“Cece, what did you do?”
“What you bloody fool should have done. He needed to see what he was missing. That was him, wasn’t it? Earlier?”
“It was,” I finally conceded. It was pointless trying to hide anything from my sneaky roommate. She’d basically set me up. She smiled with an air of satisfaction on her face, and I hugged her despite how smug she looked.
“I owe you one…I think. I should go. I’ve kept him waiting long enough. Don’t tell anyone or I might have to kill you.” We exchanged a look, and I left the boys’ townhouse after grabbing my coat.
I couldn’t walk fast enough in my high heels. Luckily, Hugh’s place wasn’t far away. I rang the bell and unzipped my coat hastily, feeling even colder, my nipples pebbling under the fabric of the Wonder Woman onesie. It was only then that I remembered the key he had given me. We hadn’t had sex in a few days, and it was pointless to try to say I hadn’t thought about it every single day. My hands trembled like those of an addict who’s gone too many days without a fix. I didn’t want to feel that way, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted him.
Before remembering the key, I’d had a different plan.
I had thought he would open the door and I would drag him straight to the bedroom. Since he didn’t answer, I fished the key out of my tiny clutch and opened the door.
I certainly hadn’t been expecting a handsome man wearing a Kylo Ren costume and an apron around his waist. Was he cooking dinner?
What the what?
Now that I could actually see him, I approved even more of this costume—his ass looked spectacular. I shut the door, and he finally turned around, a bright smile stretching across his face.
“It’s about time you showed up, mo chridhe,” he said in a low rumble, his eyes unreadable. I thought I might be in trouble for a minute, but then he smiled. I ditched my coat and as our eyes met, he gave me a once-over. He let go of the knife and whatever it was he’d been chopping. The look in his eyes had my heart kick-drumming against my chest, my throat went dry, and I licked my lips as he walked over to me. I looked up to him and saw that his usually bright blue eyes were brooding with desire.
Yes. Come to mama.
I reached for him, taking his face in my hands just as his arms went around me and pulled me tightly against him. He gave me a grin that made my stomach fill with butterflies, my skin burn with need, and my knees buckle under the weight of anticipation. I couldn’t wait any longer. I kissed him, letting my tongue do the talking, telling him how much I had missed his lips, his mouth, his body—everything. I missed everything about him, and we’d been flush against each other just a while ago.
He moaned in my mouth, and the sound of it did nothing but fuel the frenzy I was already succumbing to. I had to have him. Right here, right now. I reached around his waist, trying to untie his apron and get him out of his getup.
He had other ideas.
He stopped my hands. Whatever he was cooking had gotten his attention, and he stopped the kiss, leaving me thirsty for more.
“Wait a second, Sam,” he said, holding up a finger, trying to regain his composure. He kissed me softy on the lips. “Your costume is really sexy, by the way. Your picture nearly gave me a heart attack.” There it was again—that damn irresistible smirk on his lips.
I followed him to the kitchen.
He was mixing something that smelled like a whisky-based sauce, and he had what looked like heavy cream in a bowl and fresh prawns in another.
“Yeah, about that…I didn’t send that picture,” I said, leaning against the counter, facing him.
“Ye didn’t? Then who did?” he asked in a curious tone as he lifted his head from the pan he was holding.
“Cece did.” His eyes widened for a second, and he took a deep breath through his nose. He gave me a careful look then nodded.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t tell her anything, she figured it out on her own. I didn’t mean for this to happen,” I said, trying to excuse myself. “But…”
“But?”
“If you didn’t want people to know, maybe you shouldn’t have showed up at the party. I guarantee you everyone is going to wonder who I was dancing with. There’s not much to do up here. People are starved for gossip.”
“Sam,” he said in a low voice. When I looked up, he smiled at me reassuringly. His eyes didn’t look worried, but there was a different type of emotion I couldn’t place. “I am not going to worry about that, and neither should you. We’re going to try to keep things on the down low, but if our cover is blown, we’ll handle it. I don’t…” He paused for a second, as if he were thinking about the possibility of staying away from each other. “I don’t want to stay away from you. I don’t think I can,” he said, almost as if he were talking to himself. He frowned, and I wanted to reach for him, to smooth the frown over, but he was the one who stepped in closer, still keeping an eye on the sauce. He leaned in and took my chin in his hand.
“As long as you want me, I want to be with you.” He kissed me softly, and then whispered “Happy Birthday” against my lips.
Being there with him felt like a dream I didn’t want to wake up from. Everything was new and exciting, but I had no clue what the future held for us.
Still, I knew he was sincere about his intentions. For some reason, I felt I could trust Hugh MacLeod, even though I had been burned badly. His breath was warm, and his voice felt like an embrace, but he let go of me again and I sighed. When I opened my eyes, he was staring at me, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.
I looked down and bit my lip, a bit embarrassed by the fact that just a touch from him set my skin ablaze. He poured a glass of white wine for me and one for him, and then he toasted to me. I smiled nervously and exhaled a deep breath.
I hadn’t felt this cherished in a long time.
“Do you need any help?” I asked him.
“No. I just need you here by me,” he replied, interlacing the fingers of his left hand with mine.
