If there were a way to expose the truth that Randy was responsible and restore my good reputation and name, I would gladly grab it.
For now, for the weekend, I had to put it all behind me. I had plans to make. Things to get done. Surprises to plan for Blair. That woman had turned my life upside down in every positive way possible.
I thought about her constantly. Only wanted to be with her. Couldn't imagine life without her.
Blair and I had only been together since March. But I'd known since the first she was the woman for me. When my buddy Lazer had hired Ashley to make matches for us last year, he did it because we'd all decided we were ready to marry. All we each needed was the right woman.
I'd found mine. I couldn't let this romantic opportunity pass without grabbing it. I was going to propose to Blair in Scotland. But first I was going to tell her just how much I loved her at the gathering.
* * *
Blair
The guys and I got to the camping site early so we could stake everything out and unpack before evening and the festivities began. It was late July and one of those perfect summer days we Seattleites spend the winter months dreaming about. Sunshine, temperatures in the low eighties, a gentle breeze blowing.
The campsite was in the woods, shaded by towering Douglas firs and surrounded by ferns, foxglove, rhododendrons, wild huckleberries, and tiny wildflowers of all kinds. A stream babbled happily nearby. It was a quintessential Pacific Northwest setting.
The guys had brought an old fifth-wheeler they'd restored. It wasn't primitive living by any means. They had a functional kitchen and bathroom. Lights. Electricity. And any number of state-of-the-art techie gadgets, including numerous power banks, a solar camp shower, and a camp stove that not only produced a smokeless fire, but stored the electricity generated by burning the wood. The had portable camping LED outdoor lights and inflatable solar lights. Basically, anything cool they saw, they bought, whether they needed them or not. It was debatable whether anyone needed as many lights and power sources as they'd brought with them. Some of the devices they'd collected from various crowdsourcing projects, others they'd bought at tech fairs.
That's what happens when you hang with geeks. They have all the latest. All the comforts of home, plus. The three of them would be nice and cozy. But they were already ribbing me for taking Austin away from them. And as they say, Where there's smoke, there's fire. Except, of course, in the case of their new camp stove.
I had to tread lightly as I teased them back. I was taking Austin from them—in a sense, anyway. Soon they'd all be finding women who would interrupt their tight buddy system and camaraderie. Life inevitably changed. Nothing stands still. But the first change like this was always hardest to take.
"You just want him for his hand-press coffee pump," I said. "You're typical Seattleites. You can't live without your coffee first thing."
"Nah. We have a Keurig in the camper," Jeremy said with a shrug. "We're good there."
"That's not as fun and exotic," I said. "Austin claims the hand press gives the coffee that extra-smoky campfire flavor."
"When Austin becomes a super taster, I'll believe him. It's his empty bed," Dylan said. "A reminder one of us isn't here. Maybe we should rent it out."
"Maybe one of you should fill it with a woman of your own." I pointedly lifted one eyebrow. "You act like Austin's dead. He'll be hanging around with you boys plenty this weekend."
"Not the same," Dylan said, sounding a touch morose.
I sighed, but held my tongue. I had nothing to gain by rubbing it in.
They'd set up camp chairs around the campsite fire pit and set a cooler full of beer and other beverages on the picnic table assigned to our hookup spot.
The campsite was just a few miles from the gathering site. Although the campsites were positioned to be as private as possible, we were surrounded through the trees by gathering attendees—the sound of children playing and swimming in the nearby brook, and bagpipes playing, mixed oddly with the sound of modern music blaring.
Plaid was pretty much the king of the day—plaid blankets, plaid tablecloths, plaid napkins, plaid shorts. Plenty of kilts of all kinds. Scottish crests hung in RV windows and were plastered as stickers on the backs of them. People were dressed in modern clothing, in costume from all periods of Scottish history, in T-shirts with Scottish sayings, in Jamie T-shirts, and in modern kilts. It was a free-for-all regarding correct attire. Choose what you want. No one cared.
