“How are the party plans going?” Callie asked. “Have you decided when and where?”

Anandur looked up from the list of things to buy for the party he was compiling. “I don’t have a final date yet. Several Guardians are already here, and a few more are arriving in the next week or two, but most of them have affairs to settle and will take longer.”

“How about where?”

“I think it’s better to do it in the keep. The guys might get too rowdy for the civilians already living in the village. We can use the gym.”

“Anything I can do? I would gladly cater it.”

“I appreciate the offer, but we are talking Guardians. Your gourmet cooking would be wasted on them. Meat, beer, and more meat, and more beer are what’s needed.”

Callie put down a platter on the table and leaned over his shoulder. “So what have you been scribbling on that yellow pad for the past hour?”

“Party favors.”

“Like poppers and noisemakers?”

“Those too. But I have more serious stuff, like bagpipes and small-pipes and border pipes, fiddles, low whistles, maybe some drums.”

Brundar groaned. “I need to get earplugs.”

Callie put another dish on the table, green beans with some brown sauce on top. “Do many Guardians play an instrument?”

“Most do. Don’t forget we didn’t have television or radio back then. If we wanted entertainment, we had to produce it ourselves.”

“Will there be dancing?” she asked hopefully.

“Aye, sword dancing for sure.”

“Drunken dancing,” Brundar grumbled.

“I would love to see that, and since you’re not inviting anyone other than the Guardians, the only way for me to be there is to cater the food. I can set up a grill and serve steaks and ribs.”

Anandur scratched his beard. “I like that.”

“I don’t. I’m not letting my mate anywhere near a bunch of drunken Guardians.”

“You have a point.” Sober, there was a chance the guys would behave, but not after several bottles of Snake’s Venom. There would be dirty jokes and lewd songs and burps and farts. A Guardian party was no place for a lady.

Callie spooned a big portion of green beans on to her plate. “Can you at least record it? I want to see the sword dance performed by real Highlanders.”

Anandur scratched his head. “I’ll have to ask the lads’ permission. This party is for them. I don’t want their fun censored because they know they are being taped.”

“You’re right.” Callie waved a hand. “Forget I even asked. Let the guys have their uninhibited fun and get as rowdy as they want.”

Brundar speared a chunk of meat on his fork. “Don’t forget that Kri is going to be there, and I’m thinking of inviting Carol too. She is not a Guardian, but she is a trainer now.”

“That’s not a problem. Those two can handle themselves.” What’s more, they had every right to be there.

Kri was a fully-fledged Guardian, and Carol was preparing for a mission more dangerous than any of the Guardians had ever undertaken. The chances of her actually going on that mission were slim, but not because she’d changed her mind about it.

Anandur wasn’t planning on clearing her for the mission until Carol proved she could be as ruthless as the next Guardian, and Kian wouldn’t do it either until they could figure out how to provide her with backup and a way to communicate with them.

“That’s right,” Callie said. “The guys have to accept that they are living in a time where women can do everything men can do.”

Brundar nodded. “The problem is that there were no females on the force when they served.”

“There are now.” Anandur pulled the platter closer and forked a big chunk of beef, put it on his plate, then reluctantly reached for the green beans.

Callie insisted he needed vegetables in his diet.

He scooped three and put them on his plate, carefully placing them on the edge, so they were not touching the meat. It was bad enough he had to eat them; he didn’t want them to contaminate his beef as well. Rolling her eyes, Callie pointed at the bean dish. “You’re like a little kid. It’s not going to kill you to eat some green stuff.”

“I know. I just hate everything about it, from the taste to the texture, to how it feels sliding down my throat.”

He also hated being treated like the kid in the family. Brundar and Callie meant well. They wanted him to feel welcomed and accepted, but they also bugged the hell out of him.

The girl could cook, he had to give her that, but that didn’t give her the right to nag him about eating things he didn’t like.

And Brundar, who’d always been on Anandur’s case about the mess, was even more so now because of Callie. He didn’t want his mate to pick up after his slob of a brother.

And rightfully so. It wasn’t her job.

Anandur didn’t fault Brundar for that, but it was clear that this arrangement was not working for either of them. The mated couple needed their privacy, and he was an old bachelor who was set in his ways and didn’t appreciate being told what to do.

The only one who would ever have that right would be his mate. But since he wasn’t going to find one any time soon, he would rather stick to his old habits than compromise to appease his brother and his brother’s mate.

“I should move out.”

“What?” Callie put a hand to her chest. “Because of the green beans? Forget I said anything.” She waved a hand at the platter of meat. “Eat whatever you want. I promise never to mention the word vegetables again.”

He patted her arm. “It’s not about the veggies, lass. It’s time. I’ve stayed too long as it is.”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to hear a word about it. This is your home. If anyone needs to move out, it’s Brundar and me.”

“Sheesh, Callie, too much drama over nothing. I’m looking forward to moving in with my Guardian buddies and celebrate old times with lots of booze, bad jokes, and loud pipe music.”

Callie pulled out the big cannons; a quivering lower lip and a lone tear sliding down her cheek. “I’m going to miss you. Who is going to tell me jokes? And who is going to update me on all the latest gossip?”

Brundar growled, casting Anandur an angry glare.

The question was whether he was glaring because Callie had said she was going to miss Anandur, or because Anandur had made her cry.

Fates, he hated tears.

“I’m not moving to another continent, lass. I’m going to be right here in the building, and you can see me any time you want. We can meet up at the café every day, and I’ll fill you in on everything that’s going on. Well, not everything, just the juicy tidbits.” He winked.

She wiped the tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. “I have a better idea. I want you to come over for dinner. Every day. And I promise not to bug you about veggies.”

“That’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

“Promise me that you’ll be here every day at seven.”

“Unless I’m on duty, I will be here.”

“I’m going to hold you to it. If you don’t show up, I’ll send Brundar to drag you over.”

“When I make a promise, I keep it.”

“What if you find your mate?” Brundar asked.

“I don’t think there is anything to worry about since it’s not going to happen. But if it does, we will revisit our arrangement. Deal?” He arched a brow at Callie.

“No deal. When you have a mate, you’ll bring her with you. Cooking for four is no different than cooking for three.”

Anandur shook his head. “I said that we would revisit.” He might have been a bachelor, but he knew a thing or two about women. None would appreciate having no say about where they dined and with whom and how often.