“How long has the band been together?”
“Steven and Dunk—Duncan—go way back, even to high school. At one time, they had a garage band. Then Steven heard Mike on the bagpipes at a festival and figured rock bands were a dime a dozen, but a niche like Celtic could really go places. Mike knew Jamie and that’s how they were formed. I joined a couple of years later.”
Walking past the food trucks, she was assaulted by the scents, and her stomach growled. Clay grinned and asked, “What would you like?”
Glancing at the menus, she gushed, “I’d love a Scotch Egg and a beer. Nothing dark, just a pale ale.”
They moved through the line together and he placed the order. A few minutes later, she bit into the fried sausage-covered hard-boiled egg and moaned in delight. “I was so hungry.” She swallowed the bite, wiping her mouth with her napkin. “God, that’s so good.”
Laughing, he said, “Glad I could make you happy.”
As they walked past the vendor tents, her hand was linked with his. The woolen goods, silver jewelry, Scottish plaids, sweaters and hats, and a myriad of other items were all displayed. She stopped at a silversmith’s booth, fingering a few of the Celtic cross earrings and necklaces. Glancing at the price, she moved on past, her gaze drifting over the butter-soft wool scarves.
Her perusal was interrupted from loud cheering coming from the athletic field, and she twisted her head to look up at Clay. “What’s going on?”
His brow furrowed as he asked, “Have you ever seen the heavy athletics?” She shook her head, and he continued, “I thought you’d be used to Celtic festivals.”
Shrugging, she sipped her beer as they continued walking toward the field. “We usually just get to the stage area, set up and tune, and then play our set. We often leave without even eating. For me, this is a real treat.”
His gaze shot past her back to the vendor booths before he grinned and said, “Come on, let’s find my friends. There will be room at the athletic field for us.”
“All of those people that were around you in the tent were your friends?”
“Yeah, and I know the rest of them would love to meet you.”
They made their way to the stands, and he held onto her arm carefully as she teetered up the steps. Maneuvering down the row to where she recognized some of his friends, she started to sit, but Clay kept his arm around her.
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Christina. You just saw her as the band’s fiddle player, but she’s also the concert violinist that I’ve been seeing.”
Eyes wide, she tried to follow as he introduced the men and women in the large group filling the area.
“Don’t try to remember all our names,” one of the women said, smiling warmly.
She recognized her as being with the boss, Mace. “It’s nice to meet all of you.” Accepting the congratulations on the band’s music, she was relieved when everyone shifted, and she and Clay could sit. It didn’t take long for her to learn that one of Clay’s best friends was Tate, and his wife, Nora, was sitting next to them. Directly behind were Walker and Julie, Blake and Sara, and Levi and Claire. Babs and her husband, Drew, were sitting in front of them. On the other side were Rank and Helena. There were others, but the mass of testosterone and beautiful women around all seemed like a blur.
Now, with her eyes on the field, she watched the athletic competitions. The crowd cheered for each competitor, and she soon learned about the different Highland games. Twisting her head toward Clay, she said, “I can’t believe I’ve never watched any of this. I’ve only been with the band for two years, but we’ve been to a bunch of Celtic festivals. I’ve never stayed to enjoy anything other than just our own music.”
“Stay here,” Clay said. “I’m going to run and get a funnel cake.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“Nope. You and your feet need to rest. After the performance you gave, I can only imagine your toes are screaming.”
Crinkling her nose, she said, “You’re not far from the truth.”
Squeezing her shoulder, he kissed her lightly. “I’ll be right back.” Getting some orders from the others, he and a couple of the men headed toward the food trucks.
The seat gaps around her quickly filled in by the women who slid closer.
“It’s so nice to finally meet the woman Clay has been dating,” Babs said. “I told him he needed to bring you around.”
“He’s mentioned me?”
“Well, we don’t have a lot of secrets amongst us,” Helena said.
“And everyone works with a security company?”
She watched as the women’s eyes shifted back and forth amongst themselves, and Sylvie simply replied, “Yes.”
That one-word answer seemed to be the cue that she shouldn’t ask any more questions about Clay’s work. Now feeling self-conscious, she turned her attention back to the field where the athletes were ready for the caber toss. It reminded her of when she first joined the orchestra and felt as though ‘New kid on the block’ should be tattooed on her forehead. At least then, her musical ability gave her a way to gain the acceptance of the others in the violin section. But now, she felt out of place with the group of women who all seemed close.
A touch on her arm drew her attention toward Julie. Cocking her head slightly, she waited to see what the other woman had to say.
“I know this is a lot to take in,” Julie said. “Most of what they do, they don’t talk about. So, please, don’t feel self-conscious or left out.”
Her smile stayed but felt more genuine as she said, “Thanks for that. Clay and I are still new.”
“Just remember to duck when the bullets start flying,” Babs said from behind.
“Bullets?”
“Oh, ignore Babs,” Sylvie said. “She’s exaggerating.”
“Exaggerating?” Babs said, rolling her eyes. “These men have a type of woman that catches their eye. And that type usually means exciting things happen!”
Brow lowering, Christina shook her head slowly. The idea that she didn’t fit slithered in deeper. “Then I’m afraid I don’t fit that type. Believe me, all I do is play the violin.”
Before the women had a chance to say anything else, the men came back, their arms loaded with sodas and funnel cakes. Thrilled when Clay settled close to her, their legs touching, she accepted the paper plate from his outstretched hands. Munching on the fried, sweet goodness, trying not to breathe in all the powdered sugar, she mumbled, “This is delicious.”
Clay scooted closer, his gaze holding hers as he leaned forward and gave her a sugar-coated kiss. Smiling widely, she mumbled against his lips, “That’s the sweetest kiss I’ve ever had.” He chuckled, and she decided kissing him while he smiled was even better.
9
“Do you have to go back tonight?” Clay asked as he escorted her to his SUV, his arm slung about her shoulders.
“Back? To Portland?”
Nodding, he said, “Yeah.”
She cocked her head to the side, unsure what he was really asking. “What did you have in mind?”