Chapter 2 #3
I stare at the screen. I’m past the planning stage, and this is when I always get a little nervous and excited.
It's time for me to take out the fabric, my scissors, and my trusty old needle and thread.
I use a sewing machine, of course, but I love to begin projects by hand.
I feel like it gives me a good connection with the piece that I'm working on. Fruity, maybe, but I don't much care.
I lose myself to the work. I feel the silky fabric beneath my fingers, and it ceases to be only a textile. Now it holds a world of possibility.
Warmed up, inspired, I pick up the custom piece I’m finishing by hand.
I imagine the lovely bride taking her vows.
I imagine her looking at her bridesmaids with pride and wonder, as they walk down the aisle with fresh flowers in hand.
I imagine a gentle breeze, and the groom waiting at the altar.
This event’s a beautiful day in summer, one of the most gorgeous times of year in Inverness.
I'm so lost in my work I’ve forgotten all about Mac coming. I jump when the door opens. I had gotten so wrapped up in my work it takes me a moment to get my bearings. He's got a tray of coffee, and a white bag that looks pretty jammed.
“Looks like I startled you,” he says with a grin. “Y’alright?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” I say, getting to my feet. “I was just starting a new piece and trying to finish another I’m a bit nervous about. I sometimes get my head up in the clouds. Something my mum’s always scolding me about.”
He nods and hands me a steaming cup of coffee.
“Oh, this smells good,” I say, gesturing for him to take the only other seat in the entire little shop. I love a cup of tea, but this coffee’s one of the best. He sits in the tiny folding chair opposite me, and it seems as if the entire shop is half-filled with his large frame.
“Here, this ought to keep you going,” he says, handing me the white paper bag. I open it, relishing the sweet scent of vanilla and chocolate. Rich Man’s Shortbread is my favorite treat, thick slabs of golden shortbread dipped in dark chocolate. My mouth waters.
“Did you buy the whole tray?” I tease. The bag’s jammed.
He grins. “Mum loves the stuff. I always bring her some when I come into town. She makes shortbread but won’t let herself indulge in the chocolate-dipped variety unless there’s a wee bit of an arm twist. In other words, ready-made and gifted in a paper bag.” He winks.
Okay, so that’s adorable. Treats for his mum.
I take a bite and follow it with my coffee. I haven’t had one in ages, and it tastes so damn good I moan a little, capturing a stray crumb with the tip of my tongue. “Delicious,” I whisper.
His eyes follow my tongue, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
“What’s that?” he says, his voice a little lower and husky.
Oh my God. Am I affecting him? Is he turned on by me? The very idea makes me all squirmy.
I decide to test the theory.
I take a second bite, a larger one so my mouth is filled with the rich, mildly sweet treat. “Mmm,” I moan, licking the crumbs off my lips again.
“Jaysus,” he mutters, his voice ragged and gravelly.
I place my hand on the desk between us, bracing myself for the sudden rush of emotion and arousal at his husky voice.
His thumb flicks over the top of my hand, rough and sensual, and I shiver with excitement.
I watch him lick his lips and swallow again.
I want to trace the outline of his Adam’s apple with my tongue. God.
I’m so damn flattered that he’s attracted to me, I’ve damn near lost all sense of propriety. I look out the door of the shop to find my guard standing there with his back to us, fingers laced behind his back.
“That’s my bodyguard. He’s usually watching every fucking move,” I whisper, leaning over so Mac can hear me. “I wonder why he isn’t staring at us.”
Mac leans even closer, and damn, he smells good. Once when I was a child, I spent a holiday in the Norwegian mountains, and for some reason his scent reminds me of that. Warm, sensual, gently spicy. Masculine and virile.
“We’re fine. I know why he isn’t watching us,” Mac whispers. “I happened to let it drop that the girl at the coffee shop was hot for him and that she’d be by in a bit to say hello. He’s on the lookout.” He looks back over to me. “Can you tell me why you have a bodyguard, Bryn?”
I shrug. “My father’s a little overprotective.”
He gives me a slow smile, the kind that makes my heart beat faster. “Aye, understood. If you were mine, I’d feel the same.”
I grin, and a lock of hair falls in my eyes. He reaches over and gently tucks it behind my ear, letting his thumb brush the apple of my cheek. “Will the girl come to see him?”
