Chapter 25
Alicia
It was hard to tell if Jamie’s receptionist, Lorna, knew what they had been up to in his office, because she had the same goggle-eyed expression on her face when the two of them returned to reception as she had when Alicia first entered the building.
Alicia knew Lorna recognised her and it had been risky having sex in Jamie’s office, but she wasn’t in the driving seat when she was around this man.
She hadn’t been exaggerating when she said that his mere presence drove her crazy.
Him in his running gear, glowing with sweat, brought out her inner cavewoman.
Jamie made Alicia feel something else, something also primitive in its origins – he made her feel safe.
In the past, she had thought all her boyfriends did this, mistaking for safety a muscular physique or the desire to hold her close.
She had been wrong. The safety Jamie gave her was a magical combination of his physical build and his character.
It cosseted her now as they stood in front of Lorna at reception.
Jamie didn't touch Alicia or pull her close, and she knew why.
That would give Lorna ammunition. For this, she adored him, for recognising, without being told, how important it was to her.
‘Thank you,’ she said once they were in her hire car. He would leave his car at the office and collect it the next day.
‘What for? I should be thanking you for coming back here.’
‘Just for understanding what I’m going through. It helps me to be me and enjoy things like random sex in your office. Because it was such good sex, it would be rude to not enjoy it.’
‘It takes two, you know.’
‘It does, and we clearly have some badass chemistry, but take some credit. Two weeks ago, I couldn’t show my face at the hotel reception. When I’m with you I forget that stuff and I’m in the moment enjoying my Jamie.’
Jamie’s gaze sharpened. ‘Your Jamie, eh?’
Alicia squeezed his hand. ‘Aye. Take me hame, Jamie Butler. I can’t wait to see yer hoose.’
His laughter filled the small car. ‘With an accent like that I’ll need to take you hame and sort you out. Take a left out of here and go back towards the village.’
Minutes later, Alicia was marvelling at the scenery as they drove through Kinshore. ‘Your village is adorable,’ she said. ‘All the little cottages and the quirky shops. I love it.’
‘Aye, it’s alright,’ Jamie looked out the window and she wondered if he ever tired of the loveliness of the place he’d live all his life. ‘The high street is no Rodeo Drive, but I can get a helicopter to Inverness if I want that.’
She giggled, sensing the humour in his words.
‘How did you know I was joking?’
Alicia swung the car left as Jamie signalled with his thumb to do so. ‘I don’t know. I just knew.’
Jamie's home was an adorable four-bedroom 18th-century cottage nestled on the seafront.
While he showered, Alicia stood by the window, cradling a cup of tea in her hands, her eyes wide with wonder at the view.
The beach stretched out expansively before her, waves crashing rhythmically against the shore.
She imagined him out there, riding those breakers, feeling like she, too, belonged in this beautiful place where he surfed.
‘Would you like to go surfing tomorrow morning?’ Warmth radiated behind Alicia and there was a graze of stubble on the back of her neck. She jumped a little. ‘Oh, I was so lost in the view.’
‘Sorry.’ Jamie crossed his arms over Alicia’s sternum, drawing her into that bubble of safety again. His fresh, clean bergamot scent was one she would never smell again without returning here. To him.
‘Is it not a teensy bit cold for surfing?’ she rubbed his forearm.
‘Sure. If you’re a wuss it is.’
‘Well, call me a wuss because there is no chance you are getting me in that water at this time of year.’
The vibrations of Jamie’s laughter rippled from his chest to Alicia’s heart.
‘Okay, no surfing,’ he said, ‘but I’d love if you could paint this as one of the views. It’s a personal favourite of mine. What do you think?’
‘That’s no problem. I could quite easily do it from indoors.’
‘Amazing. Tomorrow we’ll go into the village and I’ll show you some other places. I can’t wait for you to fall in love with the place.’
Alicia inclined her cheek to Jamie’s. ‘Oh, I’m sure I will. I already know how special Kinshore is.’ Something told Alicia that if she stayed here too long, the view wouldn’t be only thing she’d fall in love with.
The evening was perfect. They ate crisp pan-fried salmon with fluffy roast potatoes and vibrant garden greens.
Outside, frost laced the streets and rooftops, creating a winter postcard scene, but inside warmth from the kitchen range cocooned them and they talked across a vista of topics from movies to their respective families.
After dinner, in the lounge, the fire crackled as Alicia regaled Jamie with tales of her brothers away from the cameras and Jamie entertained Alicia with stories about his six siblings.
