Unwrapped Bundle with You Don't Know Jack & Bad Boys in Kilts

by Erin McCarthy

  “What?”

  She lifted a shoulder, but squeezed his hand where he’d linked his fingers through hers. “Maybe we’re just playing a giant game of Let’s Pretend and it will blow up in both of our faces because we’re not really dealing in reality.”

  “This is our reality.”

  She turned to face him more fully. “Reality is me mentioning coming by your place and you blanching at the mere thought of it. We shouldn’t just pretend you didn’t.”

  “I don’t believe we are.”

  “Because I’ve gone and pushed it. And I worry that if I push, you’ll walk. So I don’t. Or didn’t. But you seemed . . . when you crossed the field toward me earlier, I don’t know . . . it felt like you really missed me. There was a different sense when you scooped me up out there and I guess I just . . . I just wanted to let go of all the worry and allow myself to believe this is real and good and whole and . . . okay.”

  “It is real and good.”

  “But it’s not okay. We’re not okay.”

  “So, it’s only okay if things are smooth sailing then?”

  She sighed. “I don’t know what I’m saying anymore.” She pulled his hand up to her mouth and kissed the backs of his knuckles. “I just know I want you. And I want to be able to want you openly, fearlessly, and with everything there is in my heart. And to not worry that will scare you away.”

  “Have you no’ been doing that already?”

  “In my actions? Aye, I have. But I don’t want to be anything less than everything I am when I’m with you.”

  “Haven’t you been?”

  She answered that by saying, “There’s a part of me I don’t share.”

  He frowned. He hadn’t thought she’d ever been anything but completely open with him. In fact, it was her absolute ease in being herself with him that so captivated him, and made it possible for him to be the same when he was with her. “And what part is that?”

  “The part that means sharing thoughts. Putting thoughts and feelings into words. I show you, but—”

  “But you don’t tell me.”

  She shook her head.

  “Because that would be pushing.”

  She nodded, then tipped her chin down, looking at their joined hands, watching as she traced her fingertips over the back of his hand.

  Shay slid his hand from hers, but only so he could reach down and release the lever that allowed his seat to slide all the way back. Then he reached for her. “Come here.”

  “Shay—”

  “Please.”

  She shifted so that he could pull her across the center stick and settle her in his lap, her back to the steering wheel, her lips inches from his own. He looked into her eyes. “I’ve already hurt you, and that was never my intent, you know that.”

  “You haven’t hurt me, Shay.”

  “The fact that you feel you can’t tell me every and anything that’s on your mind means I’m no’ being the man I want to be for you. I’m sorry for that.”

  “I know you’re trying, I do. And I’m happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. You do understand that.”

  “If you’re even a fraction as happy as I am, then aye, I understand that.”

  A little of the tension eased from her body then, but he knew they still had much ground to cover.

  She cupped his cheek. “I know it’s no’ something that will change overnight. I dinnae have the barriers you do, the worries.”

  “I’m no’ fragile, Kira. You’re treating me as if I’m some mental case, too unstable to hear the truth. Aye, I have some issues with happily ever after. But you’re the very best thing I could have ever hoped to have in my life, and I just want to make sure I can live up to your expectations.”

  “See, that’s what I meant, when I said to remember that you’re a wonder, too. You bring me just as much joy as you say I bring to you. Just by being you. It’s no’ like it’s a burden to love—” She broke off then, and looked away, her cheeks blooming a hot pink almost instantly.

  Shay’s heart stuttered badly and there was no stopping the tremor in his voice when he spoke, but speak he did. “Is that the part then that you’re not saying?”

  When she didn’t reply, he propped a finger beneath her chin and nudged her gaze back to his. It was with great alarm that he saw giant tears swimming in her eyes. “Kira, no, don’t, I didn’t mean to—”

  “I’m no’ fragile, either, Shay. Sometimes I’ll get my feelings hurt. And sometimes I’ll hurt yours. We’ll both get past it, for the very same reason that we were able to be hurt in the first place.” Two tears formed at the corners of her eyes, but he gently knuckled them away before they could fall, his heart ripping at the mere sight of them.