He grins, his teeth perfectly white and straight. He looks like one of those bodybuilders on the cover of a men’s magazine.
“Maybe,” he whispers. “Eventually. It’ll keep him busy.”
A part of me wonders if I should fear him now, when he’s clearly manipulated my bodyguard, come into my shop, and could hurt me if he wanted to. But there’s nothing but pure lust in his eyes as we draw closer.
My heartbeat accelerates. I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so badly in my life. Just as he draws nearer, his breath on my lips, my phone rings. It’s my father’s ringtone. I close my eyes and pull away.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I have to get it. It’s my father and he gets furious if he’s left waiting.”
Goddammit.
I blink back tears as I answer, and I’m embarrassed that I let myself get so affected. I get to my feet and walk to the back of the store so Mac doesn’t need to hear me.
“Where are you?”
“Oh, hello, Dad. I’m good, thanks, and you?” I grit my teeth.
He curses under his breath. “I’m good, Bryn. I asked where you are.”
“In town, why?” He’s got a guard right outside the door, so it’s a curious question.
“I need to speak to you.”
“Something you can’t tell me over the phone?”
“No, my love, I’m very sorry.” My father is not a nice or loving man, but he can play the part. “It’s terribly urgent. Come here within an hour. Please?”
He tacks the please on at the end, unaccustomed to niceties.
The phone disconnects, and I clench my fingers around my mobile.
Mac’s staring at me.
“You alright?” he asks, genuine concern in his eyes. Those blue, blue eyes.
“Oh, I’m fine,” I say with a forced smile. “Figures my father had to interrupt just as—well, just as you…”
My voice trails off, and I’m suddenly self-conscious. He prowls closer to me. I crane my neck to look up at him, since he’s easily a full head taller than I am.
“Just as I what?” he asks teasingly, tipping his head to the side. “Just as I was about to do this?”
Within seconds, I’m pressed up against the wall, his hand at my neck.
His touch is gentle but firm, and in that moment, it’s exactly what I need.
His mouth meets mine, insistent but tender, and our breaths mingle.
His hand on my neck tightens, the firm touch making my mouth part, and as I gasp into his mouth, his other hand presses against the small of my back.
There’s a possessiveness about him that makes my knees wobble and my heart beat faster.
It’s just a kiss… just a kiss… and yet somehow this kiss tells me he’s the kind of man who will dominate me in the most delicious ways. He’s holding himself back. He’s a man who knows what he wants and gets it.
The kiss is brief, nowhere near as long as I wish it were. He pulls away and kisses my cheek, whispering in my ear, “I could kiss you all day and not tire of it. But if your bodyguard sees us…” his voice trails off. He doesn’t know who I am, but maybe he knows enough.
I nod. “Wow.”
He smiles at me and chucks me under the chin. “Wow’s right. Meet me for a drink this evening, Bryn, will you?”
I nod before I can even process what I’m doing. Of course I need to see him again. I have my methods of getting away from my bodyguards, and the good news is, since they’re new, I can use all my tried-and-true methods without them being onto me. Yet.
He hands me his phone, and I punch in my number.
“Aye,” I whisper. “I’d like that.” I glance at the clock. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”
I’m so angry that my father’s insisting on seeing me. I’ve got so much work to do, it’s near crippling. I’ll have to arrange time to come back here tomorrow, no matter what. I shouldn’t say yes, but dammit… I can’t say no.
“Can I pick you up at home, or should we meet somewhere?”
“Let’s meet somewhere,” I say, trying to stifle my disappointment.
I'd like to be picked up at home, but my father would never allow it.
And I don't want to put Mac in danger's way, either.
If my dad knew he was interested in me, he'd be in so much trouble I can't even think about it.
No, much better to keep our relationship or…
whatever this is… quiet. Much better to play it safe.
He waves goodbye to me, and my heart does another little jig. I should probably not let myself get seduced by a man I don't even know. I know this logically. Of course. But a lass can live a little… right?
Warning bells clang in my mind.
You’re moving too fast.
It isn’t safe.
Don’t trust him.
Be careful.
I shake my head and give my mental censor the middle finger.
One drink never hurt anyone.
Right?