by Megan McCoy
The End.
Joy Bussu
Blessings! I am 48-year-old Joy Bussu. Eighteen years married, mother of four, grandmother of one. I was born in Wichita Falls, Texas, but raised in Denver, Colorado, where I currently reside with my beautiful family.
I have always had a love for the written word. I devoured books from the time I could string sentences together and I have always loved to write. Once I gave birth to my youngest child and only daughter, I was finally ready to attempt to write my first book. It took me over ten years to complete it.
Holding the first copy of my self-published book was the opening of the flood gate I never even realized I was holding back. Writing is my passion and my life and it is my pleasure and deepest honor to be able to share it with the world. My dream is to touch as many as humanly possible with my work.
Don’t miss these exciting titles by Joy Bussu and Blushing Books!
Whispers
Scotch and Snow
12 Naughty Days of Christmas 2020 - Book 6
Penny Wells
Published by Blushing Books
An Imprint of
ABCD Graphics and Design, Inc.
A Virginia Corporation
977 Seminole Trail #233
Charlottesville, VA 22901
©2020
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The trademark Blushing Books is pending in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
Penny Wells
Scotch and Snow
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-64563-848-3
v1
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.
Chapter 1
“What is the purpose of your visit to the United Kingdom?”
Heather blinked hard. Her thoughts seemed fuzzy, as if they were traveling a great distance between concept, idea and word. “I’m here for Christmas. And New Year’s,” she mumbled to the border agent. “I’m going to the Hogmanay Festival with friends. We’ve got wristbands,” she added stupidly.
The agent looked around mockingly. “I don’t see your friends.”
Feeling a stab of annoyance, Heather rubbed her eyes with one hand. Were fluorescent lights always this bright? It was morning in Edinburgh, Scotland but her body was still on Eastern Time in the United States, where it was the middle of the night. Her hand fell to her side. “They’re taking different flights,” she said simply.
“Where will you be staying?” the agent asked, glancing down at the paper tourist visa application she had filled out on the airplane just before landing.
Frowning at the guard, she wondered why he was hassling her so much. “I booked an Airbnb,” she said, gesturing at the paper on which she had listed the address.
The border agent nodded. “How long will you be staying? Do you have a ticket home?”
“Uh, yes,” she said, fumbling with her purse for her phone. “I’ve got the ticket on my phone. I can pull it up.”
He waited as she dug out her phone, launched her email app and located her flight itinerary. She laid the phone on the counter and he squinted down at it, reaching out a finger to scroll, presumably checking the dates. He nodded once, stamped her passport and handed it back, unsmiling, with her flight ticket tucked inside. “Welcome to the United Kingdom. Next!”
The airport in Edinburgh was small. It wasn’t hard to follow the signs to the buses and taxis. Heather pulled up the directions she had downloaded to her phone. Tired as she was, she still had no trouble finding the correct bus. She purchased her ticket and flopped into a seat, parking her luggage in the leg space and seat of the chair beside her. Heather was glad she could not see her reflection in the window. Her dark brown hair felt messy to the touch and she was sure the rest of her, green-eyed, freckled, with a medium skin tone, appeared wilted.
Trying to stay awake, she looked out at the window at her first glimpses of Scotland. Could I really live here? she wondered, watching the trees and buildings flick past. The city she observed from her bus seat wasn’t what she was expecting. It was newer, modernized. Having never been anywhere in Europe before, Heather was expecting cobblestone streets and ancient architecture. She felt silly for not anticipating all of the modern fixtures she was used to: street lamps, billboards, highway overpasses. The roads were smooth asphalt, not cobblestone, and the cars, although unfamiliar makes and models, were mostly the same, except smaller. It seemed as though all of the pictures of Edinburgh she had seen were of Old Town, leaving her unprepared for modern Scottish suburbia.
Checking her phone compulsively to make sure she remembered her directions, Heather stood when the sign flicked to her stop and disembarked clumsily. Wheeling her suitcase along behind her down the sidewalk, she peered up at the houses, looking for the right one. Her Airbnb host, Liam, wouldn’t be there to welcome her. His neighbor would be letting her in instead.
The Airbnb she had booked was not in the city center. Having waited somewhat last minute to book this leg of her trip, she hadn’t had a lot of choices for the Christmas holidays. She’d booked the original trip with her friends well in advance. They planned to arrive a couple of days before New Year’s, spend a week in the city, and then move on to Greece. Heather had extended her trip on the front end after learning that she might be moving to the historic city for work. She wanted a little more time to explore and thought the chance to see it alone would help her decide if the move was a bad idea.
Liam’s residence was a single story gray house, small but charming with lush green grass and well-tended shrubbery and flowerbeds. She wondered if her host had a wife, girlfriend, or roommate, or if he kept up the gardening on his own. When Heather knocked on the door, an elderly woman answered.
“Hello!” said the woman warmly, taking in Heather’s luggage with her gaze. “You must be Heather.”
“Yes,” said Heather, breathing a little heavier than usual after walking so far with her bags. “I’m here for the Airbnb booking. Are you Liam’s neighbor?” She tucked a stray lock of dark brown hair behind her ear.