“Thank you for making dinner. No one’s ever cooked for me before.”
He looked surprised by my revelation, and then he frowned, his eyebrows pulled together. He gave an imperceptible shake of his head, and then his lips curled at the corners. “You deserve this and much more, Sam,” he said in a low voice. When he glanced back at me, the soft, loving look in his eyes made my heart flutter like Tinker Bell’s wings.
I loved the way he said my name. His accent seemed to be more pronounced on the most random words, and he was completely owning me. “You’re kind and sweet and take care of everyone around you. If people don’t see it, it’s their loss. They’re the fools.” I was touched by his words, but I couldn’t help but feel a hint of guilt inside of me. Was I really such a good girl? I had done some pretty bad things recently, and a lot of people had gotten hurt as a consequence. I didn’t feel like my conscience was so sparkling clean. I let out a deep breath, and he frowned.
“Did I say something wrong?” he asked.
I exhaled loudly and decided to change the subject. “I was just trying to remember how you say fool in Scottish. I swear I just learned that the other day.”
“Dafty,” he said with a charming smile. “Dobber is another good one…or dunderhead, my personal favorite.”
“You have a favorite word for fool?” I laughed.
“Aye, I do.” I could have stared forever at the wrinkle that formed on his cheek when he smiled; I loved it so much. His easy charm was hard to resist, and I was completely captivated by him.
“Come on, let me help. I don’t know what to do with myself in the kitchen if I’m not cooking.”
“Fine. You can set the table. The prawns are almost done, and there’s a scallop and asparagus salad in the fridge. I also have a regular salad, if you ken how to dress it up.”
“I do ken how to dress up a salad, sir.”
“Sir, aye?” he repeated with a wicked gleam.
“Aye,” I said in a playful tone as I gathered the ingredients for an or
ange vinaigrette.
“Hey, Sam.”
“What is it?” I turned in his direction, only to have my cheek covered with a dollop of cream. I stared at him in shock as an ornery smile stretched across his face. “What did you do that for?” I asked him, the tone of my voice higher than normal.
“So that I can do this,” he said before leaning down and licking my cheek. He cleaned my skin and placed soft, feather-like kisses on my cheek and neck. Our lips clashed a moment later, our tongues dancing together, hungry and needy. He pressed me against the counter, rolling his hips against mine, letting me feel how hard and ready he was for me.
I tugged the hair on the back of his neck gently and kissed him fast and hard. I pulled his hair with a little more force so he would stop and look at me.
“Stop teasing me. Let’s eat and be done with it so you can fuck me.”
His voice was gruff, heavy with lust. “Your wish is my command.”
Hugh
The Saturday after the party, I found a way for the two of us to go to the cottage down in the valley. The guys wanted to go on a hike on a mountain an hour away from St. Martin, but I lied and said I felt a bit under the weather. I needed to talk to Sam about what I had found out, but I didn’t want to do it there. The night before, someone had come over and knocked on my door while she was there. We were upstairs, and I pretended I wasn’t home. After a while, I got several messages from Mick and Marcus saying I needed to join them at Frank’s house, where they were all partying together.
I needed to talk to her in a place where we wouldn’t be interrupted.
I needed to know the whole story, and I wanted to hear it from her.
We left early on Saturday morning before the sun was even out. It would have taken us a couple of hours to get to the cottage on foot, but it only took about forty minutes by car. A few weeks after we’d spotted the cottage, I had gone there by myself. The place was deserted, and a sign by the door with the owner’s name and phone number told me it was a rental property. Through the windows, I could tell the place was furnished. At the back of the house, there was plenty of wood stacked up, and the cottage even had solar panels nearby. Curious to see how it looked inside, I managed to get in and was pleased to discover it was even cozier than I had imagined. The view from the top floor was astounding—you could see the ocean from one of the bedrooms.
In that moment, I knew Sam was going to love it.
I couldn’t wait to see her reaction.
I had to admit, a small part of me had reservations about her because of what I had found out. Even so, I knew I had to hear her side of the story before casting judgment.
We got to the cottage when it was still dark out.
I had told her I was taking her there, but she didn’t know it was a rental or that we’d be spending the night.
The first thing I did when we got there was turn the thermostat on—I wished the owner of the place had done so himself already because it was a bit chilly. It was the first weekend of November, and although a temperature of five degrees Celsius was average to me, I knew it felt like the dead of winter to Sam.
I grabbed some wood from a basket near the fireplace and lit a fire then glanced at her moving around the place, taking in every little detail.
“Are we sleeping here tonight?” she asked excitedly.
“We are.”
“Do you want me to make some coffee…or, um, tea?”
“Coffee, please.”
I exhaled, thinking we should probably talk about what I’d found out sooner rather than later. My chest tightened at the thought of bringing up the subject. As much as I needed to know the whole truth, I didn’t want to upset her.
As soon as I got the fire going, I stood up and walked to the kitchen.
She’d already started the coffee and was opening the cabinets looking for mugs.
“Aha! Found them.”
“Sam, I need to tell you something,” I said hesitantly.