  “I hate it that I’ve made ye cry.”

  She smiled then, even as more tears formed. “But that’s a good thing, don’t you see?”

  “No. I feel like a bully and a lout.”

  She leaned forward and kissed him. And kept kissing him until he kissed her back. In fact, it was her sheer will and determination that had a burning sensation forming in his own eyes.

  Their kisses swiftly turned from gentle nudges to allconsuming heat. When she finally turned her mouth away from his, and buried her face in his neck, they were both panting hard, and the windows of the jitney had steamed over.

  “I cried because it scares me, how much I care for you, and that you may never care the same in return,” she said, the words muffled against the warm skin of his neck. “We both have our fears, Shay. The tears weren’t calculated.” She lifted her head then, and looked at him, her eyes still liquid and drenched with emotion. “But the look on your face when you saw them . . . went a long way toward . . .” She broke off then, and shook her head.

  He tipped her chin back to his, and knew she’d find his moist now as well. He saw the surprise, and the way her pupils expanded as she took that in.

  “Tell me,” he said, the words a bit hoarse. “Say . . . anything. No censoring, no editing. If we’re to figure this out, then maybe there can’t be a moratorium on what can and can’t be discussed. I don’t know, Kira. I don’t. I have no laws for this, no textbooks. I’m . . . winging it. And I don’t wing.”

  She gave a watery little snicker at that, and a bit of his heart was restored.

  “At least I don’t wing well,” he said, caressing her cheek now. “So, I’ll be more honest with you. I’d like to talk about my work more, with you. I don’t because it crosses the line, and because I’m afraid it will make you want to avoid talking to me. It’s a tough subject, and sensitive to us particularly. But . . . you bring me such perspective. About so many things. The kind I’ve never had before. Maybe it will make me better at my job, more compassionate, at least. I don’t know. But it’s also a big part of who I am, of what I do, and it’s . . . hard to keep myself from talking with you about it.” He drew his thumb over her bottom lip, and reveled in the way it made her shudder. “There, those are my words, my thoughts, the ones I edit, the ones I censor out. Now, will you tell me yours?”

  Her lips continued to tremble, even when he slid his finger away. “My thoughts,” she repeated, then let out a soft, wavering sigh. She held onto his gaze for several long moments, then seemed to gather herself. “I’m . . .” She trailed off, then gave a short, half laugh.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know that if there’s something you want to say, now or in the future . . . then say it.”

  “It’s no’ that. It’s . . . well, it’s silly really. In some ways I’m not at all traditional, but in some ways . . .” She let the sentence trail off, her thoughts trailing with it, then took another small breath, smoother this time, and returned her gaze to his, steadier now. “I will tell you why you’re a wonder to me. You’re strong, you’re steadfast, resilient, loyal. I feel completely and utterly cared for when you’re with me, as if no harm could ever come to me, because you simply wouldn’t allow it. And I realize that
might be fiction, but—”

  “It’s as true as I’d be able to humanly make it,” he said.

  Something in her expression melted, and she drew her hand along his cheek again. “That, right there. You’re direct, you don’t beat around the bush, and you don’t mind saying whatever it is you feel. You have no idea how rare that is. I appreciate the way you take things in, figure them out, and how you always have everyone’s best interests at heart. I’m certain that’s what makes you such a sought-after solicitor. I’d have been a very lucky woman indeed to have been represented by the likes of you during my own divorce.

  “And even though it tears you up to watch it, to be a part of it, you continue to do what you can, to do the best you can. You think yourself cynical and cold because you’ve worked hard not to let your work cut you up completely, but that’s just survival. If you were cold and unfeeling, you’d have had nothing to protect in the first place. And you’d have made a lousy lawyer. So, it’s all part and parcel. But you show me the same utter dedication you show your clients. You’re a passionate man, you are, and I feel . . . like I’m the only woman in the world when you look at me. You have no idea . . .” She broke off and her eyes grew moist again, only this time, her tears tugged on his heart in an entirely different way.

