Fight or Flight

by Young, Samantha

  “You’re so very good at distracting me, wee yin.” He caressed my lower lip with his thumb.

  I discreetly swiped at it with my tongue and then pulled away, grinning at the hot look he gave me. “I think you were the one who did the distracting this time.”

  He nodded and then gestured to the aisle. “I think you might need tae use the facilities, no?”

  My belly flipped. “Now?”

  “Aye,” Caleb practically growled. “Now.”

  And that was how, on trembling legs, I got up out of my seat, readying myself to join the mile high club. I felt his hand caress my ass as I squeezed by him and I shivered, unable to fully comprehend the reality of what I was planning to do because all I really cared about was getting him inside me.

  It felt like I hadn’t had him inside me in years.

  And I never thought I’d get to love him like this again.

  I pushed the curtain aside, giving the flight attendant a weak smile, before I let myself into the bathroom with shaky fingers. I locked it. And waited.

  Less than a minute passed before I heard a knock. “It’s me.”

  Lust tugged deep in my belly as I unlocked it and stumbled back in the tiny space to let Caleb in. We were crammed together, our bodies touching, as he locked the door behind us.

  “I keep forgetting how tall you are,” I whispered, my head tilted back to look up at him.

  His answer was to lift me up and my legs automatically wound around his hips, my skirt bunching up around my waist as he propped me on the edge of the small countertop.

  “Only you,” he suddenly whispered.

  I looked into his eyes, questioning the hoarse, painful quality in his voice.

  He rested his forehead against mine, holding me tight. “You have the power tae hurt me. Only you.”

  Understanding caused a rush of emotion within me, tears stinging my nose. “When you hurt, Caleb, I hurt.” My voice broke as I promised, “I’ll never hurt you.”

  “I love you,” Caleb choked out abruptly, the words coarse and dragging, as if they cost him his soul to say it.

  Relief, bliss, and sweet, painful connection made me smile in sympathy. “It’ll get easier.”

  “Tae say it?”

  “No.” I placed my hand over his heart. “To feel it.”

  His answer to that was a kiss so hungry and deep I miraculously forgot where I was. I forgot everything but the need to be with him.

  Epilogue

  THREE WEEKS LATER

  A nod’s as guid as a wink tae a blind horse.”

  Lying facing Caleb in bed, I felt my lips twitch in amusement. “I have no idea.”

  We were playing the “let Ava guess what Scottish words and sayings mean” game and I was having no such luck in guessing correctly so far.

  “It means, ‘Explain yourself more clearly.’ ”

  “Yeah, I was never getting that. What?” I shoved him playfully. “You’re making stuff up now.”

  Caleb grinned and shook his head as much as he could since it was propped up by his hand, elbow bent to his pillow. “Another?”

  “Yes. I am going to get one eventually.”

  “Is the cat deid?”

  “Is the cat dead?” I translated.

  “Aye. But it’s a saying.”

  Bewildered and wondering if he really was just making phrases up now, I announced, “How the hell am I supposed to know what that means?”

  He chuckled. “You would say it to someone to mean, ‘Your trousers or your hem is too short.’ ”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Am not.”

  “Why would you ask if ‘the cat is deid’ for that?”

  “If your hemline is too short it’s like a flag flying at half mast.”

  Understanding dawned and I felt a snicker rise in my throat. “Like when someone dies.”

  “Exactly.”

  I threw my head back in laughter, tears of mirth drenching my eyes, and I heard Caleb’s soft, husky laughter join mine. “Okay, that’s funny.” I giggled. “Completely bonkers, but funny.”

  “We’ve got tons of sayings like that.”

  “And you all grow up saying them?”

  “Nah.” He shook his head. “Most of them are from generations past. I only know them because my gran still says them.”

  I thought of the last three weeks of bliss together and how although Caleb hadn’t repeated that he loved me; he showed it in his every action. At his brother’s art show in Chicago, he barely let me out of his sight, and Jamie looked genuinely pleased to see us together. Since arriving back home in Boston, we hadn’t spent a night without each other. The bathroom cabinet in my place was overflowing because of the toiletries Caleb kept there, and I had my own products littering the bathroom in his apartment. Although we were both busy with work, Caleb wanted us to come home to each other at the end of the day and I was not complaining. Not a bit.