She was wondering if she would ever meet them when Jamie said, ‘You’ll meet them if you stick around for a bit.
Some of them, anyway. Sean and Nate live here.
They’ll all come back for Christmas, too, if you’re about then. ’
Alicia must have frozen a little at, apparently, having her mind read because Jamie apologised. ‘Sorry, I’m coming on too strong with all my Christmas talk,’ he said. ‘We only met two weeks ago.’
‘No.’ She grabbed his hand. ‘It’s not too strong. I hope I am around then. Meeting your family would be a privilege.’
Jamie wrapped his fingers over her knuckles. ‘The honour would be all theirs.’
After-dinner fireside sex where the orgasms flowed like intoxicating whisky reinforced to Alicia that she could never now be satisfied by another man.
Not that she could imagine being with anyone but Jamie.
And then, as her heart spun like a roulette wheel, Jamie carried her naked up the stairs, and they moved to the next round in the bedroom, a light dusting of snow swirling around outside.
‘This is like an R-rated fairy tale.’ She lay tucked into him, her arm draped over his wide chest. ‘First, sex by a winter fire and then the Scottish prince carries me up the stairs and takes me again with little baby snowflakes tumbling down outside.’
‘Scottish prince! Ha. There’s not been one of those for about four hundred years, and their hygiene was questionable. But I’m happy to be your modern-day prince. Or king, even.’
‘King Jamie I of Kinshore. I’d do him.’
‘You just did.’ He grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers. ‘Mmm. Hey, I’m going to check the fire downstairs before we sleep.’
While Jamie was away, Alicia rummaged in her suitcase for her vanity kit to take her make up off.
In the corner of her case, she spotted the toxic shame book.
Self-reproach prickled at her. Two weeks she’d had the book and she’d opened it once, skimmed page one and closed it again.
It was remiss of her. Or was it? She was fine, wasn’t she?
Jamie had magicked away all the bad Chad stuff.
‘You alright? What you reading?’
She jumped. She hadn’t heard Jamie come up the stairs but there he was, leaning on the door jamb examining her with curiosity. ‘Oh, nothing.’ She slid the book underneath a sweater. But his gaze narrowed.
‘Hey,’ he said. ‘I’m all over a bedtime story with a Scottish prince in it.’
Alicia softened. She was ashamed of the book, but Jamie knew what she’d been through. Surely, she could show him. Tentatively, she pulled it from under the sweater and held it out to him.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s nothing as exciting as Scottish princes.’
Jamie pushed off the door jamb, took the book and with an unreadable expression on his face examined the cover for what felt like forever. What conversation will this lead to? One where I explain I’m way more damaged than I made out? I should have pretended it was romance and left him to wonder.
To prolong Alicia’s agony, Jamie then flipped the book over and scrutinised the blurb on the back cover, again taking so long that she wanted to weep.
‘Sorry,’ he said, when at last he finished. ‘Dyslexia. Takes me longer than most to read things.’
Of course. Alicia had forgotten about his dyslexia. She was thinking too much about her own problems.
‘Leesh, this book—’
‘I know.’ She interrupted. Couldn’t help it. Had to pre-empt him. ‘It’s full on, right? Too full on?’
‘It does seem intense,’ Jamie agreed. ‘And I didn’t realise—’
‘It’s okay, I understand.’ Alicia reached for the book and when Jamie passed it back, she pulled it to her chest. ‘You didn’t realise how messed up I am.’
‘Well, no. I didn’t…’
‘Right. Maybe I should sleep in the spare room tonight. Do you have a spare room?’
Jamie smiled. What the hell? Why was he smiling?
‘Leesh. I meant no, that’s not what I was thinking.
And I didn’t realise how much you were trying to work it all out yourself.
I’ve never for one second thought of you as messed up.
You’re a human being with complex emotions who’s been through a shift and a half at the mill.
You own this book, which in itself tells me that I found gold dust in you.
How many folk who go through trauma take the decision to heal themselves?
Plus, you’ve brought your healing book on holiday.
That’s commitment. At the risk of sounding like a horny old fucker, your approach to all this is kind of a turn on. ’
Alicia had to stop herself from stumbling backwards. Who was this man? How had she lucked out on so many levels? Here she was, laid bare in front of him and all he did was accept and admire her and even find it a turn on. Who needed a prince when you had Jamie Butler?
‘Oh, Jamie. You have no idea how much that means. I’m sorry for getting it wrong. I guess I’m… Well it’s all a bit of a work in progress.’