“Yes, I am. My name is Agatha.” She stepped back, pulling the door open wide and motioning for Heather to come inside. “Liam had to work today. He always asks me whenever he needs help with his bookings,” said Agatha proudly. “If you come this way, I’ll show you to your room.”
“Thanks,” said Heather, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and taking her luggage handle once more. She stifled a yawn. “It’s really nice of you to help him out.”
“Did you just come over from America this morning?” asked Agatha, kindly, leading the way through the hall and past a bathroom.
“Yeah, I just landed about…” her voice trailed off as she checked her watch, “About an hour and a half ago.”
“You must be exhausted,” Agatha sympathized. “I’ve never been to America myself, but I have been to Asia and the jetlag was just awful.” She stopped beside an open doorway that looked in on a bedroom. “Here’s your room.”
“Thank you,” said Heather. She walked straight to the bed, parked her suitcase by the bedside table and relieved her shoulders of bags, heaving them off and onto the comforter. Stepping back, Heather looked around. The room was fairly large with an ensuite bathroom.
Agatha had followed Heather into the room. She indicated a door to the right of the one they had just walked through. “You have your own private bathroom with a shower,” Agatha told her. She moved further into the room and began pointing out amenities. “He’s got you well kitted out in here with a microwave, mini-fridge, coffee maker, kettle, and some foods.” She waved a hand toward a neat shelf. It was well sto
cked. Even with just a cursory glance, Heather saw tea, coffee pods, snacks, and disposable flatware, plates, bowls, and cups.
After pointing out the table, desk, wardrobe, and spare umbrella, Agatha handed Heather a set of keys. “As you can see, there’s a doorway behind you,” she said, nodding toward the door on the opposite side of the room. “You’ve got your own entrance to the house. This door,” she indicated the doorway they had entered through with a jerk of her thumb over her shoulder, “stays locked.”
“Okay,” said Heather, stifling another yawn.
“Liam should be home around five o’clock. Is there anything I can get you in the meantime?”
Heather looked around, trying to force her brain into thinking. “Linens?”
“There are towels and washcloths in the bathroom. If you need more bed clothes, I’m sure Liam will be able to help you with that when he gets home.” She smiled at Heather. “You should go out and see some of the city. It will help you stay awake and you’ll adjust easier to the time change.”
Heather smiled noncommittally.
“Well, I’ll let you get to it. I’m just next-door if you need me, in the brick house. Number 607. I’m going to close and lock this door on my way out.” She crossed the room and made to close the door. “Bye,” she said softly.
“Goodbye! Thank you!” Heather called. The door closed with the click of the lock and she was alone. The house was very quiet. Gray Scottish daylight was filtering in through the sheer curtains of the windows and door. Heather blinked in the stillness, her exhaustion making her body feel weak. She needed to start moving or she would fall asleep.
Slowly, Heather dug out her toiletries bag and a fresh change of clothes. She brushed her teeth, took a shower, got dressed, and made herself some coffee. Feeling that she looked pale behind her freckles, she decided to throw on some makeup while her coffee cooled. She sipped from the paper cup while sitting at the table and looking at the map on her phone. Agatha was right. Heather needed to stay awake. Taking a walk to get some food seemed like just the thing she needed.
Leaving out her cup in case she opted for more coffee in a few hours, Heather swung her purse over her shoulder and headed out, locking the door behind her. Liam’s back garden was small and fenced in. It had a large patio that took up much of the green space, with outdoor sofas and a table and chairs. Clearly, he enjoyed entertaining outdoors. Heather glanced up at the sky, which was threatening rain, and wondered how often he held dinner parties on his patio.
By the time she made it to a cafe, it was nearly lunchtime. Heather ordered a hot sandwich and chips (“crisps,” as they were labeled on the menu). She lingered a while over her meal and then left to walk around some more. Meandering the streets, Heather didn’t take in much of the little shops or the park she walked around. At three-thirty, she caved in and decided to go back to her room and take a nap. Finding her way back with little trouble, she was asleep by four-fifteen.
She woke up bleary-eyed and feeling lost. There was a knock at the door that led further into the house. She tried to say, “Yes?” but her voice was raspy and the word died on her lips. Leaning over to drink some water, she heard a key in the door handle. Before she had gotten the water down, the door swung open. It was not Agatha. Heather’s stomach dropped as she felt a thrill of mingled embarrassment and delight.
A tall, attractive man with copper-brown hair and a short beard took a half step into the room and froze. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were in here,” he said apologetically. A dull flush crept up past his beard, highlighting his cheekbones. “I’m sorry,” he drawled, his Scottish accent evident. “I only meant to check on the soap,” he held up a brand new bottle of hand soap, “but I can do that later.” He ducked his head a bit and backed away.
Heather cleared her throat and tried again to speak. “It’s all right,” she said, her voice croaky. “You can come in.” She pushed herself all the way up into a sitting position.