  In fact, we felt so much like a couple, I wondered if he would introduce me to his gran and the rest of his family during one of their Skype calls. I was nervous about their reaction to me after Jamie’s presumption that I was just like Caleb’s deplorable ex.

  Sweeping the thought from my mind to concentrate on my guy, I smiled and leaned closer to him. It was a Saturday morning, we both had nothing to do but laze around with each other, and so far it was tremendous. “Tell me another one. One I might actually guess this time.”

  “Whit’s fur ye’ll no go by ye,” he answered, reaching out a hand to draw his finger in a soft caress from the top of my shoulder down my outer arm.

  I translated its literal meaning in my head and melted into his touch, realizing this wasn’t just another saying for me to guess, but one with significance for us. “What’s for you will not go by you.”

  “Meaning?”

  I thought of a similar saying here. “What’s meant to happen will happen.”

  Caleb nodded, our gazes locked, and I felt a little breathless at the shine of love in his eyes. “See, you guessed one correctly.”

  “We were meant to meet at O’Hare,” I whispered, feeling emotional because although I’d thought it at the time, I hadn’t dwelled on the fact that we had kept weirdly bumping into each other everywhere. “Meant to sit next to each other on that plane. It wasn’t just coincidence. You knowing Patrice, staying with her, her being my client, my friend, and then us meeting in Canterbury just when I was contemplating ending things. It was all meant to be.”

  He pushed up off the pillow and moved over me, pressing me gently down on my back to brace himself above me. I opened my legs, caressing the back of his calf with my foot and feeling more than a spark of lust ignite through my body. “You really think that?”

  “I never believed in fate until you,” I answered honestly.

  Caleb studied me thoughtfully, seeming to drink in every facet of my face. “I dinnae know if I believe it was fate.”

  I frowned. “No?”

  “Maybe the flights, aye, and I suppose it was quite the coincidence about Patrice. But when she said your name, I could have just ignored that she knew you and went about my business. I didn’t. I pursued you. From that point on we’ve been in charge of this, Ava. When one of us stopped fighting, the other didn’t. And I know you think you fought harder than me for us, and I’m not saying that isn’t true—although you know I plan tae make that up tae you from now on—but even if my mind battled against wanting you, it didn’t always win.”

  “I know that,” I said. I did. Otherwise we wouldn’t be lying in bed together.

  “No.” Caleb shook his head. “I’m talking about when I left for Scotland. When I got offered the job in Boston. I talked it over with my family tae see how they’d feel about it. I knew they weren’t too keen on me leaving, but they wanted me tae do what was best for my career. And it was best for my career … but it wasn’t the only reason I accepted the job.”

  My breath caught as I began to understand his meaning.

&n
bsp; He nodded and gave me a rueful, boyish smile at odds with his ruggedness. “I couldn’t even admit it tae myself at the time … but I was addicted tae you, wee yin. And you swayed my decision tae get on that plane and come back here.”

  Tears pricked my eyes as my heart filled with too much emotion, too much need and love. And guilt. “And I mentioned Leo the first night we were together again.”

  “You didn’t know. Hell, I didn’t even know really. I just knew I wanted tae tear off his head and I didn’t even know him.” He lifted a hand from beside my head and followed it with his eyes as he trailed his fingertips down my collarbone, across my naked breast, and down my ribs. I sucked in a breath as desire flushed through me. “All I knew was that the thought of any other man touching you drove me crazy. Still does.” His eyes came back to mine. “You’re the first person I’ve ever wanted tae belong tae, Ava. The first person I ever wanted tae belong tae me.”

  “I never thought I’d ever want that,” I admitted on a hitched breath. “But you have a habit of changing my perspective.”

  He stared down into my eyes, his fierce with love and mine reflecting the intense emotion back at him.

