Echoes of Scotland Street

by Samantha Young

  “Is that what they’ll put on my gravestone?”

  “That and ‘tattooist by day and time-traveling immortal highlander by night,’” I teased.

  His body shook with amusement beneath mine. “You never did dye your hair pink.”

  “Ach, it has sentimental value. It’s the only thing I have in common with my mum.” I quirked an eyebrow. “On second thought, maybe I should dye it.”

  He tensed under my hands. “No taking your family problems out on your hair.”

  I smiled. “I’ll make a deal with you . . . I won’t cut or dye my hair for the next six months.”

  “No deal.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ll not touch your hair for the next millennium.”

  I grinned again and started working his upper back. I would never actually change my hair, so it didn’t hurt to concede. “Okay, since you like it so much . . .”

  Cole relaxed again and we fell into a comfortable silence as I continued to massage him.

  A little while later I heard a snore.

  He’d fallen asleep.

  My first instinct was to curl up next to him.

  However, my brain told me not to get too attached. Cuddling up for a nap with Cole was definitely something I’d do if we were in a relationship. But we weren’t in a relationship. You couldn’t be in a relationship unless you trusted the person you were in said relationship with.

  Ugh, I was giving myself a headache.

  I slipped off the bed as stealthily as possible and gently eased the duvet over Cole. I ventured back into the kitchen for the takeout, my cheeks flooding with heat as I remembered what had happened on the table the night before. I still hadn’t asked Cole why he’d taken me into the kitchen for sex.

  Hmm.

  With a plateful of heated-up chicken-fried rice and curry sauce, I made myself at home in the sitting room. Saturday night television wasn’t brilliant, but it would do. I turned the volume low on a talent show so I wouldn’t disturb Cole.

  Half an hour later I heard the sounds of his waking. Eyes on the door, I waited for him to appear, his footsteps coming fast down the hall toward me. Cole drew to an abrupt stop at the sight of me. He was still shirtless and his cheek was sleep creased. His hair was rumpled too. I hadn’t realized until that moment that it was possible for a man to be adorable and sexy at the same time.

  His tense shoulders dropped when he took me in, curled up on the end of his sofa. “I worried you’d left.”

  I shook my head and he gave me a nod before heading back to the bedroom. A few minutes later he passed the sitting room with a shirt on and headed to the kitchen. When he returned and sat on the other end of the sofa with his plate of food, he said, “Sorry I fell asleep on you.”

  “Don’t be.”

  “My back feels better. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” Why was this suddenly awkward? I frowned at him. He wouldn’t look at me and his tone was . . . weird.

  He frowned at the television. “Next time wake me.”

  I frowned in return. “Not if you’re exhausted.”

  He ate instead of answering, that little furrow on his brow deepening.

  Was he . . . “Are you annoyed I didn’t wake you or annoyed I didn’t stay in bed with you?”

  He shot me a dirty look and I had to bite my lip from smiling at his endearing disgruntlement. “No.”

  I burst out laughing because he was definitely put out. That was sweet.

  Now he was glowering. “What?”

  I shook my head, still chuckling. “You’re the only guy I’ve ever met who’s gotten pissed at me for not staying to cuddle.” I tried to swallow more giggles, but it was impossible.

  To my surprise and delight Cole’s glower melted into a slow, wicked grin. “If you’re trying to make me feel emasculated, you’re wasting your time.”

  “Oh?”

  He put his plate on the coffee table. “I’m perfectly secure in my own masculinity.” His hand wrapped around my ankle and he pulled, sliding my body down the sofa toward him.

  “You are?” I whispered as he moved over me, gently easing my legs apart.

  He nodded, his green eyes hot. “And I’m about to show you why.”

  “A demonstration,” I gasped as his hands slipped up my skirt. “How lovely.”

  Laughter glittered in his eyes, a laughter that quickly turned to a smolder as he got down to the business of proving there was more than a little alpha male in him.

  Afterward as I lay in his arms watching the television, I remembered to ask him about last night and sex on the kitchen table. His answer: “Missionary was out . . . It was the next best thing. And the kitchen table is sturdy.” He kissed me. “We broke it in.”

