As heir to Ardinmuir, Connor MacKean had one job: fulfill the marriage pact that’s held his family captive for three-hundred years. Except his sister’s the one who took the plunge, and now there’s nothing standing in the way of him finding a real and lasting love. Nothing except the fact that the object of his affections has never seen him as anything more than her best friend’s little brother.
A hard-working Cinderella who doesn’t need a prince
The last thing Sophie Cameron has time for is a man. Her days are full keeping her flower shop afloat, expanding the event planning business she opened with her best friend, and keeping the promise she made to her late father to take care of her stepmother–even though Lorraine is more like a stepmonster.
A fake engagement that’s more real than either of them bargained for
The little white lie Connor told a former fling to escape his playboy reputation becomes a necessary reality when she shows up as maid of honor to plan a wedding at the estate. As a huge social media influencer, she could make or break Ardinmuir as a wedding destination, so Sophie agrees to pretend to be Connor’s fiancée. But as the lines between fiction and reality blur, Sophie begins to wonder if he’s the answer to the fairy tale she doesn’t think she deserves.
“I thank ye so much for staying open late for me today.”
Sophie Cameron beamed a smile at the elderly gentleman on the other side of the counter. “Of course, Mr. Fraser. I’m just relieved everything turned out all right at your doctor’s appointment.”
William narrowed faded blue eyes and grimaced. “Bunch o’ bother and nonsense. I’m healthy as a horse. But the missus insists they do the tests to prove it.”
“As well she should. You’re a catch. She’d never find the like of you again.”
Her elderly customer blushed up to the tips of his ears.
At eighty-two-years young, William Fraser had been married to his wife, Hettie, for sixty-one years. The two of them still had regular date nights in the village and could frequently be seen walking the high street hand-in-hand. Every week, like clockwork, William stopped at Sophie’s flower shop and bought a bouquet of Hettie’s favorite blooms. As far as Sophie was concerned, the pair of them were #relationshipgoals, and she adored having the privilege of helping him bring a little brightness and love to his wife. It was the least she could do for the man who’d been her most regular customer since she’d bought Village Blume from her boss, Agnes McNeary, years before.
She handed over this week’s clutch of hothouse tulips in a vibrant shade of pink. “These are sure to help combat the dreary skies.”
“Aye, that they will. See you next week, lass.”
“I look forward to it, as always. Tell Mrs. Fraser I said hello.”
“I’ll do that.”
After seeing Mr. Fraser off, Sophie finally turned the sign in the front window to Closed and went through the usual routine to lock up for the night. It didn’t take long. She’d already cleared her workstations in the back while she’d been waiting for William to arrive, so she only needed to shut down the POS system and review tomorrow’s list of arrangements. After checking one last time to make certain the cooler where she kept her stock was closed, she locked the door. For a fleeting moment, she considered walking up to The Stag’s Head pub for supper. She was exhausted. But she still had a few hours’ work to do for her second job, so she opted to head home and put together a sandwich and cuppa soup to eat at her computer.
Darkness fell so early in the Highlands this time of year. Not that it stopped the residents of Glenlaig from getting out and about. Sophie nodded in greeting to the many familiar faces she passed on the walk home. She loved that. Loved living in a village small enough to know most everyone. Or feel like she did, at least. It meant that she was witness to all the joys of her friends and neighbors. The births, the weddings, the anniversaries, the celebrations. And she was there to pay respects at the tragedies. The deaths. The illnesses. Flowers had the power to mark all of it. It was a big part of why she loved them. Why she’d chosen them as a career. There was too much ugliness in the world, and she wanted to combat that with joy.
Of course, having a flower shop in a small Highland village didn’t exactly make her flush with cash. Which was why she still lived at home with her stepmother. And also why she and her best friend, Kyla MacKean, had started an event planning business around Kyla’s home estate of Ardinmuir. A centuries-old castle made for a hell of a backdrop for weddings. They’d even hosted a couple of retirement parties and a bat mitzvah so far. The business had gotten off to a bumpy start, but they were finally in the black. Not enough to make a huge difference to her personal bottom line. Not yet. But they’d been able to expand enough to hire some part-time staff, which was necessary to keep them both sane.
Chilled through by the end of the half-mile walk to the house, Sophie was looking forward to that soup. And maybe even a long, hot bath, if there was time before settling in for work and a cuddle with Cori, her ancient Grand Dame of a cat. She carefully stomped the snow off her shoes before letting herself inside. Out of long habit, she slipped the shoes off and put them in the drip tray.
“Sophie? Is that you?”
Lorraine’s voice called out from the lounge, and Sophie knew by the wheedling, faux-frail tone that her plans for the evening had just gone up in smoke.
Tension lodged itself between her shoulders. Of course it’s me. Who the bloody hell else has a key?
Breathing through the frustration, she modulated her tone. “Yes, Mum.”
“Come here.”
Never a “please.” Just a demand.
Sophie flexed her hands into fists, then released them again as she went to see what her stepmother wanted.
Lorraine was sprawled out on the sofa in what Sophie privately thought of as her Fainting Couch pose. She looked like the heroine in some old silver screen movie, stretched out with a forearm draped across her brow. A blanket was draped over her lap, and a plate with the remains of whatever her dinner had been sat on the coffee table, next to an assortment of glasses and evidence of multiple snacks. Evidently, she’d been camped out here for a while.
“Be a dear and clear all this away, and make me a cuppa tea. I just canna make it to the kitchen again.”
Sophie wondered what today’s ailment was. So many of them felt performative. She’d never called Lorraine on any of it. She didn’t live in the other woman’s body or head. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps her stepmother did actually suffer from a myriad of chronic illnesses and deserved the disability check she got from the government every month, though Sophie had never seen any medical documentation to that effect. Still, she’d made a deathbed promise to her father to take care of Lorraine, and that’s what she’d done all these years.