  “I want to be the man you speak of.”

  “You are,” she said. “That’s just it. You are. Flaws and fears and all. I’m far from perfect. I’ve my own insecurities. As much as a person can heal from being cheated on and utterly rejected and humiliated . . . I have. But I’m human. Of course it terrifies me that after I allow myself to be completely vulnerable to you, you might choose to walk away. I say I’ll heal, but it wouldn’t be an easy task. In fact, it scares the living daylights out of me.”

  “So . . . why are you risking it?”

  “Because,” she said, softly, “I’m only so scared because wha’ I have with you is so brilliant. I’d have to be daft to walk away from that, now wouldn’t I?”

  “Kira—”

  “Shay, we’ve known each other less than a month . . . but I’m falling in love with you. There.” She blew out a long breath. “I’ve gone and said it, haven’t I? Maybe I should have said it as it was happening. After all, if it’s going to spook you, then best to be spooked now, and well before I’m parading your laundry about town. But . . . I was afraid. It’s ridiculously soon, and I wondered if it was just me, reaching for security, without having the basis of knowledge, the foundation, to truly back it up. But then you show up at my door, and well . . . my heart, it just swells at the sight. I know what it is to love. I’ve loved before. And maybe time is of no real consequence, because . . .” She trailed off, lifted a shoulder, then looked away again. “I’ll stop babbling on now. I’ve said enough. More, I’m afraid, than you wanted to hear.”

  Shay sat, utterly still, and kept hearing those words again. And again. I’m falling in love with you.

  With him. Kira MacLeod. In love. With him.

  He couldn’t have formed a single word if he’d wanted to, the lump in his throat was so large. So, instead he tipped her face to his, and lowered his lips to hers. And he poured everything he thought he knew, and all that he didn’t have the words for, into that single, emotionally scorching kiss.

  And that kiss led to another, then another still, as his hunger for her grew the more he let himself go, let his guard completely down.

  Loved him, she did. Him. Shay Callaghan. A man who hadn’t even earned the love of his own mother.

  He tangled his fingers in her hair, and took the kiss deeper still, and she gave back with every bit as much fervor and passion. She squirmed in his lap until she straddled him, and he groped alongside the seat until he found the lever to release it completely, making her squeal in surprise, then laugh as she landed full on top of him.

  Her laughter swiftly turned to gasps, then moans as his hands roamed down her spine and over every dip and curve, at her waist, then lower, until he cupped her and urged her more tightly against him.

  No words now, only actions.

  The windows had completely steamed over, and their skin had grown slick. She was peeling his shirt open, and reaching between them to unbuckle his belt and open his trousers even as he fumbled to pull her cardigan over her head and unclasp the hooks of her bra. They were in a pretty remote spot, and in the recesses of Shay’s mind, he hoped, given the late hour of the day, no one would happen by. At least not for the next half hour or so.

  Beyond that, the world could have come to an end, and it wouldn’t have stopped him.

  “Come here,” he said, as she finished sliding her garments off and leaned back down to kiss his jaw. He nudged her mouth back to his, then bracketed her hips with his hands and shifted her so he could . . . “Oh,” he said, the single word coming out as a long, satisfied groan.

  “Aye,” she agreed, on a trembling sigh, as he slowly, surely, filled her.

  She began to move then, and he matched her rhythm easily, perfectly. It had always been like this between them. And it always would be. He knew that. Had utter faith in it, as he did in her. It shouldn’t have been such a revelatory moment . . . but such moments happened when they did.

  And this, as she fitted herself so perfectly to him, to all that he was . . . was his.

  But it wasn’t the time for words. So he took her mouth, and he took her body, and he told himself that the words would come.

  Of course they would.

  Chapter Eight

  “I’m so glad it’s turning out to be everything you’d hoped.” Kira pressed the phone closer so she could hear Tessa clearly. The connection to Malaysia was terrible.