“What is it?” she asked, turning my way for a second, her face brightened by a sweet smile. She grabbed one mug and set it on the counter, and then picked another one that said Best Maw Ever in pink. She laughed.
“I know what happened in LA…with you and Eric.” She looked at me with a shocked expression. Her grasp on the mug loosened, and we watched it fall to the floor and shatter into a million pieces.
“God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said, kneeling down on the floor to pick up the pieces.
“It’s just a silly mug,” I told her.
“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure the first rule when renting a place is to not break anything.”
“Sam,” I said, grabbing her wrist. “I don’t give a damn about the mug.” She looked down and nodded, her eyes heavy with remorse. We finished picking up the pieces in silence, and then I wiped the floor down with a paper towel, trying to collect all the small ceramic shards. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye as she picked another mug, placed it on the counter, and poured the black coffee.
“Is this why you brought me here? To tell me you knew about me?” She wasn’t looking at me, but I knew from the choked sound of her voice that she was trying to hold back the tears.
I placed a hand on the small of her back. “That’s not the reason why. I wanted to be here with you…but I also needed to talk to you,” I said, trying to sound as reassuring as I could.
She turned around to face me, eyes glossy and lips trembling.
“I wanted to tell you, I really did.”
“Why didn’t you then?”
“It’s just…things have been finally going right between us, and I wanted to enjoy it a little bit longer.” She let out a deep breath and looked down, and then her eyes met mine again. This time, there was no trace of remorse or sadness in them, only resignation. “Look, I understand if you want to take me home right now. I should have been honest with you since the first time we kissed, if not earlier. I know I’m no good for you, especially not right now when your career is about to take off.”
“Sam, what the bloody hell are you even talking about?”
“You brought me here to break up with me, didn’t you?”
Her words hit me like a wave, the shock causing my blood to rush to my head. The palms of my hands were sweaty, and I suddenly felt anxious—I thought I was in danger of losing her.
Sam
He was breathing heavily, staring at me through stormy eyes, looking as if he’d been trying to collect his thoughts. Did he know everything? Did he hate me?
“I will admit I have been worried about…what I found out. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about it, but I took some time to reflect.”
“And?” I asked with a frown.
“I don’t think what you did is going to make me like you less, but I need to know the whole story, Sam, and I need to hear it from you.”
I nodded. “I wanted to tell you so many times, actually. I don’t know why, but I always felt the need to let you know, even before—” I said as I looked at him sheepishly. It was the truth; even before we’d kissed, I had always felt the overwhelming urge to open up to him, as though something in my blood told me he wouldn’t judge me for what I had done and how impulsive I had been.
“I do have to say, I’m kind of surprised no one on set has mentioned it so far—not even when it came out that Mira was my sister. I’m shocked no one has put two and two together. It was in the press, on the Internet, social media…it was everywhere. What I’ve done was everywhere.” I glanced up to him, and for the first time ever, I felt guilty. I didn’t feel guilty for what I had done, but I did feel guilty for not telling him the truth.
He was going to break up with me, I just knew it.
I took a deep breath. “I told you how Eric was cheating on me with my boss…well, I didn’t just find out…I found out the night the show we worked on won a Golden Globe. It was during the ceremony. I left the ballroom to meet him and congratulate him. I thought it was going to be a special
night for us…”
He took my hands in his and brushed his thumbs across my knuckles, nudging me to go on. “And? What happened?”
“I saw them kissing…Eric and Quinn, I mean. They were co-writers and co-creators. I-I was devastated. In a moment, I saw my relationship go up in smoke. I don’t think I’ve ever been more heartbroken. It was…awful. What he—what they did to me was awful.” I gave him a sheepish, remorseful look, and I almost smiled when I saw that the expression on his face was leaning toward understanding instead of judging.
“Did you confront him that night?” he asked in a deep, gravelly tone. His voice sounded so calm and reassuring, but I couldn’t afford to keep my hopes up.
“I couldn’t. It wasn’t a good time. I told him I felt sick and went home.”
“So, when did you let him know you knew? It must have been terrible for you to swallow that. You two had been together a long time, right?”
“Seven years.”
“That’s longer than a lot of marriages,” he reflected, raising one eyebrow.
“I never told Eric I had seen him that night, Hugh. I didn’t confront him right away. I stayed with him.”
“You stayed with him?”
“Yes. For months. For four months, I collected evidence,” I muttered, absorbed in my memories. “Lots of evidence.” My mind went back to the beginning of the year, and as my head was flooded with memories, I told Hugh the whole story.
I slept with the enemy for months. For roughly sixteen weeks, I acted like the devoted girlfriend I had always been. I laughed at his jokes, I bought him his favorite beer, I picked up after him, and I found his shit when he couldn’t. I never put up a fight, never raised a red flag. I had a mission to accomplish, and I could only do that if I kept up the charade. I had sex with him even when I didn’t want to. Sometimes I would come, despite not wanting to enjoy it. I went down on him any time he hinted at a blow job. I never questioned his excuses or late nights.
In a way, it was almost funny. Men can be so fucking unobservant. I basically ran the whole sting under Eric’s nose, and he never suspected anything.
Lost in Scotland Page 19
