I'll See You Again: A Scottish rock star, standalone opposites-attract romance (Reigning Hearts Book 4)

by K. G. Fletcher

  “Sounds wonderful,” Mac interrupted. “As long as ye join us for a wee dram?”

  Nicky pressed her lips together to thwart off a smile, and to stop her jabber. Every single time this man opened his mouth, his accent made her heart pitter-patter. Her dimples begged to make an appearance in a full-throttle smile, and she finally relented, offering the handsome Scot a wide grin. She could feel the indentations of the dimples in her heated cheeks.

  “Very well, then. I’ll be back momentarily with some shots.” Acting the professional hostess was easy because it’s what she did every day in her wedding business. As she started for the door, she hesitated with another thought. “Oh – would you like anything to eat? The Good Pub offers the best hamburger in town, and the wings are hot and spicy…”

  The two men eyed each other with cheeky snickers. Good god, why did she have to put the words ‘hot’ and ‘spicy together in a sentence?

  Mac bit his lower lip and dipped his head in a way only a handsome musician could.

  When he stared right at her, his eyebrow hitched. “Hot and spicy, indeed. But not before a performance. Perhaps ye’ll join us for some later…with that whiskey?”

  Nicky could feel a bead of sweat trickle between her breasts and was tempted to fan herself. Clearing her throat to gain some composure, she stood a little taller. “Sure, Mr. Macpherson. I’d be happy to arrange some food for you and your cousin for after the show.”

  “Lass, call me Mac.”

  Chapter Two

  The only open space left in the pub was the small stage in the corner already set up for the two musicians. Nicky squeezed her way in between standing-room-only patrons to get to the long mahogany bar and sidled up next to Amber, who loaded a tray with a half dozen bottles of craft beer and a couple of drinks in highball glasses. Her friend paused what she was doing to give her a knowing hip-bump.

  “Handsome, right?” she teased.

  “Holy shit, Amber. You got that right,” Nicky yelled above the mob noise. Grabbing two shot glasses, she set them on a small tray before pulling down the pretty bottle of Hillrock whiskey. The warm, light brown color held a tinge of orange and made her mouth water.

  Amber grabbed two more glasses and took the bottle of whiskey from Nicky’s hands, pouring them each a shot. Without saying a word, the two friends looked each other in the eye and smiled before throwing the whiskey back. Amber slammed her glass on the polished wood before hoisting her loaded tray to her shoulder. “Gahhh! That’s so good. Take another shot with the guys, Nicky. I have a feeling you’re gonna need it.” She disappeared into the crowd.

  Shaking her head, Nicky couldn’t help but laugh out loud knowing full well Amber was trying to set her up. She added another clean glass and the entire bottle of Hillrock to the tray, foraged the cooler for a couple of iced-down bottles of water, and started back to the office.

  Rapping her knuckles on the door, she waited. When Mac’s face appeared, she could feel her chest rise. “Here you go.” She walked past him and set the tray on Amber’s desk. “I thought you might want some water, too.”

  “Aye. Thank ye,” Mac replied, reaching for the whiskey bottle and pouring three shots. He handed one to his cousin and offered her the other.

  “You know, I just had a shot behind the bar with Amber. I’m good.” Her nerves were getting the better of her again as she waved him off. “Have as much as you like. I brought you the whole bottle.”

  “Nae, have one with us. For luck. I insist.” Mac handed her the tiny glass, his blue gaze luring her like a bee to honey, or was it a moth to a flame? Whatever the saying, the butterflies in her stomach were urging her onward. Raising his glass, James followed suit, waiting for Nicky to relent. She sighed, took the offering, and threw back the shot in one fell swoop. Closing her eyes, she savored the sweet heat that warmed her tongue and settled across her lips. Her eyes fluttered open only to see the two men gawking and still holding their shots in hand.

  “Oops,” she grinned as she searched for words of recovery. Instead, the sweet heat turned to a full-blown blush, inching its way up her neck.

  “Slàinte,” Mac stated. Their glasses made a clinking sound when they came together with Nicky’s empty one.

