CHAPTER SIXTEEN ~ ABBY ~ FOURTEEN YEARS AGO #2
“Nah, you love me,” he answers without missing a beat.
I don’t have time to formulate a response before he takes my hand and leads me forward.
I gasp the second the frigid water touches my skin.
I let out a prolonged whine mixed with pained laughter as we wade in, feeling gratified by the way Graeme curses under his breath between short, sharp breaths.
“Ready to swim?” he asks when we’re waist-deep in the water.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I release his hand, and he lets out a whoop when I dive in before him.
I’m not sure which is more breathtaking: the water that’s colder than anything I’ve ever experienced, or the view of the mountains on one side and the beach on the other.
Graeme and I swim around each other, giddy laughter spilling from our lips.
We face each other as we tread water, seeming to reach an unspoken agreement not to go any deeper. I wish I could capture this moment: Graeme, with droplets of water glistening on his skin and clinging to his eyelashes. He suits the rugged landscape, making me think he belongs here too.
After a few minutes, we move slowly toward the shore.
Graeme pauses when our feet touch the rocky bottom again.
I drift toward him, and he pulls me closer, a smile tilting one side of his mouth as I wrap my arms around his neck.
He grips my upper thighs and lifts me, coaxing my legs around his waist. We’ve been this close before, but it feels different this time.
Our naked torsos press together, and there are mere strips of fabric separating the rest of us.
My attention shifts to one strip of fabric in particular when a gentle wave makes me rock against Graeme.
The way he’s holding me places me higher than him, with my centre pressed firmly against his lower abdomen.
It takes super-human levels of strength to resist the urge to grind against him and ease some of the ache that’s been a constant companion lately.
The sun glints off the water and reflects on Graeme’s face, making his eyes even bluer than usual.
I cup his jaw, loving the stubble-roughened feel of his skin under my fingers as I lower my mouth to his.
His hands shift from my thighs to grip my ass, fingers brushing over my bare skin where my underwear has ridden up.
The combination of his touch and the cold water causes a full-body shiver to roll through me.
I laugh against his lips and pull away, meeting his eyes.
“You know, if someone had told me a few weeks ago that I’d be wild swimming in my underwear in a Scottish loch while making out with a hot Scot, I wouldn’t have believed them. ”
“All the more shocking that said Scot is your best friend?” Graeme asks.
“Hot Scot,” I say. “Don’t forget that part.”
His laughter vibrates through me, straight to my core. “I can’t refer to myself that way.”
“Mm, well, I can.” I lower my mouth to his once more, kissing him hungrily. He groans, sending another shiver through me.
“That’s our cue to get out.” Instead of releasing me like I expect, he begins walking toward shore. I cling to him, partly for warmth, but mostly because I like the low growl he lets out when my breasts press against his chest.
When he sets me down beside the boulder where we left our things, I feel shivery yet energized. He hands me a towel and instructs me to wrap it around my waist, then takes another and wraps it around my shoulders, rubbing my arms vigorously through the plush material.
“Don’t get dressed yet, I have warmer clothes for us in the car,” he says, slinging a towel over his shoulders.
He gathers our clothes, and we head for the car.
He opens the back passenger door and points to a pile of clothes, telling me I can get dressed back there while he changes outside since there’s no one else around.
I dry off and then strip out of my wet underwear, sighing as I slip into the sweatshirt and joggers Graeme left for me.
I’ve just pulled the pants up all the way when he gets into the driver’s seat.
Our eyes meet in the rearview mirror. On impulse, I slingshot my panties at him. Even from here, the glint in his eyes is impossible to miss.
“Thanks, Spicy. These are mine now, you know that, right?” And with a wicked grin, he tucks them into his pocket.
* * *
When we return to MacKinlay Tower, Graeme’s friend Rab calls to ask him for help with something, and I stay behind to shower. Afterward, I putter around the apartment, imagining how it’ll look when it’s fully furnished and decorated.
Graeme told me he plans to paint while the place is mostly empty.
I scan the walls, wondering what colours he’ll choose, what kind of artwork, how many framed photos he’ll have.
I wish I could be here to help with the decisions and see it all come together.