Because it was warm out, and I wasn't needed in my official capacity at the gathering until tomorrow, I opted not to wear one of my Elinor costumes. Instead I had a surprise for Austin. I was dressed as a Scottish lass in the Sinclair plaid made into a short tartan sundress.
It was a little formal, maybe, for camping, in that I would have generally worn cutoffs. And also a little warm in the heat of the day being as it was made from wool. Lightweight wool, in this case. But still wool. Beth had made it as a surprise, and I couldn't disappoint her. It was darling and very fashionable. I wore it with hiking boots and boot socks, though, like a true Highlander.
Austin texted that he was running late. It was nearly seven thirty when he arrived. Cam and Dylan were already preparing to grill steaks. Having finished setting out the condiments and making the salad, Jeremy and I were sitting around shooting the breeze and drinking beer when Austin pulled up.
When he jumped out of his car, my heart stood still. It never ceased to sing and trill at the sight of him. I never got over the thrill of seeing him, the cocky set of his smile, the way his eyes lit up when he saw me. The way he looked at me. Or the way he looked in a kilt.
"About time!" Cam said as I threw myself into Austin's arms.
Austin kissed me before he replied. "Traffic. Every guy and his dog are trying to get to the gathering, and specifically this campground."
He returned his focus to me. "Hey, lass. You look bonny. Is that the Sinclair plaid?" He tugged at the straps of my sundress and kissed me again before I could answer, leaving me breathless.
I hadn't seen him all week and could barely keep my hands off him. Damn the project and those long hours he was working.
"It is," I said, nose to nose with him, my hands wrapped in his T-shirt, grabbing him almost as if he had lapels. "Beth made it out of the scraps the fabric the show sent. Remember when you were wondering how many outfits you and she could make from it? Beth is going for a new world record."
He laughed.
I slid my gaze down him. He was wearing a gray T-shirt and a kilt in a brightly colored plaid that was not the muted, historic Sinclair pattern. "Traitor! Whose plaid is this? The modern Sinclair?"
"Sinclair?" He shook his head. His eyes went wide with disbelief. "Blair, darling, why would I come to the gathering in another clan's plaid? My granda would kill me." He looked down at his kilt. "This is the MacDougall tartan."
"Oh." I didn't know why that surprised and delighted me. But it did.
Beth was so firmly American, with no ties that I could discern to any "old country" or ethnic heritage, that, despite having a British father, I sometimes forgot other Americans did. Despite Austin's green eyes and auburn hair, it was easy to forget he had a strong Scottish heritage and clan of his own.
"You bought a new kilt for the gathering?" I said.
He shook his head again, grinning at me. "This isn't my first gathering, lass. I've had this kilt since my granda gave it to me for high school graduation."
"And couldn't fit into it again until Stryker kicked his butt into shape," Cam helpfully added. He turned to me. "Check it. It probably smells like mothballs." He laughed and turned to Austin. "Did you bring your bagpipes, too?"
"I should have. Just to torture you guys." Austin took my hand as we joined the others. "What's the plan?"
"Dinner. Gathering," Jeremy said. "Concert tonight, isn't it? Scottish groups on the main stage?"
Austin nodded. "Some of the groups are playing tonight. Contemporary and folk. The headliner
is tomorrow after the tattoo. Along with dancing."
His hand was around my waist, lightly squeezing me. Hot and possessive. Large and thrilling. I couldn't wait to be alone with him. If his body language was any indication, he felt the same.
He glanced at Cam, who was stoking the coals in the grill. "How long until dinner? What can we do to help?"
Cam eyed the coals piled with woodchips doubtfully. "Damn coals are taking longer than I expected. I think I over-soaked my woodchips." He frowned. "Half an hour at least."
"Why aren't using the smokeless stove?" Austin said.
Cam rolled his eyes. "This is why we don't let him do the cooking. And why we don't trust his sense of taste. Smokeless grilling!" He sighed heavily. "Think about it a second—what gives barbecue its flavor?"
Austin grinned at me, ignoring Cam's jibe.
Cam shook his head. "Go. Get out of here. Go for a walk and have your alone time before dinner or we won't be able to stand the gooey looks of longing."
