The One

by Kristin Vayden

  “What did she say?” Kirby asked from behind me, close enough that his breath brushed by my ear, tickling it, warming it.

  “None of your business,” I answered, spun around him and walked toward the door.

  “Give me one moment.” I watched and Kirby went back to our table, pulled out several bills, and laid them down. “Let’s go before she sees me.” He rushed back to me, grasped my hand, and pulled me out the door.

  “What did you do?” I asked as we slowed down to a relaxing pace.

  His blue eyes twinkled. “None of your business.”

  “Fine. I deserve that.”

  “Yes. You do. Now…” He led us across the Royal Mile and back up toward where we parked. “About that IOU. The first one, mind you.”

  “Yeah?” The steep hill made me out of breath.

  “You need to do more cardio.”

  “I need to stop eating tattie scones,” I corrected.

  “Both. You need both.”

  “Fine! Why are you so bossy?”

  “Because my ideas are better than yours,” he answered immediately.

  I snorted. “Don’t give any thought to the answer or anything.”

  “Tell me this.” He clicked the fob for the car and it chirped as it unlocked. “What’s wrong with being bossy?” He opened the car door for me and waited till I was in then shut it.

  While he walked around, I thought of my answer. “Because when you’re bossy, you’re telling me what to do. I’m an adult.”

  “And?”

  “And? And I know what to do!”

  He pulled out into traffic and flipped a U-turn so that we were going back down the Royal Mile. “Is that so? Then I’d have to say you’re quite arrogant.”

  “What? Why? Because I have my own opinion? Because I can take care of myself?”

  “Let me ask you this. What’s wrong with someone taking care of you?” His eyes never left the road, but his hands twisted the leather of the steering wheel making it squeak.

  “Well… nothing as long as it’s taking care of me, not controlling.”

  “And where’s the line?”

  “I… hmm. Let me think.”

  “Merry… someone who controls you is looking out for their own benefit and how you contribute to it, based on your actions or reactions. When you are taking care of someone, it’s an act of selflessness. Thinking and acting on the behalf of the other person despite its possible negative impact on yourself.”

  The sound of the engine was the only break in the silence of the car as I processed what he said. “You’re right. That’s actually a pretty perfect example.”

  “So that brings me back to my question. Merry, what’s wrong with being taken care of?” His blue eyes darted from the road to mine, spearing through me.”

  “Nothing.”

  “Good.” He nodded and turned right onto a different street.

  “What does that have to do with the IOU?” I asked, oddly curious.

  He glanced to me. “Absolutely nothing. Just making my point.” He turned back to the road. “Honestly, I’m thinking I’ll just keep the two IOU’s in my pocket for the moment. ’Tis nothing I need from you, and you never know when I’ll come across a perfect opportunity.”

  “I need to put a time limit on these IOU’s. You can’t pull them from your ass when you’re seventy.”

  “Fine, fine. What do you suggest?”

  I thought about it. Technically, I was to be in Scotland for two weeks — a week for each guy — but with ticket prices, we got a better deal if we changed that to ten days total, which left me with only five left. Huh, that seemed like a really short amount of time. I glanced to Kirby, studying his profile. I was really going to miss him.

  Miss this.

  “If you think any harder you’re going to start smoking from your ears.”

  Yes, really, really miss this. I rolled my eyes. “Before I leave.”

  “And how long do I have to endure the punishment of your presence?” Kirby asked with a grin.

  “Not nearly long enough to account for your many sins.” I smiled sweetly in return.

  “True. Cannot argue with that.” He shrugged and pulled a left onto the street of my hotel. “But in days…”

  “Five,” I said quietly.

  “Five,” he repeated, his tone soft like mine. “I think I can come up with two IOU’s in five days.”

  “Good… I think.”

  He pulled into the first space in front of the hotel and put the car in park.

  “It’s okay, I got it from here.” I opened my door and stepped onto the curb.

  Kirby tossed his keys to the valet and reached for my hand as we walked up the stairs. “While I’m quite sure you’re capable of taking care of yourself, I made a promise to Sharon that I’d get you some air. And knowing you, once you get to your hotel room you’ll flip on Netflix and not move for the next several hours.”

  “Will not.” I hated that he knew exactly what I was planning.

  “You need to move.”

  “I need to — fine. I know. I need to move.” I whimpered a bit.

  “Don’t be such a pansy. You’ll thank me later.”

  I pressed the elevator button. “Will not.” The elevator dinged and we entered. I cocked my head as I studied him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted to be around me, Kirby.”

  “Good thing you know better.”

  “Yeah, well. It’s okay. Your secret is safe with me.” I winked.

  “Can you find your key? Because if you can’t there’s always mine.” He slipped it from his pocket and waved it tauntingly.

  “Keep it. After last night I’m pretty sure any sort of privacy is out the window.” I shrugged and walked out the open elevator doors and down the hall.

  I waved to the door and waited. Kirby’s lips twitched in a grin as he unlocked the door and held it open for me.

  “I think this should be considered an IOU fulfillment,” I mentioned as I tossed my purse on the bed as usual.