“You are out of soap, then?” he asked, striding into the room. “I thought of it just as I got to work this morning.” He wore dark colors: a gray slouchy hat, an olive-green long-sleeved shirt, black pants, and brown boots. Pausing as he crossed the room, he pushed his sleeves up, revealing toned forearms with prominent veins. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he added, taking in her placement in the room.
“No, I’m glad you did,” said Heather, her voice stronger now, “I didn’t want to sleep too long. I thought I set an alarm.” She reached for her phone to check if she had set a timer. “Ah. I didn’t hit start,” she said with a yawn. “So, it’s a good thing you came in.”
His shoulders dropped a little and he appeared to relax. “Good. I’m glad I haven’t disturbed you. I’m Liam, your Airbnb host.” He stepped toward her, his hand extended to shake, and then, glancing at the bed, stopped abruptly. “Ah, you probably don’t want…” he mumbled, his voice trailing off and his hand dropping to his side.
Heather couldn’t suppress a grin. “It’s okay,” she said, throwing back the blankets and sliding out of bed. She stood and walked toward him, ready to shake his hand. “I’m Heather. It’s nice to meet you.” As they shook hands, she noticed how warm and big his hand was. He was a good five or six inches taller than she was, and from this close she could see that his eyes were a warm reddish-brown.
Heather realized she was still holding his hand and quickly let go. A sudden shyness came over her. He was very good-looking. “Well, uh, thanks for the soap,” she said, swinging her hand beside her.
“You’re welcome. Can I get you anything else while I’m here?” he asked.
Heather checked her watch again. “Maybe a dinner recommendation? I suppose it’s about time to eat.”
“Are you in town by yourself? I only ask because I was about to order a pizza and you’re welcome to join me.”
Heather raised her eyebrows in surprise, but felt rather pleased. “Yes, I am here by myself. For now, anyway. My friends will be meeting me in a few days to go to Hogmanay.” She hesitated, once again taking in his good looks. “Are you sure your girlfriend won’t mind me joining you guys? Because I would love some company.” She willed herself not to blush.
His mouth twitched in a smirk. “No girlfriend,” he said lightly. “I live here alone. Well, alone with my Airbnb guests.” He grinned and Heather felt a fluttering behind her navel. “So,” he continued, “what do you like on your pizza?”
Half an hour later there was another knock on Heather’s door. “Come in!” she called.
“The pizza is here,” said Liam, poking his head in the door.
“Great! I’m starving!” said Heather.
Liam opened the door wide and waited for Heather to join him in the hall. He led the way to the dining room where two plates, napkins, and empty glasses were already sitting. “What can I get you to drink?” he asked. “I’ve got Irn-Bru, a couple of beers, some Coke, maybe some wine, somewhere. And water, of course,” he added.
“What’s Irn-Bru?” she asked.
His eyes lit up with amusement. “Have you not had it? Ah, I guess not, coming from America,” he said. “It’s a Scottish soda, but it’s dead sweet. Probably not the best with pizza if you’ve never had it before.”
“Fair enough. I’ll have a beer,” she said.
He nodded once and disappeared into the kitchen. Heather heard the refrigerator door open, some shuffling, and the door close again with the gentle rattle of glass bottles. Liam returned with two beer cans. He passed one to Heather and, in unison, they cracked them open and poured them into the waiting glasses.
“Cheers,” said Liam, holding up his glass for a toast.
“Cheers,” Heather echoed, clinking her glass against his. They both took a sip. Liam opened the pizza box and slid it closer to Heather’s plate. “Thanks,” she said, taking two slices and passing it back. They ate without talking for a moment, but the silence wasn’t unpleasant.
“So, what are you in Edinburgh for?” Liam asked event
ually, but corrected himself before she could answer. “Ah, you said you were here for Hogmanay, didn’t you?”
“Yes. Well, sort of. I might be moving here,” she said. “I work for a tech company with offices here in the city. But I don’t know if it will happen. Part of it depends on whether or not I’m granted a visa and I haven’t heard back on that yet.”
Liam nodded slowly, chewing. He dropped his crust on his plate and swallowed. “Have you been to Edinburgh before?”
“Nope,” said Heather with a grin. “Part of the reason for my trip is to see if I like it here.”
“And if you like it then you’ll move here?”
Heather shrugged. “Why not?” she said again. “I’m young, no kids. Nothing to tie me down. If I want to make a big change in my life, this is the perfect time. Moving to another country sounds like a cool adventure, and the fact that everyone speaks English in the U.K. makes it an easy transition.”
Liam chewed thoughtfully on his pizza. “You’re quite the risk taker, aren’t you?”
“You wouldn’t move to a new country?” she asked him playfully.
“Maybe someday,” he said. “I haven’t been in a situation where I’ve really had to consider it.” He downed the rest of his beer and set the empty glass on the table. “I think you’ll like it here. It’s hard not to love Edinburgh. So long as you don’t mind a bit of rain, anyway. And the winters do tend to be a bit long. But so long as you don’t mind the climate.” He tilted his head to the side as if to say the climate was nothing.
“Have you always lived here?” Heather asked.