by Kimber Davis
"Martin is harmless, really. Just push him away. Whatever you do, don't slap him. If you assault him there could be trouble." Despite his words, though, when the man had sat down, Stuart had gone to his table and taken his order. That had pushed Stuart up a few notches in Ivy's opinion. He'd told her she'd have to deal with it, and then when the man came in, he'd come to her rescue without being asked.
Ivy turned on a faucet and rinsed out a towel, twisting out the excess water before taking it to a table that had recently emptied. She gathered the dirty dishes, just two mugs and a plate, and then ran the hot towel over the table.
Once she'd taken the dirty dishes back to the wash area she would come back with cleaner to take care of the table properly. She sat the rag down, her mind once again on how Stuart had helped her with the Martin situation. She was so focused on what she was doing that she jumped, and dropped the mugs when there was a sharp pinch on her behind. She dropped the glassware and it fell to the ground, shattering.
"Crap." She turned to find Martin standing behind her, a huge grin on his face. She drew back her hand to slap him, and then remembered Stuart's words about keeping her hands to herself. So she did the next best thing she could think of. She reached over to an occupied table, grabbed a pitcher of beer and threw it in Martin's face.
His smile disappeared quickly as he sputtered and wiped his eyes. "Bitch."
"Who the hell do you think you are, grabbing my ass?" What was it with these people? First a man she hardly knew spanked her, and then this one thought she was his personal play toy.
Stuart stepped in front of her, eying the broken glasses before turning his gaze on Martin.
"Get out."
"All I did was..."
"I saw what you did, and I told you about keeping your hands to yourself earlier, didn't I? Leave now before I say you can't ever come back."
"Who would want to with the bitch here?" Martin glared at her before grabbing his coat and heading out the door.
The pub broke out in laughter and a ladies voice rang out that "it was about time someone handled the blighter."
Ivy glanced at Stuart, expecting him to be angry. Instead he grinned at her and winked.
"I'll go and get the broom. You stay here and make sure nobody walks through the glass."
Loud noises filled the air and Ivy wondered why she'd simply not walked away instead of causing a scene. Martin would tell his friends, who might stop coming to the pub. Of course there were only a few more places in town they could go, including The Brickman. What would happen then, if people quit coming because one of the new owners was likely to throw a pitcher of beer in your face?
Stuart returned and they cleaned up the glass together. She took a pitcher of beer to the table she'd "borrowed" one from, and then walked behind the counter. The barman winked at her, a huge smile on his face. Two of the other waitresses patted her on the back, and then she turned to Stuart.
"I'm sorry. He..."
"Shush. We'll discuss it after everyone's gone. I'd rather not have the chance of someone listening to the conversation."
She nodded, and then went back to work. The rest of the night seemed to drag. She didn't think he was angry with her, but she could be wrong. He seemed to take it in stride, seemed to think she'd done the right thing. But if he didn't what would happen then?
Just before closing she railed against herself for wondering how he was going to handle their conversation. He was her partner, not her boss. If a man had pinched his ass she didn't think he would sit still for it.
Still, images of the spanking he'd given her when she'd first arrived took root in her mind. Stuart wasn't a person you wanted mad at you, and partner or not, she was pretty sure he'd spank her again if she did something he thought warranted it. And she was sure he thought this situation called for a punishment.
As the night wore on the crowd thinned out. He'd sent home both waitresses and the bartender, so that when closing time came around it was just the two of them working.
When everyone was gone, he locked the door and turned to her. She grimaced, and then put her hands on her hips. "Don't you dare go off on me."
"I'm not planning on it," he replied. "Martin was out of line, and you handled it in such a way so that it won't happen again, I can assure you."
She examined his face carefully, wondering if he was just putting her on, or if he really meant it. They stared at each one in silence for a few minutes, and then Stuart sighed.
"Let's get cleaned up, shall we? I don't know about you but it's been a long night, and I'm a little tired."
His words left her strangely empty. She'd been itching for some type of fight, hoping he would challenge her on her handling of the situation. When he walked behind the counter and started to wash dishes she watched him in confusion.
"That's it?"
"Yes, that's it."
"You're not going to scream at me about drenching a customer?"
"I saw him pinch your ass. I was on my way over to kick him out, but you took care of it yourself. I'm proud of you."
"Humph." She cautiously stepped behind the bar, watched him for a few more minutes, and then bent over to retrieve a stack of napkins.
The sharp retort of a towel popping through the air reached her ears seconds before the towel snapped across her ass, the sting sharp.
"Hey!" She stood up and rubbed her behind. "What was that for?"
"For not having faith in me. You thought I was going to be mad at you. You should trust me more." He popped the towel again and she turned just in time for it to land on her ass again.
"That's it!" She grabbed her own towel and pulled it between her hands, rolling it tightly. She let it fly, landing it on his thigh, her eyes widening.
"What it," he said with a grin. "The family jewels are near there."
"Jewels, or stones?"
"Jewels, luv, they sparkle." She squealed as he aimed another strike at her. Ivy took quick cover, running to the end of the bar with Stuart hot on her tail. He struck her behind twice more and she laughed at the yell of triumph he gave.