I imagine him texting me paint samples and various decorative items he finds while he’s out and about, but it’s not the same.
I hear the distant sound of the front door unlocking.
Graeme appears in the living room doorway a moment later.
I love the way his face lights up when he sees me, even though we spent the entire day together and have only been apart for an hour.
He crosses the room and offers me a bouquet of daffodils tied with a bright red ribbon.
“Graeme. They’re beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as you, sweetheart.” He leans in for a kiss, but pauses and chuckles when he sees I can’t get my grin under control. “Och, that was cheesy, wasn’t it? So I probably shouldn’t say something about how you’ve brightened my life more than all the daffodils in Scotland?”
He is right, but not because the sentiment is cheesy.
Saying things like that makes me fall more deeply in love with him, and that’s the part that scares me.
Still, an airy, bubbly feeling courses through me, making me feel light enough to float away.
I grip Graeme’s shoulder with my free hand, anchoring myself to him and to this moment.
He takes the flowers from me and sets them aside before resting his hands on my hips.
If he notices I didn’t answer his question, he doesn’t say anything.
Instead, he kisses my cheek and then trails his lips along my jaw.
He lingers at the spot he recently discovered I like, the warm puff of air against my skin telling me he’s amused when I tighten my hold on his shoulders.
By the time his lips move to my neck, I’m sure he can feel my racing pulse.
“Why haven’t we had sex yet?” I blurt.
Graeme huffs out a surprised laugh and straightens to look at me. I attempt to back away, but he tightens his grip on my hips, holding me in place. “You’re going to ask that and then run?”
“I didn’t exactly have a plan, but that sounds about right. If you could just let me go, that’d be great.” My cheeks are flaming. I can’t meet his eyes, even though I can feel his searching gaze on my face.
“And where would you go?” he asks.
“Maybe up to the castle, where I can hide in one of the dungeons and never show my face again. Or to the vaults under South Bridge?”
“Abigail.” His voice is laced with gentle humour. I don’t have to see his face to picture his sweet, soft smile. I can also imagine the curiosity in those beautiful eyes of his.
“Wow, full name,” I murmur, peeking up at him through my lashes. I was right about his expression, although I left out one important thing: love. It’s painted across every inch of his face, and it nearly sucks the air from my lungs.
“Abigail Dawn Morton.” His tone is firmer now, and something about it makes me want to squirm in a way that has nothing to do with embarrassment.
“What, Graeme Alistair James MacKinlay?”
One side of his mouth tilts up. “We haven’t had sex yet because I haven’t wanted to rush you into something you might not be ready for.”
When I tilt my head back to look at him, I’m reminded of what he said earlier about me being a sunflower gravitating toward the sun. Except now, everything in me is pulled toward Graeme.
“We’ve been friends for so long, and then in the blink of an eye we were...
more,” he says. “We know now those feelings have always been there on some level for both of us, but it’s still so new.
Between that and an expiration date of sorts, I thought maybe we wouldn’t or shouldn’t take things further.
That it would be smarter to have one final line we didn’t cross. ”
“I think we passed ‘smart’ a while ago,” I say.
He hums in agreement. “Left it on the other side of the Atlantic, it seems.” He brushes away a lock of hair that fell from my clip when I attempted to hide my face. “So if we’re just a pair of idiots who love each other and want each other, where does that leave us?”
My heart leaps when he says ‘love’. It’s not the first time he’s said it—not even the first time today—and it’s not an outright ‘I love you’, but we seem to be getting closer to that.
“Do you remember when we were talking about me staying in Scotland and you asked me to let you l-love me until it was time to say goodbye?” My cheeks heat, both at the way I stumble over the word and at what I plan to say next. I’ve never been good at talking about sex, even with Drew.
“I remember.” He ducks his head to maintain eye contact with me. When I open my mouth and no words come, he saves me from myself. “And sex is part of that?”
“I think so? I want it to be. I was just worried maybe you didn’t want me in that way.”
He releases a heavy breath. “Of course I want you in that way, sweetheart. I want all of you. And if I haven’t made that clear, that’s a failure on my part.”