  “The table was a virgin?” I said, eyes round with mock horror.

  “Yes, but I’m sure it was painless for it.”

  “Still, I wish I’d known. I would have been more of a gentleman.”

  Cole burst out laughing—a deep, full belly laugh that I hadn’t heard from him until then. Knowing I’d made him laugh . . . well . . . it affected me. I spent the rest of the night fighting to ignore the warmth growing in my chest. I didn’t succeed.

  Later, as he spooned me in bed, I was thinking of ways to protect myself from becoming addicted to him. The best option, of course, was to go cold turkey and end it before it really started, but I knew I couldn’t do it . . .

  I cursed my willpower or lack thereof.

  “You’re tense,” he said.

  So I tried to relax.

  I did not succeed.

  Cole tightened his arm around me. “Everything’s going to be okay, Shannon.”

  For some reason those simple words choked me up. Tears burned in my eyes and in my throat, and try as I might, I couldn’t stop them from falling down my cheeks. I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat, but I ended up making this dreadful almost, but not quite, sob.

  It was Cole’s turn to tense and I suddenly found myself on my back as he leaned over me. Light from outside seeped through the blinds on his window to illuminate the concern in his eyes. “Shortcake,” he whispered, his fingers brushing my wet cheeks.

  “I don’t know why I’m crying,” I whispered back, brushing at them. “So stupid.”

  “It’s not.” He shook his head and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “It’s not.” He rested his forehead against mine, hot air puffing over my mouth as he sighed. “If I was less of a selfish bastard I’d let you go.”

  I reached for him, my fingers digging into his waist. I didn’t even realize I’d done it until Cole drew back to give me a small smile.

  “I am a selfish bastard, though.”

  My body relaxed under his, and his smile widened. To my everlasting appreciation he didn’t comment on the fact that my body clearly was at war with my brain.

  “I can cheer you up.”

  “I’m not sad . . . It’s just . . .” I shook my head and shrugged because I honestly didn’t know what I was feeling.

  “Well, I can get rid of those tears . . . Joss invited you to her book launch on Thursday night.”

  I drew in a breath, feeling a mixture of surprise, gratitude, and excitement. “Really?”

  Cole’s whole face warmed with affection. “What do you say? Fancy being my date to it?”

  “Do you even need to ask?”

  He laughed and lay back down, easing me against him. “Apparently not.”

  Smiling now, I wrapped my arms around him, snuggled my face into the crook of his neck, and tried to envision a real, honest-to-goodness book launch. Would it be swish and sophisticated? Wine and cocktails and fun literary chats?

  Ooh, I’d have to dress up for something like that.

  Ooh, and I’d also get my books signed by Joss.

  Giddy now, I let the happy thoughts pull me into a deep, contented sleep.

  CHAPTER 15

  T he atmosphere at the bookstore on George Street was welcoming and relaxed.
Although there were glasses of wine and champagne, there were also glasses of orange juice and water. The dress code was casual-smart, which kind of shot a hole in my plans to buy something a little fancier to wear, but it didn’t detract from the excitement of being at a book launch for one of my favorite authors.

  Everyone was there except for the kids, Nate, Mick, his wife, and Hannah’s brother, Declan. Among the familiar faces were twenty or so strangers—all J. B. Carmichael fans. Joss’s readership was growing since her last book hit the e-book top one hundred. Cole had told me that there were only a handful of people at her last book launch, and it read on her face that she was a little taken aback by the fact that her popularity had quadrupled since last time.

  Her husband stood at her side while readers came up to chat to her, and anytime he tried to give her space, she’d grip his arm and not so subtly jerk him back to her.

  I snorted and Cole followed my gaze. “She never crossed me as the shy type.”

  “She’s not. But she also hates being center of attention, so this sort of thing is her least favorite part of being an author.”

  I grimaced. “I have to admit I’d probably feel the same way. I’m not a shy person, but that would make me shy.”

  “Me too.”

  “Really?” I said, eyeing him in surprise. “You? Shy?”

  Cole grinned. “There is so much you don’t know about me.”

