“Yes, that’s so,” she retorted.

What? What kind of weak comeback was that?

He was holding her heels, their straps slid over two of his thick fingers, and Portia had no idea why the sight of it prompted a pulse of want in her.

“I suppose this is your heroine pose, for when you’re out impulsively saving strangers,” he said, his dark brows arching upward. “Freckles McGee, vigilante at large.”

His tone was dry, but his gaze slid over her body like a pour of molten metal. She was already sweating, and looks like that didn’t help. Neither did the fact that the sleeves of his Henley shirt were pushed up to the elbow, revealing his veined wrists and forearms.

She reached out and snagged her heels from him, suppressing the shiver that went through her as their fingers brushed. “Yes. I’ve been busy keeping Edinburgh’s streets safe from the likes of the villainous . . . Knife Man.”

Tavish blinked several times. “Knife Man?”

“You had a knife this morning,” she said stubbornly. “You are a man. Knife Man.”

Jamie and Cheryl burst out laughing beside her. Tavish rolled his eyes and wiped his hands against his jeans and she noticed that Thigh Man would have also been a good name for him.

“Jamie, are we going to talk details of my schedule now?” she asked, turning away from Tavish. “Do I get to make a sword soon?”

Jamie looked sheepish. “We’re gonna start off slow, I think. Data entry is almost as fun as swordmaking, right?”

He elbowed Cheryl.

“Totally as good,” Cheryl said cheerily, but shook her head and gave a thumbs-down as soon as Jamie looked away from her.

“It’ll be a wee bit before you’re allowed to work with sharp objects,” Tavish cut in, drawing her attention back to him, though it hadn’t wandered far. “Especially since I’m the one who has to train you for that. Let’s see if you can go a week without doing me bodily harm and then I’ll consider it.”

She had messed up, badly, but she wasn’t down with being infantilized for the next three months because of it.

“A keyboard is a dangerous thing in the right hands, too, you know,” Portia said.

“I agree. Jamie for instance, used a keyboard to place the apprenticeship advert, and look what that got me.” He gestured in her general direction.

Portia faltered; Tav’s verbal jab had hit a soft spot, one that had been hidden under a sea of distractions for years and had only just begun to harden. She had no witty comeback for someone telling her they didn’t want her around. It reinforced what that ugly voice in the back of her head whispered at the most inopportune moments: no one would care if you left and never came back.

“You really are a wanker,” Cheryl said with a tsk, moving closer to Portia. She rested her hand on Portia’s back, not even pulling it away when it landed on a damp sweaty spot.

Jamie came to stand at her other side. “He’s always been like this, you know. I’m pretty sure my first words were ‘Mum, Tav is a right wanker, aye?’ And her reply was, ‘Yes, son. Su hermano is the one true wanker, the wanker to rule them all.’”

Cheryl giggled and Tav rolled his eyes. “Why are you bringing Mum into this? And why are you both surrounding her like I’m the threat? Might I remind you that I was the one attacked today?”

“Do you fancy some dinner, Portia?” Cheryl asked, ignoring Tavish. “I have some Char Siu pork in the slow cooker.”

She kissed her fingertips and threw her hand up to the sky, the universal expression of “this is going to be fucking delicious.”

“Cheryl runs the little restaurant out front, Doctor Hu’s,” Jamie said. “Trust me, you want this dinner.”

Portia had planned to pick up something from the chip shop, aptly named Chip Shop, that she’d spotted down the street, and eat it in her room. Companionship and home-cooked food were unexpected surprises, and pork was clearly the only protein she should be thinking of to satisfy her cravings.

Cheryl bit her lip and fidgeted a bit. “I just thought it would be nice to welcome you properly. I understand if you have other plans, though, or you don’t want to.”

Portia had thought of her apprenticeship from so many different angles, but she hadn’t factored in new friendships. Not really. Actual humans had kind of been hazy peripheral players in her journey, but now Cheryl and Jamie were standing there looking at her expectantly and she realized she’d made a huge miscalculation.

“Dinner would be lovely. Thank you, Cheryl.”

“Yes, yes, it would be,” Tavish said in a mockingly formal voice. “Assuming my place hasn’t been usurped?”

“Of course not,” Cheryl said, patting his shoulder reassuringly. “Even wankers need delicious slow-cooked meat.”

“I’ll be there after this lesson, then,” he said, then walked toward the center of the gym. Portia looked away from him and noticed several kids sitting on the bleachers, fencing masks atop their heads.

“All right, young squires. Are you ready for your lessons?” Tav asked in a booming voice.

“Yes, Master Tav!” the kids replied obediently, but many were bouncing in their seats.

“People entrust him with their children?” Portia remembered he’d mentioned a program for kids but seeing it in action was different.