#6 Family Feud

Eilidh POV

I opened my mouth to ask my folks a question, but stopped when a shadow fell across us. “Problem?” We all turned. Callum MacAllister stood a few paces away, hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed like he hadn’t just walked into enemy territory. His eyes flicked from my parents to me, lingering there a beat longer than was polite.

“Not at all,” I said before either of them could speak. “Just family business.”

Da’s voice dropped lower, colder. “This conversation is over.” Callum ignored him completely. “Didn’t get my chance tae dance with ye,” he said to me, his tone casual but his gaze anything but. “Seemed only fair.”

Ma’s lips pressed so tight they turned white. “The lady’s occupied.” I tilted my head defiantly, holding Callum’s stare. “I’m not.”

His mouth curved, just slightly, like he’d won something. He extended a hand. “Then what do ye say, lass?” Behind me, Da muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like over my dead body. But I slid my fingers into Callum’s anyway, feeling the strength there, that spark that made my pulse skip.

Callum’s grin deepened. “That’s what I thought.” And with my parents’ disapproval burning into my back, he led me toward the floor. The moment we stepped onto the dance floor, the string quartet slid into something slow and steady, each note hanging heavy in the air.

Callum’s hand found the small of my back, firm but careful, like he knew exactly where to hold a woman to guide her without pushing. His other hand cradled mine, his thumb brushing over my knuckles just once before settling. “Ye’ve got yer parents glarin’ holes in my back,” he said, voice low, almost amused. I smirked. “Aye, I noticed.”

“That usual for ye?”

“Only when I’m doin’ somethin’ they think I shouldn’t.” His mouth twitched. “And ye usually listen?” I shook my hair out slowly, my lips curving in a way that was not a yes. We turned with the music, his movements smooth and precise, the kind of control that made me wonder what else he could do with that kind of focus.

“So,” he said after a moment, “I never caught yer last name.” I arched a brow and grinned slyly.“Does it matter?”

“Maybe,” he replied, a faint smile playing at his lips. “Humor me.”

“MacLeod.” He stopped mid step. It was subtle, just a fraction of a pause, but enough for me to feel the shift in the air. His brows lifted, and then that slow, dangerous grin spread across his face. “Well now,” he said quietly, “that explains a lot.”

“Aye,” I returned. “It explains why my da nearly bit yer head off for askin’ me tae dance.” He laughed under his breath, low and rough. “And here I thought he just didn’t like my face.”

“Maybe it’s both,” I teased, even though I felt the heat creeping up my neck. His grin sharpened. “Guess that makes this even more interestin’.”

“Interestin’?” I echoed. “Aye. Dancin’ with a MacAllister when I’m not supposed tae. Feels… dangerous.” I met his gaze head on. “Good thing I’ve never been one fer playin’ it safe.” We kept moving, our steps perfectly in sync despite the tension twisting between us. Across the room, I caught Kieran watching, his jaw tight, eyes narrowed, not at me, but at his brother.

When the song ended, Callum didn’t let go right away. He bowed slightly, his eyes still locked on mine. “Until next time, lass.” From behind me, I heard Da’s voice, low and cold enough to freeze. “There won’t be a next time.”

I smiled, sweet and innocently, and walked off the floor, knowing damn well there would.

The Next Morning...

The scent of coffee and warm oatcakes drifted through the east dining room, sunlight spilling through the tall windows and turning the polished table into gold. It would’ve been a peaceful morning, if not for the fact my parents were sitting across from me like a royal tribunal.

Da’s hands were braced on the table, his grey eyes sharp as cut steel. Ma sat beside him, perfectly composed in a cream cashmere cardigan, but her expression was no softer. “I’m goin’ tae say this once more, lass,” Duncan began, his brogue heavy. “Ye’ll stay away from the MacAllister brothers. Both of them.”

Across from me, Cat was buttering an oatcake, pretending to be absorbed in her work while her green eyes darted between us like she was front row at the theater. I sipped my coffee slowly. “And why exactly is that, Da? Aside from the ancient family drama ye keep hintin’ at?”

Ma’s voice was low but razor sharp. “It’s nae drama, Eilidh. It’s history. The MacAllisters have cost this family millions over the years. They’ve sabotaged contracts, stolen land, undercut deals we’d been buildin’ fer decades. And they’ve no morals about how they do it.”

Da’s jaw flexed. “Men like that will charm ye while they slip the blade in. Ye might think they’re interested in ye, but they’re after the MacLeod name... and everything it comes with.”

Cat set down her knife and leaned forward with a smirk. “Or maybe,” she said sweetly, “they’re just after her.”

Ma shot her a look that could kill weeds at twenty paces. “This is no game, Catarina.”

“Neither’s life,” Cat countered, unbothered. “And last I checked, Eilidh’s a grown woman who can choose who she dances with.”

Da’s gaze snapped back to me. “Aye, she can. And she can choose tae keep her distance from the enemy.”

“Enemy’s a strong word,” I said lightly, though the tension was coiling tight in my gut.

“Nae strong enough,” Ma replied. “If we’d lost that court case 25 years ago, we’d have lost the estate lands entirely. Ye were just a bairn, but we remember, and so do they.”

Cat leaned back in her chair, swirling her tea. “Well, I, for one, think this sounds a bit like Romeo and Juliet, but with hotter leading men.” I choked back a laugh and got the full force of Da’s glare. “Don’t even think about it, lass.”

I met his stare, keeping my tone calm and even. “Da, I’m not makin’ plans tae marry a MacAllister. It was a dance.”

But even as I said it, I remembered the way Kieran’s smirk had felt like a dare… and the way Callum’s gaze had stripped me bare without a single touch.

And I knew I was lying right out of my ass.