  “Better,” Tessa said, “amazing.”

  “I can’t wait to hear all about it. Will you be home by the solstice celebrations on the twenty-first?”

  “We have to go to Edinburgh to do some of the marketing for the calendar Roan posed for.”

  “During Christmas?”

  “It’s good for the island and this is when the thing comes out, so we have to take advantage while we can.” Tessa paused for a moment, then said, “Maybe you and Shay can come stay in Edinburgh and we’ll celebrate the holidays together. Roan just mentioned that Blaine will be in the city then, too,” she said mentioning Katie’s dear friend. “Apparently he’s still digging into all that Iain McAuley mess. Anyway, you should come. Shay has a place in the city, right?”

  Kira had already told Tessa everything, or most everything, about the big change in her life. It had felt good just getting the chance to tell someone, and, at the same time, get Tessa’s perspective on . . . things. Tessa had known of Kira’s interest in Shay before her own big day, and hated that she was absent for her friend now, especially since Kira had been there for her during her tumultuous love affair with Roan.

  “He does, and he’s already told me he’d like me to see his offices there. Introduce me around.”

  “That’s good then, right? He is involving you in his life, introducing you to people he works with. All good signs.”

  “Aye, he is, and they are.”

  Tessa knew Kira well enough to hear what her friend wasn’t saying. “But you don’t want to come?”

  “No, no, it’s not that, not at all. In fact, I think it sounds like a lovely holiday. It’s just . . . he still hasn’t invited me to his place here yet. And I don’t know that I want to extend the boundaries of our relationship any more broadly, if you know what I mean, until he’s feeling sure enough of us to include me fully in his life here. Introducing me in Edinburgh is good, but also . . . distant. His other life, as it were. I do want to be a part of that, but it’s his life here—our life here—that’s most important.”

  “Maybe this is just the path he needs to take to get there. It’s been a week, you said, since you talked about all this?”

  “Aye. As I told you, we didn’t go to his place that day because . . . well, it was such a turning point, a good one, and . . . I wanted the invi
tation to come from him.”

  “And . . . it hasn’t? Has he even mentioned it?”

  “He ended up back in Edinburgh and has been swamped most of the week with a big case they’re trying to wrap up through mediation so they can avoid a court trial over the holidays. So, no, but to be fair, I don’t necessarily take it as an indication of anything other than bad timing.”

  “Okay,” Tessa said, then paused. “Are you sure?”

  “Aye, I’m sure,” Kira said, and as she said the words, she knew they were true. Essentially, anyway. Life had sort of gotten in the way just when it seemed they had made a critical leap forward, but that was what life did. “Neither of us are big on the Christmas holiday. Apparently his father was generally too busy working to do much and Shay spent most of his Christmases with Graham’s family, or with whatever family Roan was with. You and I know what it was like at school, and, well . . .”

  “I know. I know it’s hard for you. I remember you saying Thomas used to make a big deal out of Christmas.”

  “He was like a child in his excitement over it, aye,” Kira said, referring to her ex. “I’ve . . . just kind of avoided all that since.”

  “Understandable. But maybe . . . I don’t know, maybe it’s because I’m a disgustingly-in-love new bride, but maybe this could be a new beginning for you and Shay, a time to forge new traditions, to put your own stamp on the holiday. You know? Or maybe Edinburgh would be perfect, and you could both escape the whole event. I know you said the island celebrations were a bit over the top.”

  “They are.” Kira smiled, though, thinking about all the plans being made and how festive everything was. She’d completely hidden out through the past two, but this year, walking through the village . . . rather than thinking about her marriage and all the bittersweet and downright painful memories associated with it and this time of year, she’d instead found her thoughts going back much further in time. Remembering, instead, her holidays as a child in Kinloch, waiting for St. Nick. She’d loved the season when she was little, every last thing about it. And, yes, she’d thought about Shay, and what it would be like to have a brand-new holiday memory with him, to help dim some of the more painful recent ones.