Fairytale Come Alive (Ghosts and Reincarnation #4)(34)

She lifted her brows at Prentice who still looked angry but he stepped forward and took her bag from her. She started to tighten her hold on it but realized it would be silly to wrestle over a grocery bag so she let go.

He moved to the side, motioning with a wide sweep of his arm that she should precede him and she quickly did so, dragging the lagging Sally, who still had hold of her hand, with her.

She and Sally hit the great room, Mikey and Prentice following and she saw Jason was on the couch, his feet flung over the back, a book in his hands.

His eyes came to her.

“Hey, Mrs. Evangelista.”

“Hello, Jason.”

“What is this Mrs. Evangelista business?” Mikey asked, going directly to the kitchen counter and dumping his bag. “She’s feeding you. You should call her Bella.”

“Mikey,” Isabella said, again in a warning tone and Sally danced to the kitchen, climbing up on a stool and rooting through the bag.

“What? Seriously, you’ve twice now bought them a boatload of food,” Mikey returned.

Prentice was also depositing his bag in the kitchen and his head came around, his eyes pinning Isabella.

Well, one could say that Mikey didn’t waste any time with creating havoc.

Then again, he never did.

“I thought Annie bought the food,” Prentice said in a voice that was deeper, thus obviously not so happy.

Isabella opened her mouth to speak but Mikey, unfortunately, beat her to it.

“You didn’t buy that did you?”

Prentice’s eyes narrowed and Isabella wondered if Prentice would find it untoward if, in front of his children, she took off her pump and threw it at Mikey.

She figured he would.

Therefore, Isabella decided to ignore any of this was happening and focus on dinner.

And nothing but dinner.

Except maybe Sally.

And, of course, Jason.

“I’m going to get changed before I cook,” Isabella announced and turned to her friend. “Mikey, come with me to see the pretty guest suite that –”

“No, darling, I’m going to stay here. Unpack groceries. Examine Sally’s fabulous manicure. Tour this spectacular house.” He grinned at Isabella. “Take your time.”

Well, maybe she couldn’t ignore everything and focus on dinner because she sure as heck couldn’t leave Mikey alone with Prentice and his family.

“Really, Mikey, you need to see the guest suite. It’s lovely,” she pressed.

“Really, darling, I need a cocktail.” He turned to Prentice. “What do you have to drink around here?”

“Whisky,” Prentice replied shortly, having come to the edge of the counter that led to the great room and leaned a hip against it, arms crossed, face closed, now so, very (and obviously) not so happy.

Mikey stared at him and waited for his list of other alcoholic beverages on the premises that were available to be consumed to continue.

Prentice didn’t say another word.

“Whisky it is then,” Mikey muttered.

Prentice walked to the study.

Isabella made a split second decision and followed.

At the double doors, she grabbed one doorknob then reached for the other, leveled her eyes on Mikey and mouthed, “Stay and be good.”

She closed the doors and turned to Prentice.

His side was to her but his neck was twisted so he could face her. He still didn’t look happy.

She couldn’t stop herself from licking her lips. Prentice’s eyes dropped to her mouth.

She caught her breath, crossed her arms on her middle and hugged her elbows.

Then she launched in, “I’m sorry about Mikey. He can be a bit overwhelming.”

Without a word, Prentice turned toward a cabinet, opened it and pulled out two glasses and a very good bottle of whisky that was also mostly empty.

“He can be overprotective,” she went on as Prentice poured the whisky but he still didn’t speak.

Isabella continued, “And he doesn’t fancy Robert or Richard and I think he’s kind of bored at Fergus’s house, considering Annie spends most of her time with Dougal… when she’s not wedding planning, that is.”

Prentice put away the whisky but he did so silently.

Once he was done, he turned to face her.

“It’ll be okay eventually, he’ll calm down. You just can’t,” she hesitated. “listen to anything he says.” She paused again. “Or take him seriously.” She drew in breath before she finished, “At all.”

Prentice remained silent and simply regarded her.

“I’ll buy you more whisky,” she told him.

Prentice finally spoke. “I think you’ve bought enough, don’t you?”

Oh dear.

He wasn’t happy about the groceries.

But he wasn’t done.

His eyes swept her from top-to-toe and then they settled on her face, “Go get changed, Isabella. You’re in a family home in the wilds of Scotland, not about to step out with the glitterati.”

There it was again. The non-physical slap. She barely held back a flinch but she managed it.

“Of course,” she muttered, starting to turn to the door.

“It makes me wonder,” Prentice started conversationally, she turned back and saw his gaze was speculative.