuous attitude—even though the thought of marrying Lake made her knees turn to jelly. She grabbed the microphone from a beaming Dougal.

"What if the new owner doesn't want you, hotshot?" she shouted to be heard over the noise.

There was silence again as everyone turned to Lake. He folded his arms and grinned at her. That smug grin that said he knew better. It made her flush in places that, thankfully, people couldn't see.

"You're not exactly a catch any more," Kirsty carried on. "You don't have any money, or prospects. You're homeless too, unless you plan to move in with Betty. Not to mention you've been gone since before Christmas, without even a phone call. What woman in her right mind would want that?"

"Me!" several women shouted at once.

There was laughter and calls that this was the best New Year's ever. Her mother was trying to tell her off with a look and Caroline held her head in her hands with shame.

"Plus, lest we forget," Kirsty carried on, "you're English." She pointed at his kilt. "The disguise didn't work."

Kirsty opened her mouth to say something else, but Lake leaned towards Dougal.

"We tried it your way," he told him. "Now I'm doing it my way."

He strode towards Kirsty with a gleam in his eye. There was no time to run. In two long steps, he was in front of her. He grinned, bent over, scooped her up, threw her over his shoulder and jumped off the stage.

Kirsty still had the microphone.

"Isn't someone going to do something?" she demanded.

There was laughter and applause.

"Isn't someone going to save me from the English?"

"Enjoy it, lass," someone called. "It's not every day you get an English invasion that looks like that."

Kirsty growled into the microphone.

"Caroline," she shouted. "Do something."

Her best friend shrugged helplessly. As they reached the doors, Kirsty tried one last time.

"Whose side are you lot on, anyway?" she demanded.

"Lake's side," was the unanimous roar.

Then she was outside in the freezing night air, being carted up the high street by the man she loved.

Epilogue

The first day of a new year

"Tell me again why I helped you to win her hand?" Betty demanded of Lake.

To Kirsty's great dismay, she'd discovered that when Lake gave her his shop, he also gave her his underwear mascot.

"Technically, he hasn't won anything," Kirsty said. "For there to be an engagement, there has to be an actual proposal and a declaration of love. Then there has to be an acceptance. None of these things have happened."

They were in the tiny kitchen in the flat above Lake's old shop. They'd squeezed in to eat breakfast, which was pies for Betty and cereal for the people who cared about their arteries. Lake wrapped his arm around Kirsty's waist and pulled her to him. He lowered his head and whispered in her ear.

"I can
show
you how much I love you, if you like?" he whispered, and her heart skipped a beat.

Memories from the night before flashed on the screen inside her head. Delicious.

"Stop canoodling," Betty said.

Kirsty turned to her latest problem. It had been a shock to Kirsty's system when the flat door had thudded open at seven in the morning and Betty had shouted that she'd brought pies. Lake had rolled over, kissed her on the side of the neck and asked her to get him one before he curled back under the duvet. She'd put her feet on the small of his back and kicked him out of bed.

"Hand over your key to the flat," she told the evil one. "I'm not having you walk in any time you like."

Betty folded her arms and shook her head.

"It's my building. I'm keeping the key."

"Lake?" Kirsty said in exasperation.

"You can keep the key if you want to," Lake said.

"Lake!" Kirsty said as she elbowed him.

He grinned mischievously.

"I have to warn you though, Betty, there's a good chance you'll see more than you want when you walk in. You know what newlyweds are like. Insatiable. I expect there will be sex everywhere. In the living room, on the couch..."

Kirsty grinned at him.

"...The hall carpet, and the kitchen counter," she said.

"I eat there!" Betty said in disgust.

"I'm just letting your know what you're in for," Lake said. "Might be a better idea to knock the door first, until the novelty wears off—say, in twenty years or so."

Betty mumbled something under her breath, delved into the hidden pockets in her dress and came out with a key. She thumped it into Kirsty's hand.

"This isn't fair," she grumped.

"But better for all concerned," Kirsty told her.

Betty frowned.

"Who's going to be in charge of the shop now that the two of you are here?" she asked.

From the way she said it you could almost hear her think,
not Kirsty, not Kirsty.

"Me," Kirsty said with delight. "It's my shop now."

"What about the one over the road? That's your shop too. You belong over there. It isn't like you don't have enough to keep you occupied without bothering with this one."

"Actually, I've had some thoughts on that," Lake said as he casually sipped his coffee.

The women gave him their attention. He cleared his throat.

"I thought I'd turn it into a security business," he said.

Kirsty's heart skipped a beat. He really meant to stay.

"With what?" she said. "You don't have any savings, I don't have any insurance and you gave this shop to me."

"I thought I'd use the backroom downstairs first off. Run classes, start the business and as the money comes in we can renovate over the road."

"Where will I design my new lingerie line?" Kirsty said.

"Can't we share the space?" he said with a smile. "It's big enough. I can partition a section off for you."

"Half," Kirsty said.

"A quarter," Lake said.

Her eyes narrowed.

"We'll talk about it."

He pulled her close and whispered in her ear.

"We can negotiate in bed," he promised.

Kirsty doubted those sorts of negotiations would go in her favour. She felt herself melt against him anyway.

"What about me?" Betty grumped. "I don't want to be stuck with the knickers while you do all the fun stuff."

Lake looked towards heaven, it seemed he was counting to ten. Kirsty smiled, she loved this new expressive side of him.

"I thought," Lake told Betty patiently, "that you might like being the security business mascot a little more than being the underwear mascot."

"Do I get to carry a gun?" she said hopefully.

"No."

"Investigate?"

"No."

"Go undercover?"

"No."

"Then what's the bloody point in that then?" she fumed. "I'd rather stay with the lingerie shop. Your business doesn't sound any fun at all."

"I'll let you interrogate people."

"It's a deal," she said with a grin. "Now that's sorted, I'm going home. Cardboard Lake and I are watching the Coronation Street omnibus."

With one last grump she was gone, waddling out of the house like their own wee tartan duck. Lake grinned after her before turning to hug Kirsty. She leaned into him and breathed deeply. So this is what contentment smelled like.