Thinking of him and his big, booming laugh, and the hugs that had made her feel safe, no matter what was going on in her world, Sophie gathered up the dishes and headed for the kitchen. She stopped dead at the sight of it. No wonder Lorraine couldn’t make it to the kitchen again. It appeared that whatever she’d made had required the dirtying of every pot, pan, and dish in the house. The stove, the table, and every counter were covered. And there was Coriander, crouched over a dish, tan tabby-striped tail twitching as she licked.
Sophie leapt forward, scooping her baby up and out of prospective harm’s way. Please let her not have eaten something that will make her sick.
Cori yowled in protest at being kept from her feast.
“You know you’re not supposed to be on the counters or table.”
Her yellow-green eyes narrowed in displeasure as if to say, “It’s hardly my fault Lorraine left all this temptation in my path.”
As if hearing the thought, Lorraine called, “Oh, and do the washing up while you’re in there.”
Sophie fought not to grind her teeth. Her stepmother always had the energy to make the messes but never to clean them. But she bit back the bitterness, knowing it would do no good to express her frustrations. Opening a tin of Cori’s proper food, she set her beloved girl on the floor and went to put on the kettle. This mess would have to be sorted before she could even fix her own supper. But perhaps there’d be some sort of leftovers in the fridge from this grand kitchen disaster. Tugging open the door, she found none. How on earth had Lorraine dirtied up so many dishes for something with only enough for her to eat? Disgusted and even more exhausted, Sophie doused a tea bag in boiling water and rolled up her sleeves to load the dishwasher. After a brief pause to deliver the tea, she dove into the rest.
It took nearly an hour to get through the pile, washing and drying and putting away, during which Cori finished only a few bites of her own food before disappearing in a feline huff. Frustration and resentments simmered with every piece of cookery equipment Sophie returned to its rightful place. By the time she’d finished, she didn’t even have the energy to assemble a sandwich. Grabbing an apple from a bowl on the counter and a granola bar from the cupboard, she quietly made her way upstairs to dive into work. Pulling up the email for Ardinmuir Event Planning, she responded to a few brides with updated floral design suggestions; revised a seating chart in accordance with the news that an upcoming groom’s mother had remarried, and he was afraid she’d make a scene with her new, younger, trophy husband; and updated some spreadsheets based on vendor quotes. Cori wandered over and circled in her lap twice before settling in, half on the edge of the laptop. Wiggling the computer a little, Sophie managed to toggle over to the website and answer a new query from an American bride about booking a consultation for a destination wedding. By the time she’d gotten through all of that, her brain was fuzzy with fatigue. Everything else would have to wait until tomorrow. Maybe she could carve out a little time to work at the shop once she’d finished prepping the arrangements for the day.
Before logging out, she opened up her personal spreadsheet, entering the daily income totals and expenses for Village Blume and checking the column that auto-calculated exactly how long it would be until she could afford rent and living expenses on top of the rent for the shop itself. The goal was closer than it had ever been. Another six months. Nine, maybe, depending on how the event planning business went. Then she’d finally have the chance to be out on her own.
She’d been working her ass off toward this for years now, and seeing the progress she’d made left her with a deep sense of satisfaction beneath the exhaustion. She wondered if she could sneak downstairs for a glass of wine before bed. That seemed a fitting, small celebration.
But before she could even shut the laptop for the night, she heard Lorraine calling her name again.
Fighting down the frustration, she took a half-dozen slow, deep breaths.
Just six more months. I’ve done this for fourteen years now. I can do it for six more months.
Fixing a neutral smile in place, she set Cori aside and got up to see what her stepmonster wanted now.
I’m LOVING this series, Kati Nolan is doin’ a truly braw job! 😁🏴
I must admit, when I read ‘Jilting the Kilt’ I wasn’t entirely sure I was gonna like Connor. My opinion of him changed pretty quickly when I read Cowboy in a Kilt and saw what his responsibilities and possible future had looked like, then in Playboy in a Kilt seeing things from his POV and getting a real insight into him made me like him a lot!!!
I liked that he didn’t stay close to home when he did meet up with women and got his thought process about his ONS and how he thought his life was gonna be after he married Afton. When all of that changed Connor was able to actually consider what and who he wanted and was free to pursue something more and for it to be real and meaningful.
Sophie… Lordy, I felt so much for her. Her stubbornness and independence were a double edged sword (something Connor would know about – there’s an in-joke there!!). Getting to see how her life was, how hard she worked then all she had to contend with in her private life was sad. Yeah, she had great friends but the gods, she dealt with so much alone without any complaining, she deserved all the good things Connor wanted to give her.
Connor’s mouth running was both actually kind of a blessing. Things progressed in a manner that Sophie got what she needed but just now how she envisioned things. This pair had a chemistry that they both tried to ignore. I loved Connor’s honesty about how he felt (until he **cked up).
I enjoy how this group has come together to make a family of blood & choice. Seeing everyone interact and catching up on the relationships that have formed so far makes for good reading. There were a couple of times that I was pretty peeved with Kyla and her attitude towards her brother and her opinion on what Sophie was thinking but not to the extent that it took away from the story.
We got a little more on a character from one of the future books in the series and I’m now really looking forward to Ewan’s book…. Think that’s gonna be an interesting one!!!!
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
About the Author
Kait Nolan is a USA Today best-selling and RITA® Award-winning Mississippi author who calls everyone sugar, honey, or darlin’, and can wield a ‘Bless your heart’ like a Snuggie or a saber, depending on requirements. She believes in love, laughter, and that tacos are the world’s most perfect food. When she’s not writing, reading, or wrangling family (both the two-legged and the four-), you can find her obsessively watching The Great British Bake Off.
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