  I’d never felt more cherished, more loved, more wanted or needed as Caleb made gentle, sweet love to me that morning.

  We kissed, sweet, luscious kisses that made me feel drowsy and satisfied, and then Caleb lifted his head from my lips and said, voice hoarse with vehemence, “I love you, Ava Breevort.”

  I tightened my hold on him, anchored to him.

  Safe with him.

  Home with him.

  “I love you too, Caleb Scott.”

  This time his kiss was more savage, needful, and when he eventually broke it, he nuzzled his lips against my neck, rolling so I was lying sprawled across the top of him. We lay in sweet silence for a while. A silence he ended when he whispered, “You’re right.”

  “About what?”

  “You make it easier tae feel it every day.”

  I held on to him tighter and was just dozing off when his body jerked beneath me. “What is it?” I raised my head to stare at him in concern.

  He was frowning. “What time is it?”

  “I don’t know. Why?” I clambered off him to reach over to the nightstand where my phone was charging. I flipped it open. “Just past ten fifteen.” I glanced back at him, watching curiously as he relaxed against the pillows.

  He reached out to me. “That’s fine. Come back.”

  I did, but as I crawled over him, I asked, “Why?”

  “I forgot, I have a Skype call with the family at two o’clock.”

  “Oh, you’ve got plenty of time,” I assured him.

  “They’re looking forward tae meeting you.”

  I tensed, my voice involuntarily high-pitched as I replied, “Today?”

  His arms tightened around me. “That a problem?”

  Glaring at him incredulously, I didn’t see any concern etched between his brows. “You could give a girl some warning.”

  “You dinnae want tae meet them?”

  “Of course I do!” I slapped his chest. “But meeting your family is a big deal and I haven’t even—Look at my hair!”

  Relief flooded his features and he began to shake with laughter. “You have plenty of time tae do your hair, wee yin.”

  A thought occurred to me and I sat up, still straddling him. “Maybe I shouldn’t. I don’t want them to think I’m like your ex the way Jamie did. He said we both had that shiny, polished look. Maybe I should leave off the makeup and not style my hair so they don’t think—” The rest of my sentence was muffled against his big hand clamped over my mouth.

  He didn’t look amused anymore. “You’ll wear what you want. You’ll be Ava and no one else for them. I’ve already told them loads about you and they’re happy you make me happy. That’s all they care about.”

  I slumped against his hold and he released my mouth. “You’re sure? I want them to like me.”

  He gripped my waist and gave it a squeeze. “I love that you care so much about them liking you, but I dinnae want you working yourself into a worry about it. My family will love you but all that matters is that I love you and you love me. Right?”

  And just like that I melted and my anxiety momentarily fled. “Right.”

  “And you already know Jamie likes you. That’s one down.”

  I did know that. Jamie had made it clear over the last few weeks that he was grateful to me for making Caleb happy again. For giving him back hope for the future. Funnily enough, however, now that Caleb’s simmering anger had abated, I saw clearly for the first time that the similarity I’d noted between the two brothers had nothing to do with physical appearance really.

  They both had this underlying bitterness in their ice blue eyes.

  “He doesn’t seem happy,” I whispered all of a sudden.

  Caleb’s grip on me tightened in response. “Quinn,” he replied, his voice like sandpaper against the name. “He was Jamie’s twin. Jamie was in the car with him when Quinn lost control of the car.”

  His words pierced my heart and suddenly that bitterness in Jamie’s eyes made so much sense.

  Although Caleb would never truly get over what Carissa did—and it hurt that I couldn’t repair that damage—the bitterness in his eyes had dissipated. Every day it got chipped away at by our love. Sound cheesy? Maybe. But it was beautiful and it was true.

  Jamie’s bitterness, however, was still there and now I knew why. “I wish there was something we could do for him,” I said, heart aching for his brother.

  “Well … we can only hope one day he meets his Ava.”

  Love broke through the empathetic ache in my chest. I was no longer astonished by Caleb’s romantic side. He showed me it more and more each day—the man he had been before Carissa. The man he was becoming again. “We’re staying in this bed until one o’clock.” I kissed him, pressing my lower body to his.

