Off Kilter. Donna Kauffman

with Kira.”

      She walked around him, with no intention of looking back, no matter the provocation.

      “I’m glad you did, you know.”

      Dammit. She kept on walking, then swore under her breath and stopped. Without turning around, she said, “Did what?”

      “Took a break. You picked a good place for it. We’re happy to take ye in, Tessa. You’ll always be welcomed on Kinloch. No matter what.” Amusement entered his voice as he added, “We’ve a thing for misfits.” Then, a beat later, with humor still clear in his tone, he added, “I should know.”

      She wanted badly to turn around. How could he think he knew anything about being a misfit? He’d been born and raised in the bosom of a loving, tightly woven community. As far as she could tell, he’d flourished under that umbrella of adoration and support, and seemed quite happy with himself and content in his life, whatever it was he actually did around there. Misfit? She didn’t think so. And she did know. She was an expert on the subject.

      She managed to hold her tongue and continued walking. “Good,” she called back, without looking over her shoulder. “Then, one misfit to another, you won’t be insulted if I just walk away now.”

      She heard him chuckle. And damn if she wasn’t smiling as she continued on her way.