  “What does that mean?” she curiously asked, setting her glass down and licking her lips, willing her skin to cool.

  “To good health,” Mac responded, pouring everyone another shot. As he passed the glasses out again, his next comment was random and took her by surprise. “Nice legs.”

  Nicky’s face burned, and her eyes widened as she pressed her bare thighs together. “I beg your pardon?”

  James chuckled and shook his head as if humored by his cousin’s cheeky comment.

  “The whiskey. Nice legs on the glass.” Mac raised the shot glass into the light to show her and smiled.

  “Oh.” The warmth from the liquor pooled in her belly – or maybe it was his smile.

  “Now it’s your turn, lass. Give us a toast.”

  “Me?”

  The two men eyed her, Mac raising his brows with a flirty nod.

  Nicky looked at the floor, feeling awkward at the moment. She had no idea who these guys were or what kind of music they played. They were Scottish, but she didn’t see any bagpipes in the room, only guitars. And what were those intricate tattoos on Mac’s forearms she noticed every time he handed her a glass? The only thing she knew for sure was how handsome and deliciously charming Reid Macpherson was, especially with his sexy accent. Either she was infatuated, or the whiskey had already gone to her head.

  “I don’t know any toasts…,” she fretted, shifting her stance on the cement floor. And yet, how many times had she heard the best man or maid of honor give a toast at one of the weddings at her barn? Surely she could come up with something?

  “Come on – ye know ye have it in ye, lass.” Mac grinned at her with imploring baby blues.

  Sucking in a deep breath of air, Nicky rolled her eyes. “Okay. There is this one toast I remember from college.” Licking her lips, she stood up a little taller and raised her glass, slinging her long hair confidently over her shoulder. “May we kiss who we please, and please who we kiss."

  “Crivvens! I’ll drink to that!” James bellowed, throwing back his shot in one gulp. Mac slowly tipped his back, his focus pinpointed directly on Nicky the entire time.

  Nicky emptied her glass and smacked her lips together, realizing she had just done three whiskey shots in less than ten minutes. She needed to slow down and keep her wits about her while taking care of these two musicians. Before she could utter another word, Amber poked her head in the door.

  “You fellas ready? The crowd is getting antsy.”

  “Aye. Come on, Mac.” James grabbed the neck of his guitar and followed Amber through the kitchen. Mac lingered for a moment more.

  “Enjoy the show.” His voice rumbled with baritone gravel as he passed, close enough for her to smell the whiskey and feel the heat of his breath. When she looked up into his eyes, he winked at her and kept on walking.

  Nicky exhaled slowly and rested her butt against the front of Amber’s desk. She swore she could taste the earthy notes of Scottish peat lingering in his wake. “Damn.”

  The sound of the shrieking crowd brought her out of her foreign daydream and back to the present, evidence the duo was about to start. Smoothing her hair back and tightening the red bandanna, she took in a much-needed deep breath before making her way back into the bar area. Squeezing in between the crowd, she watched Mac and James intimately converse as they stood on the stage bathed in a wash of warm light. Their guitars were slung over their shoulders, and they looked like giants compared to tiny Amber, who was front and center holding a microphone in her hand.

  “I know this is quite the surprise…,” Amber started. The crowd cut her off mid-sentence with shrieks of joy and random ‘I love you’ shout-outs. Shaking her head, she waited for the noise to die down. “You know what? No long speech. You know exactly who’
s here. Give it up for Reid Macpherson!”

  The roar of the crowd was deafening, and Nicky startled at the noise, pressing her hands over her ears for a few seconds in awe of what she was witnessing. Mac and James seemed oblivious as if accustomed to this kind of blare in the spotlight. Their hands started to move back and forth aggressively on the strings of their instruments as they fell into the rhythm of clapping hands. Mac’s eyes were closed, and his head bobbed to the music he and his cousin created in sync with the pulsing audience. The beat droned in Nicky’s chest as she stood taller so she wouldn’t miss even one second. The pair had a unique sound – it was folk infused with a rhythmic style reminiscent of alternative rock. Mac hadn’t even uttered a single lyric into the microphone, and yet, the energetic crowd was already on their feet, entranced by the seemingly popular instrumental. These guys were pros, ramping up their excited fans into a frenzy of stimulation.