  “Again?”

  I kissed along his jaw, his stubble prickling and tickling my lips. “I’m going to wring you dry, Caleb Scott,” I purred, biting his earlobe.

  “Do with me what you will, wee yin.” He wrapped his arms tight around me, binding me to him as he whispered in my ear, “Every inch of me is yours.”

  Acknowledgments

  First, I have to thank Amy Jennings for coming up with the title of this book. I asked all the amazing folks in my Facebook readers group “Sam’s Clan McBookish” for help in choosing a title for this manuscript. I gave you all hardly anything to go on, and yet, Amy, you somehow produced the most fitting title. Thank you!

  Moreover, thank you to all the readers in my Facebook Clan who show me love and support and so much enthusiasm on a daily basis. I’d be lost without you!

  I want to also say a massive thank you to the team of people around me who, whether directly or indirectly, help make each book develop into the best story it can be: my fantastic agent, Lauren Abramo; my wonderful editor, Kerry Donovan; the brilliant team at Berkley; my fabulous publicist, KP Simmon; my “can’t live without you” PA, Ashleen Walker; my awesome friends and family; and my supportive author buds.

  All of you encourage me and challenge me in the best way possible. You find ways to make my life easier, and I’m grateful for you.

  And finally, the biggest thank you of all to my tremendous readers. What are words without someone to read them? Thank you.

  Don’t miss the first book in

  Samantha Young’s Hart’s Boardwalk series,

  The One Real Thing

  Available now.

  Turn the page for a special excerpt.

  One of my favorite feelings in the whole world is that moment I step inside a hot shower after having been caught outside in cold, lashing rain. The transformation from clothes-soaked-to-the-skin misery to soothing warmth is unlike any other. I love the resultant goose bumps and the way my whole body relaxes under the stream of warm water. In that pure, simple moment all accumulated worries
just wash away with the rain.

  The moment I met Cooper Lawson felt exactly like that hot shower after a very long, cold storm.

  The day hadn’t started out all sunshine and clear skies. It was a little gray outside and there were definite clouds, but I still hadn’t been prepared for the sudden deluge of rain that flooded from the heavens as I was walking along the boardwalk in the seaside city of Hartwell.

  My eyes darted for the closest available shelter and I dashed toward it—a closed bar that had an awning. Soaked within seconds, blinded by rain, and irritated by the icky feeling of my clothes sticking to my skin, I wasn’t really paying much attention to anything else but getting to the awning. That was why I ran smack into a hard, masculine body.

  If the man’s arms hadn’t reached out to catch me I would have bounced right onto my ass.

  I pushed my soaked hair out of my eyes and looked up in apology at the person I had so rudely collided with.

  Warm blue eyes met mine. Blue, blue eyes. Like the Aegean Sea that surrounded Santorini. I’d vacationed there a few years back and the water there was the bluest I’d ever seen.

  Once I was able to drag my gaze from the startling color of those eyes, I took in the face they were set upon. Rugged, masculine.

  My eyes drifted over his broad shoulders and my head tipped back to take in his face because the guy was well over six feet tall. The hands that were still on my biceps, steadying me, were big, long fingered, and callused against my bare skin.

  Despite the cold, I felt my body flush with the heat of awareness and I stepped out of the stranger’s hold.

  “Sorry,” I said, slicking my wet hair back, grinning apologetically. “That rain came out of nowhere.”

  He gave a brief nod as he pushed his wet dark hair back from his forehead. The blue flannel shirt he wore over a white T-shirt was soaked through, too, and I suddenly found myself staring at the way the T-shirt clung to his torso.

  There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him.

  I thought I heard a chortle of laughter and my eyes flew to his face, startled—and horrified at the thought of being caught ogling. There was no smirk or smile on his lips, however, although there was definitely amusement in those magnificent eyes of his. Without saying a word he reached out for the door to the quaint building and pushed. The door swung open and he stepped inside what was an empty and decidedly closed bar.