  Before I could question him further, my curiosity was put on hold when Joss’s publicist cleared her throat and introduced Joss. Braden squeezed her hand and gently nudged her toward the center of the room where everyone was now gathering in a semicircle around her.

  “Hey, folks.” She smiled at everyone, the natural coolness in her tip-tilted eyes warming anytime she made eye contact with one of her friends and family. “I want to thank you all for being here for the launch of my fifth book.” She appeared to relax somewhat as she continued on less formally. “You know, I’m extremely blessed to be surrounded by family and friends who all inspire me. Believe me when I tell you there is never a dull year in the Carmichael-Clark-Sutherland-MacCabe-Sawyer-Walker tribe.”

  At that, said tribe all tittered, acknowledging the truth in her words. I knew there was truth in them because I had spent the last week asking Cole about these colorful, gorgeous people he was lucky enough to have in his life. Each one of them had a story to tell, and although he’d only given me the bare bones of them, I read between the lines and deduced their stories involved a lot of drama and plenty of heartache.

  “That’s why the plot for this book came to me so easily—it’s inspired by one of my best friends. She knows who she is and I just wanted to say thank you for being you. You’re a true heroine . . . and your tale makes one hell of a story.” She grinned teasingly at the crowd and they laughed.

  I looked around at all the women in Joss’s life, wondering who she was talking about.

  “I’m not going to say much, because my husband will tell you I’m not much for speeches, but I want to thank my publisher, my editor, Audrey, who flew all the way from London to be here, my publicist, Bill, my friends, and most important, my husband, Braden, who after a long day at work will find ways to keep the kids entertained while I hole up in my writing cave. I like you.” She smiled at him. “A whole lot.”

  Braden laughed and I knew instantly what Joss saw in him.

  Yum-ee.

  While Joss walked over to him and the crowds began mingling, Cole squeezed my waist. Gazing up at him, I found he had his eyebrows raised. “Braden’s forty-two,” he whispered.

  Damn. He’d caught me ogling.

  I shrugged, going for nonchalant. “A hot forty-two.”

  He groaned as if in pain. “He’s like a big brother, as is Cam. Don’t call them hot.”

  “I won’t.” I shook my head. “Besides, Cam is more sexy than hot.”

  Cole made a gagging sound.

  “And let’s not leave out Adam, and my gosh, definitely not Nate and Marco. Those two are smok—”

  His large hand clamped over my mouth and I looked up at him from under my eyelashes, my gaze mischievous.

  “Don’t say it.”

  I promised him with my eyes that I wouldn’t.

  Cautiously Cole removed his hand from over my mouth. I grinned. “I don’t see the problem with me admitting they’re all attractive. It’s not like you didn’t have a huge crush on Olivia.”

  “That reminds me. I need to speak to Rae.”

  “She’s been very forthcoming.”

  “Stay here while I go find her and kill her.”

  “She’s here?” I said, looking around the store for her.

  “She came in while Joss was talking.” He stilled and I followed his gaze to see Rae in the corner laughing with Ellie and her mum. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Cole,” I protested, but he was already striding off.

  “Uh-oh, someone’s in trouble.”

  I turned at Hannah’s teasing voice. “Rae. Rae’s in trouble.”

  Hannah smirked. “Why does that not surprise me?”

  “She told me about Cole’s crush on Olivia.”

  Delighted, Hannah burst out laughing. “Oh man, I almost forgot about that.” Her eyes were bright with mirth. “She was his first big crush. It was so adorable.”

  “Yup.” I giggled. “Which is why Cole’s going to kill Rae.”

  “What are we laughing at?” Liv hurried over to us with Jo, her eyes filled with curiosity as she bestowed her freaking amazing smile on us.

  My own gaze took in all her voluptuous gorgeousness. She wasn’t beautiful like Jo, or glamorous like Joss, or stunning like Hannah. She was striking and sexy with unusual golden hazel eyes and killer curves. No wonder Cole had had a crush on her. She was a teenage boy’s wet dream.

  “Rae told Shannon about Cole’s old crush on you. He’s now killing her with words.”

