Stirring Up Trouble: A Warlocks MacGregor Novella Read Free Page A

pressed the tartan down on his hip so that there was no hiding the way Donna affected him. Like a schoolboy, he instantly shoved the bag to hang in front of his waist.
    Angus chuckled. “Just think about it. Oh, and your dog is eating the basket. Ya might want to take him outside. Traitor might be immortal thanks to your spells, but even I am sure he’s not supposed to eat garlic. The whole front hall reeks of it.”
    Reminded of the taste, Fergus again grabbed the whiskey.

Chapter 2
    D onna hummed softly to herself , smiling brightly for anyone to see as she made her way down the long MacGregor mansion drive. She didn’t know the song, but it didn’t matter. The bagpipes and violins in her head filled her spirit and made her happy. The world was a wonderful, glorious place, and today was a brilliant day.
    What a nice man. She paused, realizing she didn’t know the last Mr. MacGregor’s name. He had kind eyes. Mr. Kind Eyes MacGregor. Such a friendly disposition too.
    They really were an attractive family. She’d met most of them briefly—some in town, others when she’d dropped off her gifts. The genetic pool had been kind to them. Money and good breeding probably helped.
    Good breeding? Did people still say good breeding? Donna wondered at the antiquated thought.
    The snow crunched beneath her feet. She glanced back to see the mansion disappearing behind the snowy hill. The Georgian was so pretty and majestic, overlooking the town that sprawled over the valley on one side, with the forest on the other. The house had sat abandoned nearly her entire life, remaining dormant until the MacGregors purchased it several months before. Everyone in town knew the story of the displaced English lord who’d come to Wisconsin in disgrace to build the estate. Children used to dare each other to roam the gardens at night, telling stories of how the mansion was haunted. Then, as teenagers, young couples would sneak up to be alone. It was a constant backdrop to their small town life, a landmark. In a way, the people of the town had always looked up at that mansion and felt its dominating presence. Now, when they looked up, they thought of the MacGregor family.
    “Such a nice family,” she said to herself before humming again. “Such a nice man.”
    With each step, her smile dropped by the smallest degree and the song began to fade until she stood at the end of the drive on the slushy street. Suddenly, the cold seeped into her toes, as if only now her nerve endings worked. Her humming stopped, as did the music in her head.
    Frowning in confusion, she looked up the drive. Her gaze followed her tracks. Did she just deliver…cookies? To the surly Scottish neighbor?
    What the hell was wrong with her? Cookies? Fucking cookies?
    Donna wasn’t sure what was worse. The fact she couldn’t remember why she’d felt compelled to deliver food to the neighbors. The fact this wasn’t the first time it had happened. Or the fact no one should eat anything that came out of her kitchen. Ever. It should be illegal for her to even own an oven.
    Why was she trying to feed the wealthy neighbors? It’s not like they needed her charity. They were the town gazillion-something-aires. And, if she was so compelled to take them baked goods, why didn’t she just go to the bakery and pick something up?
    And what was with that last MacGregor guy? Like the others, he was handsome, maybe too handsome. The gray at his temples added the impression of wisdom. That same notion was reflected in his eyes. He had the face and body of a fantasy. The kilt didn’t hurt that image either. Unfortunately, with his wise gaze had come a bit of a condescending annoyance when she’d spoken to him. He’d just stared at her, acting like everything that came out of her mouth was idiotic.
    Well, to be fair, everything out her mouth had been idiotic.
    Had she really told him the story of dreaming she was a dog chewing on shoes? It wasn’t as if that was an anecdote she