He turned just as she let her towel fly, and it landed on his ass. He jumped, and then turned a mock evil glint on her. "Bad girl."
She tightened her hold on the towel and wrapped it taut, letting it fly again. The towel struck dangerously close to his crotch and he yelped. He looked down as if to check and see if his package was damaged, then lifted his gaze back to her, shaking his head.
"You shouldn't have done that. I've been careful to strike your bum. Now I'm going to have to strike it with my hand." He lunged for her and before she could get away he grabbed her around the waist, angling her so that she was partly bent over a barstool.
His hand came down on her behind and she cried out, more in laughter than in pain. He gave her a few more swats, grabbing her hands as she tried to bring them back to protect her bottom.
"Now, behave. Say you're sorry."
"Are you kidding me? You started this. You're the one who popped me with the towel." He landed several more swats and she laughed harder.
"Say you're sorry, this instant."
"No!" She struggle to get away, but Stuart held her tight, slapping her jean-clad ass a few more times before turning her toward him. Their gazes locked as he held her close, his hands grasping her wrists.
"Say it."
"No." She stuck out her lips in an exaggerated pout, and then laughed. The laugh turned into a deep groan when he kissed her, his lips covering her open mouth, his tongue moving inside gently.
He let go of one her wrists, his hand coming up to cup her cheek and gently stroke her skin with his thumb. "Say you're sorry." His voice was deep with desire and Ivy felt the stirrings of need deep inside her.
Her mind told her this was wrong, that she shouldn't allow it to happen. Still, it was just a kiss, right? She pushed up on her toes, bringing their lips together again.
His body felt hard next to hers and it made her sigh again. When the
kiss broke, he gazed down at her, amusement in his eyes. "Say it, or I'll spank you until you do."
"Try it, buster." He wheeled her around, his hand coming down on her behind over and over until she was laughing so hard she couldn't talk. The strikes weren't hard, but they did sting just a little. Still, the pain was nothing like what she'd felt the first time he'd spanked her. When she finally caught her breath she pressed against the counter and squealed.
"Fine, fine, I'm sorry I popped the towel so close to your jewels."
"Much better." He clasped her face and turned it toward him, claiming her lips in a possessive kiss that made her toes curl. His hands ran up her sides, stopping just below her breasts. She moaned softly and wiggled and he moved his hands up, cupping each one of her breasts. He kneaded them gently, his hands searching over her blouse and bra to find her nipples and gently squeeze them. The
"Stuart, I think..."
"Yes, I do too." He stepped back. "I want you, but this is hardly the right place. Plus, I'm not sure it's the right time."
"How long do you think we should wait?"
"At least until after the party on Friday," he said. "Although I've wanted you since the minute I laid eyes on you, bad attitude and all."
"Liar."
"No, I'm not lying. I'm glad you decided to stay for your father, but also for me." He kissed her neck as his hands continued to caress her breasts. "I want to make love to you right now, but I don't want you to come back later and say it was done in the heat of the moment."
He kissed her again, his tongue gently probing her mouth, sliding over her teeth and flicking against her tongue. "Tonight, we go home a little frustrated. But be warned that after the party on Friday, I'm going to make love to you. Understood?"
His kiss was soft and gentle, and she wanted to scream that she didn't want to wait until Friday.
"Most definitely. Just leave your spanking hand at home that night."
He cocked an eyebrow at her, and then licked his lips. "We'll see."
Chapter Six
Ivy hadn't expected so many people at the dinner party. The huge crush, and the loud, boisterous voices made her worried that it would all be too much for her father, who sat quietly on the couch, tucked into a corner with a blanket wrapped around his legs.
He seemed happy, and was laughing at a joke told by one of his cousins, a man whose name she couldn't remember. Beth sat nearby, watching him carefully. Ivy had no doubt that if the nurse thought something was wrong, she'd take care of it in two seconds flat, and everything would be fine.
The truth was, in the weeks Ivy had been in Scotland it seemed as if her father's health had improved. His color was better, and he was spending more time sitting up in bed, or even getting up to travel to the little sitting room next to his room, so he and Ivy could sit and play chess.
She liked to think her presence in Scotland had something to do with his improvement. Maybe her being around made him feel better, gave him a reason to live, so to speak. It wasn't unheard of, she knew, for ill people to hang on for one more holiday, or for the chance to spend time with someone.
Reasons aside, she was happy that he was doing better, and she hoped it continued.
Ivy glanced around the room, examining crowd one more time. The fact she was related to most of the people present hit her as strange. It was such a new concept to her, to have aunts, uncles, cousins and their wives or husbands, and their children. And every last one of them wanted to say something to her, to talk and laugh and ask her questions about life in America.
Most of them had fun stories to tell about her father, too. The tales had been coming so fast at first that it had been hard to keep track of who told her what. A few of her female cousins had described his overprotective attitude toward the men they dated, checking them out behind their backs to make sure they were on the up and up.