  We all stared across the room where Cole was laughing with Rae.

  I snorted. “Well . . . he was . . .”

  “I hope it doesn’t bother you . . .” Liv seemed unsure. “It was years ago. He was just a teenager.”

  “Of course not.” I waved her concerns away.

  “I’m just glad to see you getting along with Hannah.” Jo took a sip of her champagne while Hannah tensed beside me.

  I reassured her with a grin. “Oh, you mean because all his ex-girlfriends were crazy people?”

  Cole’s sister looked surprised. “Cole told you?”

  “Yup. Don’t worry. I’m not blind.” I looked at Hannah now. “I can see you two are like brother and sister.”

  Relief glittered in her pretty brown eyes and it occurred to me this was obviously something she had to worry about every time Cole started seeing someone new.

  “Anyway,” I continued, “it’s not like Cole and I are anything serious.”

  Just like that the mood in our circle changed. And not for the better.

  Jo looked visibly confused and upset. “But . . . Cole doesn’t do casual.”

  I opened my mouth to explain but found I really didn’t know how.

  “Issues.”

  I spun around to find Joss standing behind us, apparently listening in.

  She waved her wineglass at me. “I can spot someone with issues a mile off.”

  “Issues?” Jo and Liv stepped closer, crowding me in. I was starting to feel a little trapped. “What issues?”

  “Yes, what issues?” I snapped, forgetting this woman was my current idol.

  Joss shrugged. “If it were my guess, I’d say the whole ‘not serious thing’ was your suggestion and it was your suggestion because of a bad breakup.”

  Hannah, Jo, and Liv looked from Joss to me, expressions all the same. I was battered by three silent questions, each one the same. Well, is she right?

  Yes, I definitely felt trapped.

  “Jesus, women.” Cole suddenly appeared, pushing past his sister and Hannah to get to me. “The four of you loo
k like a pack of hyenas crowding baby Simba.”

  I wrapped my arm around his waist, thankful for the intrusion despite being likened to a lion cub. As much as I liked Cole’s friends and family, I wasn’t really up for sharing my past with them.

  “We’re sorry.” Hannah looked like she really meant it.

  Jo, however, wasn’t ready to let it go that easily . . . “What does she mean you’re not serious?”

  “Jo.” Cole sighed. “Don—”

  “Since when do you do casual?” She crossed her arms over her slim chest, annoyance in her eyes. Eyes that were the exact shape and shade as Cole’s.

  I relaxed against her brother, remembering how Rae had told me Jo raised him. She was just being protective.

  “Jo—”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Jo, sheathe the mother-bear claws.”

  He said it in such an authoritative tone I wasn’t surprised when she snapped her mouth shut.

  Cole’s fingers tightened their hold on my waist. “Shannon is my business, not yours.”

  “And you’re my business,” she argued, glowering at me.

  “Awkward.”

  Everyone stopped talking and looked at me.

  I blanched. “Did I say that out loud?”

  Cole nodded, shaking with amusement.

  Joss, Hannah, and Liv burst into laughter and even Jo’s scowl cleared as her lips twitched. I was embarrassed, but I could take the embarrassment if it meant Jo would stop prying into my situation with Cole.

  * * *

  To my relief, over the next few weeks, Cole never brought up “our situation.” I refused to call it a relationship even though very quickly I got lost in a blissful bubble with him. His attentiveness, his consideration, his cockiness and sweetness . . . it never wavered. It appeared that that was just who he was, and I had to admit it was nice.

  Okay, so it was more than nice.

  Cole didn’t hide his affection for me, although he still maintained a distant professionalism in front of customers, and he didn’t hide that he thought we were definitely going somewhere serious and that I’d eventually come to trust him. His optimism was kind of charming.

  As was his good humor and his patience and . . . and, and, and!

  I really wished I could find some kind of fault with him. But as we spent those weeks on dates at the movies, out to dinner, drinks with friends, quiet drinks alone, hanging out at his flat, and having the hottest sex of my life, I couldn’t find anything more annoying about him other than the fact that he constantly flicked the channel on the television. And sure, that was really annoying, but it was just that one thing.