  “Nope. I didn’t ask, you offered. It’s completely different.”

  “There was no offer, you lied and stole,” I enunciated.

  “Still doesn’t count.”

  “Fine. I’m taking a shower. Make yourself… at home?” I unzipped my suitcase and pulled out fresh clothes as Kirby flopped onto the bed and turned on ESPN.

  He blew me a kiss as I glared at him.

  I wanted to be on that bed… watching Netflix.

  Damn him.

  But honestly, I wanted a shower more.

  And maybe some Tums so my stomach would stop doing a weird gurgling thing.

  The hot water — however low pressure it might be — felt amazing and it was like all the whisky and tattie scones washed down the drain along with the dirt. I took my time drying my hair and putting on makeup then dressing. I clicked the bathroom door open and walked out into the room.

  Kirby’s whistle greeted me. “You clean up nice.”

  “Why, thank you.” I tossed my dirty clothes into a bag.

  “Here. This will help with your stomach.” He handed me a mug with steaming tea, not black but a greenish color.

  “Thanks.”

  “’Tis nothing.” He picked up his own mug and blew across the top, sending the steam swirling. “Feel better?”

  “Like I’m alive, not the walking dead.”

  “I’d say that’s an improvement.”

  “To say the least.” I took a sip, savoring the wonderful aroma and flavor of the green tea tips.

  “You ready to go?” He asked as I finished my tea.

  “Do I have another option?”

  “No.”

  “Figured. Let’s go then.” I stood and grabbed my purse and walked out the door.

  “First stop, my flat.”

  I whistled. “Your place? Wow… I feel honored.”

  “You should.”

  We took the elevator down to the lobby, and in no time were speedi
ng down the road toward the older part of Edinburgh.

  “So where you do you live?”

  “In Edinburgh.”

  “I missed that.”

  He smiled and turned left down a tree-lined street. “Just a few minutes away actually.”

  “So all those times you snuck into my room—”

  “It was convenient.”

  “All I can think of is how you’re such a pain in the ass but it seems I’m always saying that! I obviously need to expand my vocabulary when it comes to annoying turn phrases.”

  “Expanding your mind. I approve.”

  I twisted my lips. “Really.”

  “Sarcasm isn’t pretty.”

  “We’re done with this conversation.”

  “I win again.”

  “Not a competition!”

  “Everything is, Merry. Everything.” He turned to go down into a lower parking garage. He swiped a card and parked in a wide spot designated for 11B.

  “Wait.” He got out of the car and I watched, curious.

  He opened my door and offered me his hand. “Okay, now you can get out. I know you’re perfectly capable of opening your door, but really… what’s the fun of being gentleman if you can’t actually act like one?”

  Valid. “Thank you.”

  Once we got to the elevator, Kirby pressed the button for the top floor.

  “Must have a killer view.”

  “It’s okay.”

  The sound of quiet elevator music filled the silence. “You‘re quiet.”

  He turned to me just as the elevator dinged for the floor. “Silence is golden.”

  “I totally agree… except I know you. And you talk more than me,” I countered then stepped out onto a lush carpeted hall with two doors, one on either end.

  Kirby walked to the left, and I followed.

  Once he unlocked the door, it opened to a wall of sunlight as the Edinburgh skyscape came into view.

  “Holy crap,” I whispered as I walked toward the windows.

  “Yeah, it’s pretty beautiful.”

  “It’s amazing…” The view of the sea was breathtaking, along with all the old stone buildings — way better than any Seattle penthouse view.

  “Give me just a few minutes. Make yourself at home.” He tossed his keys on some surface, startling me from my admiration of the view. I glanced around the apartment, or flat, as he called it. Dark wood floors were glossy against a stainless steel kitchen. Lush carpet supported dark leather furniture and a massive flat screen centered on the wall. It was beautiful, it was expensive, it was… sterile.

  I walked around looking for pictures, any signs of life. Several books were stacked on the coffee table, and there were a few dishes in the sink. Clearly, he lived here but it was just so… cold.

  And Kirby was anything but cold.

  “Okay, lass I’m ready.” Kirby strutted from his room in perfectly fitting dark denim jeans and a button-up shirt.

  ”Whew, snazzy.”

  He cocked a brow. “I know.”

  “Humility looks good on you.”

  He chuckled and walked into the kitchen, retrieved two water bottles from the fridge and handed me one. “Have you been to the sea yet?”

  I unscrewed the top and took a long drink of the cool water. “Nope.”

  “The sea it is.” He walked to the door.

  “So, Kirby…” I started as I took one final glance around his apartment.

  “Yes?”

  “When you said you were slumming it at my hotel room… you meant it.” I tilted my head.

  He glanced around to the room as if to say the answer was obvious.

  “Why?”

  He regarded me for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Because… just because something is expensive doesn’t mean it’s warm. Or inviting.”

  I watched him for a moment, studying the contradiction. “Kirby?”

  He tucked his hands in his pockets, his expression slightly guarded. “Yes?”

  “You’re warm.” I walked up to him, placed my hands on his shoulders, and reached up, kissing him softly.