  Nicky’s pulse raced as the two musicians pushed the beat into overdrive, their hair becoming tousled as they pumped every bit of sound out of the acoustic instruments with force, looking more like headbangers than Scottish songbirds. The locomotion of sound churned, and the crowd amped up as they neared the end of the song. With a final chord strike, they flung their hands in the air and swung their heads toward the sky. She had never seen anything like it.

  The roar hit her senses again like a tidal wave, the crowd screaming and clapping as if they’d witnessed the encore of an entire show, not the very first song. Nicky watched in awe as Mac took a quick sip from a water bottle before he sat on a stool. Adjusting the microphone stand to mouth level, he swept his fingers through his disheveled hair and rested the instrument on his denim-clad thigh.

  “Hello,” his voice reverberated into the room. The crowd went wild, and Nicky could feel the indentations of her dimples make another appearance.

  “Och! Thanks for being here tonight on such short notice.” Mac seemed to wait for a few screeches to die down, glancing at his cousin. “It’s a real pleasure to be here at The Good Pub. The bonny Amber has been gracious, allowing us to bombard ye with a few rogue songs tonight.”

  A few more ‘yeahs’ and hoots and hollers rang through the space before Mac continued. He seemed used to the spectacle while Nicky was floored by it all. “As ye probably know by now, we’ll be heading out on our very first world tour this fall. We know ye like the old music by yer reaction from the last song. Thanks to ye, it went all the way to number one last year in the States.”

  The applause rippled through the crowd like a gust of wind through a large meadow, and Mac’s eyes seemed to twinkle in the light. Nicky couldn’t help but gawk.

  “But the reason I snuck up on ye tonight was to make sure a few of our new tunes weren’t terribly gash. Would ye mind takin’ a listen to them?” Leaning into the crowd for confirmation, he raised his eyebrows and smiled by the immediate reaction of excited applause. “Very well, then. This new one is a tune I co-wrote with my cousin, James. It’s titled ‘Only Love.’”

  Nicky could hear James count off before the cousins played in acoustic harmony, the melody floating through space like an ethereal cloud. A distinct hush fell across the mass, and every person seemed to concentrate on the haunting melody. When Mac opened his mouth to sing, the soft timbre of his tenor voice surprised her, and she inhaled sharply. The tender ballad conveyed honesty and depth, and Mac’s singing voice was much easier to understand than his speaking voice. The lyrics about a lonely man searching for love in a hostile world pierced her heart. The original song was pure and conjured up feelings of her own loneliness and her breakup with her ex, Eric. She swallowed hard to fend off the emotions threatening to surface. Funny how music could do that to her – especially after she swore she’d never cry over Eric ever again.

  Mac’s sound was unique, and she was sure she’d never heard anything so beautiful before. The surrounding pub patrons seemed to disappear around her as she fell into a contented bubble of admiration. Perhaps Reid Macpherson was lonely too? The lyrics were melancholy and hit way too close to home. If he wrote the song, there had to be something autobiographical to it, right? Or maybe his cousin, James, wrote the powerful lyrics? It didn’t matter. For a few minutes, she allowed herself to freely float in the melody. It was just her and Mac in a serendipitous moment, together. Cupping her chin in her hand with her elbow on the bar, she dreamily watched Reid Macpherson create his magic.

  “Pretty amazing, right?” Amber whispered, startling Nicky out of her daydream.

  Glancing at her friend who seemed more than pleased with what was going on around them, Nicky nodded. “I can’t believe I’ve never heard of him before. He’s fantastic.”

  The two friends leaned into each other and listened in silence. When the last tandem chord rang out from the two guitars, Mac looked around the room as if searching for someone. When his eyes landed on Nicky’s, she held her breath and listened, the last line of the song sung acapella.

