Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
Lance
Millie is here all the bloody time; she’s moved in without anyone telling me. Not that I’m complaining. The house smells better. Dog doesn’t laze around in his underwear as much. His clothes get washed. His dirty socks reach the washing basket. She’s a positive influence.
And Dog… Hell.
He follows her around like a love-struck puppy. Eight weeks together, and I’ve never seen him so settled. Normally, he bounces from one shag to another, never stopping long enough to remember his conquest’s name. Has my old friend finally been tamed? It’s hard to believe.
“Do you want a cuppa, Lance?” Millie calls from the kitchen.
“Yes, please, Mills. That’d be lovely.”
She appears with my mug and places it on a coaster next to me.
“Biscuit?” She smiles, passing me a plate laden with them. She hesitates, eyes softening in a way that sets alarm bells off.
“Everything okay, Mills?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I’m not sure,” she whispers. “It’s Dog. He’s different.”
“Different how?”
“Distant.” Her shoulders droop. “He’s pulling away. The other night, we were in bed, talking about Christmas and our plans. I said I’d like to spend it together.”
“Okay, and what did he say?”
“Nothing. He grunted. Since then, he’s been cold, like a wall is being built between us.” Her eyes shine with unshed tears. “I thought it was just a bad day, but that was three days ago.”
Dog has never had a girlfriend as long as I’ve known him. This is new territory for me, too. My advice is limited to guesswork. But I’ve never known him to be deliberately cruel. A pain in the ass, sure. But cruel, never.
“I’m not sure what to say, Mills. He’s crazy about you. In all the years we’ve been friends, he’s never been so infatuated with a woman.” A smile sneaks onto her lips. “Give him a few days, then ask him what’s bothering him. Maybe caught off guard. Serious relationships are new for him.”
She nods and disappears into the kitchen. An hour later, the house fills with the smell of baking, and I know we are in for a treat. Millie is an amazing creator of cupcakes. Her little business is growing fast. She supplies cakes for events and parties around the area.
Could Dog get any luckier? A beautiful woman who spends her days baking cakes—she’s bloody perfect, if you ask me.
I pull out my phone.
It’s been three days since I saw Katie. Three days since I woke up with her hair on my pillow and her soft snore in my head. And fuck, I miss her.
But she’s nervous; our age gap worries her.
It’s the little comments she makes when we’re lying together in bed or in front of the fire after a bottle of wine.
What will people think of us together? She’s brought it up multiple times.
Never mind her crazy ex she expects to jump out of the shadows. I need to tread gently.
I send a message.
Hey Gorgeous. Are you free tonight? xoxo
Her reply pings back fast.
Sure am. What do you have in mind? Please note: fire and cozy slippers are stiff competition. xoxo
I chuckle. A grin splitting my cheeks.
A drink in the local pub? xoxo
Another fast reply.
The local pub? Where your ex-wife works? Are you serious? xoxo
The hairs stand on the back of my neck, a sting hitting my ribs. Wife.
Ainsley hasn’t been my wife in a long time. Not really. She’s been messing around for years.
She won’t be working tonight. She has Hannah. x
I’ll be damned if her and Hamish push me out of my own pub.
Ok, if you’re sure. xoxo
People in Aviemore talk. Me being there with another woman is bound to get back to Ainsley. But I’m set on the plan. And I can’t wait to see Katie again.
Great. Pick you up at 7pm xoxo
The Scottish weather is in full blown tantrum when I reach Katie’s cottage. Rain pelts from all sides. My knuckles turn white on the steering wheel, holding it steady.
The little red door opens, and out she comes, wrapped up in a huge jacket and hood. She half runs in her heels down the path; one catches between the slabs—she trips spectacularly.
I’m out of the car in seconds. Rain hammers off my back, straight through my shirt, as I haul her upright.
“Bloody hell, woman! Do you ever stay on your feet?”
She laughs, breathless. “Certainly not. I especially like when you have me on my back, Major.”
Heat sears my spine, every part of me tensing, the promise enticing.
I roll my eyes, attempting to look severe, and failing miserably.
With my hand firmly on her back, I guide her to the car, then lean across to buckle her in.
“We don’t want any more accidents,” I whisper in her ear.
She smells like warm skin and rainwater. My cock reacts like a traitor. She kisses my cheek, soft and casual. I drag myself to my seat before I drag her back into the house.
The drive is quiet but charged. Needing to touch her, I take her hand, dropping it on my lap. Her fingers slide over the bulge in my jeans. She owns me already.
The Coorey Inn is always packed. We call it our local pub in Aviemore for a reason. All the local teams are based here―darts, dominoes, football, and shinty.
If you’re feeling lonely, this is where you come to get some company. I would say the bar staff are friendly, but now, I hate most of them. Over-friendly with each other is probably the best description.
Katie and I enter the pub together. She drops my hand as soon as we step across the threshold. I signal to a booth in the corner, and she nods. Her throat bobbing; she’s nervous.
“What would you like to drink?” I ask.
“White wine, please.”
“Sure, you grab that booth. I’ll get the drinks.”
As I stride up to the bar, Hamish’s eyes are on me, curious. For a minute, he just stares, uneasy with my presence, then his eyes move to Katie.
“New woman?” he says with a smirk. “Dating already?”
I glare. “None of your business. Katie’s my friend. Keep your nose out of it. And considering you had your dick in my wife’s mouth while I was serving our country, don’t imagine your opinion means a damn thing.”
His nostrils flare. “Bit old for you, isn’t she?”
My fist twitches. “Are you going to serve me? Or stand there flapping your gums?”
He lifts his chin stubbornly. “What do you want?”
“White wine and a pint of Fosters.”
He pours our drinks in silence, takes my money, and doesn’t give me any change. Bastard.
I carry the drinks to the booth. Katie watches me closely.
“Everything okay?”
“Of course,” I lie. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
She glances toward the bar. “Things looked a bit heated between you two. We can go somewhere else if it’s easier, Lance. I don’t want to cause trouble.”
“The hell we are,” I snap. She startles. “Sorry, it’s just… this is my local pub. I’m not being pushed out.”
I already know coming here was a mistake. Using Katie to rub Ainsley and Hamish up the wrong way was not my best plan.
We sit and sip our drinks. The conversation stutters. The excitement of our previous encounter gone, and her smile dims a little more.
She looks uncomfortable. My chest tightens. I put her in this position.
After a while, she leans forward and says softly, “Lance, did you bring me here to get back at your wife?”
My throat goes dry, every word catching as my eyes drop to my drink.
She’s hit the nail on the head, and I’m embarrassed to admit it. She covers my hand with hers.
“It’s okay. I’ve been there. I understand. Sometimes you want to hurt the cheating assholes so badly that you’ll do anything to make it happen.”
A pause.
“We need to be real, Lance. What we have between us doesn’t have longevity. We can have fun. A lot of fun.” Her lips curl at the edges. “I’m happy to be your rebound fuck.”
I burst out laughing. Of all the things she could say, that was not what I expected. “Rebound fuck?”
“Yes. Absolutely. You know the old saying...” I shake my head, and she grins wickedly. “The best way to get over one woman is to get under another. You can get under me anytime, soldier.”
My blood heats.
My heart aches in a way sex won’t fix.
I don’t only want under her. I want every part of her.
And I need her now.