Dylan laughed. "We can handle it here. Just don't take too long. Not that I expect it will."
Austin ignored their good-natured ribbing and took my hand. "We'll just take a quick walk."
"Good thing our campsite's on the edge of camp," Dylan said to Jeremy.
"I hope you have your knife in your boot, Blair," Cam said to me. "You might meet a big, bad bear in the woods." He glanced at Austin with a grin on his face. "In fact, I think you definitely will."
I laughed. "Always. But I think even the bear will be scared away by all this racket."
"You never can tell," Dylan said. "The animals come out in the evening."
"We'll be careful. Promise," I said.
Austin squeezed my hand, and we walked off together along the trail into the woods. The trail meandered uphill from the burbling stream. It was a well-kept trail, asphalt for part of it, packed dirt just a few hundred feet in.
"I've camped here dozens of times. It's a beautiful spot. We got the prime hookup," Austin said, pulling me along. As soon as we were out of sight of camp, he kissed me again. "I've missed you."
I was almost breathless with desire.
"I know a private spot not far away," he said in a tone of voice that left no doubt what he wanted.
I nodded.
"It's just uphill off the path." He scrambled up the hill, helping me up after him, leading me to a grassy spot next to a fine, large fir.
I could hear the brook babbling. But the sounds of humanity and camp had faded away. All that remained were the sounds of the forest—bees and flies. Birds. Squirrels chattering in the trees.
He stepped into me, backing me up against that fir until I had bark at my back and him, firm and hard, in front of me. Just where I liked him.
"Well, lass," he said, looking deep into my eyes. "Have you ever done it against the rough bark of a tree?"
I pretended to consider for a moment. "Rough bark, you say?" I held his gaze. "Tender bark? Maybe. Rough, no. Now that I think of it, I don't think I have."
"Don't think? You mean you don't remember?" His eyes were full of me.
And I was ready to be full of him.
"I promise you won't forget this one." He slid his hand up my thigh. Beneath the skirt of my dress. Along my hip, hiking my skirt up.
I was wearing thin thong panties, leaving little to the imagination. And even less to protect my butt from the bark of the tree.
Austin seemed pleased with the find. His eyes were dark and round with desire. "Not quite a Scot. Or you'd be wearing nothing," he said in his Jamie accent.
"Well?" I said, taking the same liberties with him, sliding my hands up his powerful thighs beneath his kilt, where it was blatantly obvious he was ready for me, too. "What's beneath your kilt?"
"Not a thong, that's for damn sure," he said with a growl.
Even though I knew he went commando beneath his kilt, I was still almost surprised, though pleasantly so, to find only him there, long, hard, and ready.
"This is certainly the pleasure of a man in a kilt." I stroked him.
He grabbed my hand, stilling it. "The pleasure of a man in a kilt with a woman in a skirt. It's been a long week. Stroke me again and I'm not sure I can hold back." He slid a finger beneath the tiny square of my panties. I was already wet and ready for him. He found that out quickly enough.
"That makes two of us who can't wait." I kissed him lightly.
The tree was slightly uphill from where he stood, leveling the height difference between us.
"I've been thinking about you all week. Imagining this, just us in the woods together," I whispered, brushing his lush curls off his face where the breeze had blown them. Joy and desire pulsed through me.
"Well?" I raised an eyebrow. "What are you waiting for? We don't want the guys to come looking for us." I pulled that tiny bit of thong out of the way and positioned him at the opening between my legs.
"This won't take long." His voice was ragged and sexy as hell. He lifted my face to his and pulled me into the most tantalizing kiss, distracting me from the world around me.
Even though I was anticipating it, I gasped when he thrust into me around my thong. The small of my back and my butt rammed against the tree. A blue jay overhead squawked. What did it have to be outraged at? I was sure it had seen its share of woodland fornicating. It was half of the birds and bees equation, after all.
Austin thrust in again. I lifted up and wrapped my legs around his waist, digging the heels of my boots into his back as he thrust again and again and I moved with him.