That information had floored Ivy, until she'd figured out why he'd done it. She was sure he was checking to make sure the men weren't like him, and likely to leave his nieces in the lurch. She wasn't exactly sure how she'd felt about that. Part of her thought it was because he felt guilty about how things had turned out with Ivy and her mother, and he was trying to make amends.
If that was the case, however, she wished he'd made some effort to contact Ivy, and not find surrogate daughters. She pushed that thought to the back of her mind. Spending time wishing for things to be different in the past was a waste of time. She needed to deal with her feelings and move on.
Things had turned out as they had, and there was no reason to dwell on it. That would take away time she had with her father, now. She wondered how he would feel when everyone was gone, if he would be up to their daily chess game or not.
"You look like the weight of the world is on your shoulders," Stuart said, sliding down on the couch next to her. She felt the heaviness of his thigh press against hers and a thrill shot through her. Since their encounter at the bar he'd been subtle about his intentions. He hadn't kissed her again, but he'd touched her lightly, sometimes on the shoulder, sometimes on the hip, and once, when they were in the stockroom, he'd smacked her behind. She'd wheeled on him and stuck her finger in his face but he'd just laughed and gone into the other room.
It was very telling about her feelings, she thought, that she hadn't gone after him and screamed about him keeping his hands to himself. She'd tried to keep her distance since then, though, and he hadn't pushed. Until tonight.
Was she using the chess game as an excuse to keep from being alone with Stuart? Did she want to be alone with him? Something told her she might just give in to him if given the chance, and she wasn't sure that was a good thing. Of course she wasn't sure that was a bad thing, either. She just wasn't sure about anything lately.
"If you ignore me, I might have to spank you, just to get your attention." His voice sounded right near her ear, and she halfheartedly pushed him away.
"Stop it."
"What are you thinking about so seriously, when everyone around you is laughing and having a good time?"
"You want the truth?" She turned to him, and found his face right next to hers. "Scoot over. People are going to wonder why we're sitting so close."
"Yes, I want the truth. And now, I won't move."
"You're a pig." She sighed. "I was thinking about my father, and about meeting my new family."
"They're all in awe of you," he said with a laugh. "I'm happy to see that you're getting along with them."
"We're getting along, but I would hardly say they're in awe. Shock, maybe, that I've stuck around, but not awe."
This time when she turned her head toward him he was right there; there was no breathing space and his proximity made her blood heat. When his lips touched hers gently she bit back a sigh. Damn him!
There was a loud murmur of approval from several of her family members and she blushed furiously. Pushing away from him would prove embarrassing, and too many people would wonder why she was making such a big deal out of a little kiss, for that's what it had been. Still, they might wonder why she'd let him kiss her. They would all, including her father, think something was up between them and she wasn't sure she wanted that to happen. To try and ward off expectations from her father she did the only thing she could think to do; she slapped at his chest and said playfully, "behave," hoping they would see it as nothing more than a joke between them, and wouldn't push the subject.
It seemed to work. Nobody asked if they were a couple, or teased them about the kiss. Still, from the corner of her eye she could see her father, watching her carefully. She had no doubt as to the thoughts running through his mind. He liked Stuart, and if Ivy and Stuart were a couple, then Ivy would certainly stay in Scotland for a while.
She wondered, briefly, if that was Stuart's main reasoning for hitting on her like he had this week. She'd like to think it was just for the pleasure of her company, but then again, maybe it was because it would please her father, and Stuart liked doing that.
She
said a silent prayer that wasn't the case, then turned to listen as James recanted a camping trip he'd taken with Uncle Ham near Loch Ness, where they'd drank a lot of whiskey and stayed up all night looking for "Nessie."
And as the night wore on, and more and more people left, Ivy worried about what was coming next. She couldn't allow herself to fall for Stuart. It would end in disaster, she was sure of it. They lived an ocean apart for one thing. Plus, she could never let herself get tangled up with a man who thought it was fine for him to spank a woman.
Memories of the first spanking he'd given her pushed to the front of her mind. She figured she'd deserved that one, even if she wound never admit it to him. She'd been a teetotal witch to her father that evening, which was unacceptable, no matter what. But just because she'd done something to deserve it didn't make it right.
Of course that one was in direct contrast to the spanking he'd given her at the bar the other evening. She'd enjoyed that one. Quite a bit. Of course that one had been playful. The differences in the two amazed her quite a bit.
Still, she didn't want spanking to be part of any relationship she was part of, not for the long haul. Of course things with Stuart wouldn't be for the long haul, would they?
Ivy shook her head, then centered her thoughts on the people around her, trying to join in conversations and take in information about Scotland and her father.
When Beth stood, and James and Stuart helped to carry her father to his room, Ivy fell into step behind them. She could tell that her father was tired, and it looked as if he might fall asleep before they got to his room.
Once inside she helped Beth take off his shoes, then stepped back. His eyes were already shut and a fission of fear swept through her. "Is he all right?"
"I'm fine," he said, his voice low. "It's just been a very busy evening."
He opened his eyes and pointed at Ivy, waving everyone else off. "Sit with me for a few minutes, please."
When everyone was gone, she sat down, smiling when he took her hand in his. "Be careful."
"What?"