  “Only love wins in the end…”

  The crowd remained silent for a beat before erupting in an exuberant round of sincere applause. Nicky stared back at Mac in a daze as Amber elbowed her in the side. Quickly, she brought her hands together, pounding them with all her might. Caught up in the excitement, she continued and brought two fingers to her lips, producing a shrill whistle that caused Mac to shake his head and laugh. Tears clung to the corners of her eyes as her dimples ached in her cheeks. What the hell?

  Amber clapped beside her and smirked. “What’s it like to be the benefactor of a full-blown love song serenade?”

  “What?” Nicky jerked her head to look at her friend.

  Amber laughed and grabbed a clean towel. “Nothing. I’m glad you’re enjoying the show.”

  Chapter Three

  Reid Macpherson was accustomed to pretty girls throwing themselves at him while on tour. It was par for the course being in the music industry: that, and his Scottish accent. Popular shows like Outlander and Game of Thrones put Scotland at the forefront of American entertainment. He was at the right place at the right time, and his performance videos on YouTube caught the eye of a clever music executive who took him under his wing, catapulting him to fame.

  It was comical, really. Back in the day, if he were a regular bloke walking down the streets in America, pretty girls wouldn’t have given him a passing glance. Growing up with his reddish hair, pale skin, and skinny legs, he was often bullied and remained a sort of misfit in Aberdeen. His handsome cousin James was the lady-killer, often giving Mac pointers how to approach the elusive creatures he was more comfortable writing songs about than starting a conversation with. Music was his lady – his muse. And through countless songs and melodies, she showed him how to be courageous and confident in his own skin.

  For much of the last year, Mac and his band were on hiatus. He needed a break – to spend time with his muse and create some new material. Being back in his homeland replenished his soul, and his lovely lady offered him plenty of original melodies. Gearing up for the next album release and his first world tour, he needed to work out some of the kinks in the new songs. His favorite way to do that was to show up, unexpected, at small pubs around Aberdeen and try the tunes out in front of a live audience. Of course, the real pre-tour test was the pub scene in the States.

  Mac and his cousin were already in New York City going over band rehearsal schedules with label execs when they decided to catch a train to the tourist town of Cold Creek. The two had fun with it, arriving under the radar and incognito. No one suspected a multi-platinum, award-nominated Scottish bloke, at least not until word spread among the locals that The Good Pub would be featuring the famous rocker. Mac never worried himself with admission fees at these pop-ups. The crowd was doing him a favor by listening to his new songs, and Lord knows he had more money in the bank than he knew what to do with. These small-town folks were honest and welcoming, especially the gorgeous Nicky with her emerald eyes and long, dark hair. It had been a while since a woman p
iqued his interest, and he was eager to spend some more time with her.

  Watching the lovely American from the stage, Mac couldn’t help but smile and laugh at her reactions after each song. Her dimpled grin snared his gaze over and over, and entranced him. Usually at these small intimate venues, he would close his eyes and focus on the vibe from the crowd. Instead, he found himself playing to impress her, to inspire her reactions. The few moments they had before the show were not enough, and he was determined to find her after the crowd thinned out.

  “Thank ye so much. We hope to see ye on tour. Good night!”

  Standing next to James, the two men bowed a few times before several women rushed the stage wanting selfies and autographs. James immediately placated them, sheltering Mac in the process. Amber was nearby and signaled the bouncers to move the crowd back. Mac could feel hands grope and touch him as he slipped into the back hallway that led to the kitchen. Sweat trickled down his cheeks into his beard, and his t-shirt held a long, damp stripe across his shoulder where his guitar strap pressed against his body during the show. Blinking several times under the fluorescent lighting in the kitchen, he was surprised by the welcome sight of Nicky. Her bright smile was infectious, triggering a shy grin of his own. Her gaze unsettled him in the best possible way.

  “I’ve got some hot and spicy wings and other food waiting for you in Amber’s office,” she announced in a flirtatious tone. “And I thought you might like a cold beer after your performance, too.” She quickly ran ahead of him and opened the door to the office with a grand, sweeping gesture. “If you need anything else, please, let me know. I’ll hang out in the kitchen.”