He’s not wearing…” Charlotte began.
“I know. He doesn’t,” Lydia answered.

Lydia had been fantasizing about him to the point she nearly drove him insane with it. It had taken four days for his energy to weaken inside her enough that he could go and visit her without fear she would throw him across the town in a gust of wind, and thus cause a scene. Although, getting run out of town after one day would be a new MacGregor record.

There ya are.” Erik grinned at her as he came bounding down the steps two at a time. He stepped around his statue of a sister as if such a thing were normal. Perhaps here it was. He paused, nodding at Malina. “Morning, banshee.” He gave a small brotherly laugh and poked his thumb toward her face. “She does kind of look like a banshee with her hair flying around like that and her mouth all open. Yeah, ma froze her good. See how her eyes don’t move?” Erik leaned closer to her and grinned as he looked into her mouth. “Ha, Euann put a mint in there.

Ly-di-ah! I sit beneath your window, laaaass, singing ’cause I loooove your a—”
“For the love of St. Francis of Assisi, someone call a vet. There is an injured animal screaming in pain outside,” Charlotte interrupted the flow of music in ill-humor.

He kissed the corner of her lips before whispering by her ear, “And that was just my hand, love.

A stóirín, ya are a handful of trouble, but I kind of like it.