  He returned the kiss gently. His lips caressed mine with a sweet affection that was all the more passionate because of its tenderness. “I have something I want to show you,” he spoke the words against my lips then nipped at them playfully.

  “Oh?” I licked his lower lip with my tongue.

  “Yeah. Come on.” He give me one final kiss and tucked my hand in his, leading us down the hallway and back to the parking garage.

  “Can the sea wait?” He asked as we pulled out of the garage.

  “It’s not going anywhere,” I flirted with a grin.

  “Indeed, it’s not.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked as he started to wind around an older part of the city.

  “Home,” he answered simply. “It was my first flat in Edinburgh. If I had my way, I’d stay there always but…” He took a breath. “But an address can say a lot about you, and when you deal with real estate…”

  I nodded. “Location, location, location.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So this place… location isn’t stellar?”

  “Location sucks,” he replied with a teasing smirk. “But the flat…” His words faded. “It’s very warm.” He kept his eyes on the road, not turning to me.

  “I’ll love it,” I murmured then watched through my window as the city passed.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SURE ENOUGH, WE pulled over on a small side street. After Kirby opened my door — without having to tell me to wait for him — I noticed the concrete was heavily cracked and mixed with cobble. The stone buildings had stairs going up to higher floors and stairs going down to floors that looked semi-underground.

  “This way.” Kirby took my hand and led me to a flight of stairs. We went up two flights before he opened a door that led down a hallway with a faded line down the center of the carpet from years of use. The air had a faint hint of curry and the ground creaked with each step. He paused in front of the door that had a gold ‘2C’ beside it.

  “There’s a trick to it, better than any alarm.” He winked then leaned against the door as he inserted the key. He turned it, leaned away from the door and turned it farther. A click of unlocking sounded, but when he pushed against the door, it refused to open.

  “That’s some trick you’ve got there.” I leaned against the wall and grinned.

  He snorted, took a step back, and gave the door a slight kick.

  It swung open just as the gold ‘2C’ beside my head swung upside down.

  “Classy.” I laughed as I righted it.

  “Do you want to go inside or stay in the hall?” He asked with an impatient grin.

  “Hmmm… hall or…?” I peeked inside, and a second later Kirby gently shoved me past the threshold and kicked the door closed.

  “Make up yer mind.” He flipped on the lights and illuminated the room.

  It was much smaller than his other apartment, but it was everything his other apartment lacked — life. The walls were painted a deep red that brought out the rich caramel color of the hardwood floors. A few faded rugs separated the small living room from the hallway that I assumed led to the kitchen. Two doors bordered the living room, and a semi-circular fireplace sat on the wall in between. Light poured through tall windows with sheer curtains and the tall ceiling had thick crown molding that finished the look of old beauty.

  “Much better.” I nodded my approval. “You even have a fireplace.” I walked toward the black iron grate.

  “Aye, it’s lovely… when it works.” He tossed his keys on a side table.

  “It’s temperamental huh?” I grinned back at him.

  He tucked his hands in his pocket, appearing completely at ease — at home. “Like its owner.”

  “Word.”

  “Yeah… you really shouldn’t say things like that.” He shook his head and walked toward the narrow hallway, flipping on a light and showing off the w
orld’s smallest kitchen.

  “That’s not a kitchen, that’s a closet.” I walked over toward him, marveling that he even fit in the small space.

  He pulled out a spatula and shook it at me. “I dinna share my kitchen with anyone.”

  “Noted… not that I’d fit in there with you. Are you eating again? Because I’m not so sure—”

  His laughter interrupted me. “No. I don’t think you should eat for at least a week or two.”

  “Funny, ha ha.”

  “This is actually for the fireplace.”

  “Say what?” I moved out of the way as he walked past heading for the fireplace.

  He knelt down and cleared out some ash with the spatula into a paper sack, then shoved the spatula up a bit into the chimney, coughing as dust filtered down.

  “Chim chimney, chim, chimney chim chim—”

  “Bloody Mary Poppins,” he grumbled. “Knock it off.”

  “I always loved Bert. Had a thing for him.” I leaned against the sofa.

  He used a small broom beside the wall to clean his mess. “I find that both disturbing and yet not surprising.” He rose, dusted his hands, and walked back to the kitchen.

  “I assume you’re going to make a fire?” I asked with a grin.

  “No, I’m going to start a fire,” he corrected me.

  “Whatever, I’m just happy.” I flopped into the couch, coughing as a bit of dust rose up. “Uh, not to complain but when was the last time you stayed here?”

  “Two nights ago.” He knelt down beside the fireplace and started to wrap up paper and kindling.

  “Got it.” I nodded then glanced around again. The windows were calling to me, so I got back up and walked over to them, moving the curtain aside. A horn honked as traffic passed by on the semi-busy street the apartment overlooked. In the distance, I could see a bit of the sea, but mostly it was just old stone buildings just like this one, with small stores below them advertising food or beer.

  “I think we’re good.”

  I turned as Kirby rose up, placing his hands on his hips.

  “If we’re not… what exactly will happen?” I asked, watching the flames with some suspicion.

  “Fire alarm.”

  “You sound like that’s a pretty common occurrence.”