"Fuck, Blair."
My naked butt and back scraped against the bark of the fir. As did the knuckles of his hands. I barely felt the pain.
But he noticed. "I'm hurting you."
He spun me around away from the tree and laid me on the grassy spot, barely breaking our heated, frantic rhythm. The need between us was deep and palpable, pulsing through us and radiating in the air between us.
I looked up at the trees waving beneath the blue skies of evening. I looked up at him and sighed from the depth of my being. This was ecstasy. This was the way loving a man should be. Always. Every emotion heightened. Every fiber of my being his.
As our eyes met, we smiled at each other. I kissed him. Rocked with him. Moaned against him. He broke loose, up on his arms, thrusting into me, riding me against the grass. As I pulled his head against my neck, I felt myself opening up to him as never before. Completely. And completed by him.
Every part of my being was his. Near the edge of climax, I gasped. And closed my eyes. And imagined this never ending. And took in the smell of him, warm from the summer heat and the exercise of sex. Smelled the musty earth. The grass beneath me. The scent of fir. And vowed, in as much as I was able to think with the pleasure building, that I would hold this in my mind forever.
Another thrust and I was over the edge, releasing my climax, letting out a moan on the breeze. He followed, grunting, holding me close, but managing to keep most of his weight off me.
I was so wrapped up in him I didn't hear the warning signs until too late. Not the snap of a twig. Not the rattle of bushes. Out of nowhere, two large, drunk, dirty men appeared.
"What do we have here?" The voice was deep with menace and lust. "Can anybody play?"
I screamed.
Austin turned to look over his shoulder, just as the men grabbed him and pulled him off me. One of them punched him across the jaw before he could react, stunning him and cracking his lip open.
I winced at the sight of his fat lip and the blood oozing down the side of his mouth. It wasn't the blood that got to me, but his vulnerability. He couldn't defend himself against the two of them. At least he was wearing a kilt and it had fallen down to cover his nakedness.
I scrambled to pull my skirt down and scoot away, trying to think. I had to do something.
"Woodland whore. I'll take a turn now." The man's breath stank of alcohol. His clothes reeked of weed. The rank combination of odors reached me on the grou
nd and turned my stomach.
My clinical, professional self kicked in. I assessed him, detached from myself. By the way he was acting, and the dilation of his eyes, he'd been smoking. But he was also high on something stronger than weed, fueled by a sense of invincibility the drugs gave him.
I stared at him, frightened and furious. Thinking. Desperately trying to remember everything Cam had taught me. Something.
Austin struggled to free himself from the grip of the bigger man. The man before me turned and punched Austin in the stomach. He probably expected Austin to double over and gasp for breath. But Austin had a six-pack that acted like a suit of armor. Cam and Stryker had trained him. He knew how to contract his muscles and protect himself. He winced and gasped, but only slightly.
The guy who'd thrown the punch was an amateur and not particularly strong. I guessed his hand hurt like hell after hitting the rock of muscle that was Austin. He looked stunned he hadn't done more damage.
Fury clouded my vision and blotted out all else, empowering me. I reached for my boot almost automatically.
The one who'd punched Austin shook his hand out and spew foul curses. He was furious now and ready to prove his manhood on me. He returned his focus to me and unzipped his shorts. If he thought I was a helpless woman, I was about to teach him a few life lessons—appearances can be deceiving. And never underestimate your adversary.
I got a grip on my knife, just the way Cam had taught me, and withdrew it, eyes hard. I held it in a defensive position, ready to strike, letting him see I was armed. "Take one step near me and I will slice you with surgical precision into pieces so small your mother won't be able to recognize them."
The guy froze, startled.
I puffed myself up as large as I could make myself look and grinned as menacingly as I could manage. Which wasn't as hard as I would have thought, fueled by adrenaline as I was.
The other guy mumbled something I didn't catch. I didn't take my eyes off either of them, hoping they weren't armed.
The one took a step toward me. "Big talk for a little woman. Am I supposed to be afraid?"
Almost Elinor: A Jet City Novel Page 10
