by Carey Corp
And I was terrified of losing him.
He turned and searched my face. “Tha’s what I’ve been tryin’ to puzzle out. What do your parents’ failures have to do with us?”
“We’re so happy together now, but it scares me a little.” Pressure built behind my eyes, but I had no tears left. “I worry that once we’re officially bound to one another, the mystery will be gone. That, like my parents, we’ll start bickering and getting on each other’s nerves. That we won’t be in love anymore. And . . . and then you’ll move on without me.”
His lips pressed together and a furrow appeared over his left brow. “Ye act as if what we have is fragile. Tha’ if one of us tugs too hard one way or the other we might sit down and decide it isna worth the effort.”
“I — ”
“Nay, let me finish. You’ve got to stop putting barriers up against me.” He took my shoulders in a firm grip, his eyes drilling into mine. “I am not yer father, Verranica. I willna give up on ye. I love tha’ you challenge me, tha’ ye push me to be better. We have a divine Calling, yes. But even if we dinna, I would choose you. Over and over I will choose you until you get it through your thick-as-granite skull that I will always choose you.”
A smile bloomed from somewhere deep inside me, my heart inflating until it felt too large to fit inside my chest. I took a step toward him. “I choose you too.”
He pulled me into his arms. “I’m verra sorry about your da. I wish I could meet him just once and explain everything he’s missin’ by not knowing you.”
I nodded against his chest, my throat too constricted to speak.
After several long moments, he leaned back and lifted my chin. “Better now?”
“Yes, much.”
“Good.” Jamie flashed his brash grin. “Now, go get dressed so ye can show me off at this party.”
I shook my head and shoved his shoulder. “Arrogant pig.”
He tugged me against his chest and lowered his head. His lips brushed mine and then he pulled back, still so close I felt the vibration against my mouth as he whispered, “Aye, but I’m your arrogant pig.”
The black fabric flowed over my skin like water, hugging my curves as if the dress had been made for me. Synthetic material had its advantages. I adjusted the strap and turned to look over one shoulder at my reflection, admiring the back of the gown, which dipped all the way to my waist. At the store, in the dressing room, Kenna’s exact words had been, “That dress is going to blow Jamie MacCrae’s mind.”
I pointed my toe to admire my new strappy black and silver four-inch heels. She was right. He would either love it or throw a blanket around my shoulders and refuse to let me leave the hotel room. Either way, I couldn’t wait to see his reaction. Quietly, I opened the bedroom door. Jamie sat on the edge of the couch with his elbows resting on his knees, watching baseball.
I cleared my throat and struck a pose with my hand on my hip.
No reaction.
“James Thomas.” It’s what his mother used to call him, I was told, and it got his attention every time.
“Oh sorry, I was just . . .” He grabbed the remote and clicked off the TV. “The Yankees are behind by one, in the eighth innin’. We can watch it in the lim — ” His gaze landed on me and he froze like an effigy, one arm stretched out as he set the remote on the table. “ — o.”
I pivoted so he could see the plunging back.
He didn’t speak, but I could hear him coming up behind me. When I felt his warm breath against my bare skin, I glanced at him over my shoulder. His eyes were fastened to my exposed back, his jaw unhinged. I turned around. “So, do you like it?”
He swallowed, and when he spoke the rough edge to his voice sent delicious chills down my spine. “Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.”
“Now that’s more like it.” There were definite advantages to dating a Shakespearean scholar.
He reached out, but then lowered his arm and shoved both his hands into his tuxedo pants pockets. “I dinna rightly know if I should touch ye. But I’ve a mind to keep ye here all to meself.” His fierce gaze made my breath catch.
“Don’t tempt me.” My eyes swept over him, every line of his muscled body highlighted by the precise cut of his suit. Warmth rushed through my veins and pooled in my gut. I took a step closer to him and flattened my palm against his chest, and the heat of his skin reached me through the crisp, white material of his shirt. He watched me, not moving a muscle, not breathing. Our gazes locked, and time stood still. We had the penthouse all to ourselves for the rest of the night.
I gripped the silken lapel of his jacket and took another step closer, tilting my chin to look up into his face. But the dangerous glint in his eyes — the barely leashed control — reminded me of a warning he’d once given me about dangling bait in front of a hungry shark.
Releasing my hold on him, I took several steps back. I would never want to tempt either of us to do something we’d later regret.
Proving we were on the same wavelength, he quirked a wicked grin. “Smart move, love. I’m feelin’ decidedly un-prince like this night.”
I grabbed my wrap and crystal-studded bag and headed for the door. “Let’s get out of here while we still can.”
The country club had your typical old-money feel. Expensive but slightly outdated décor. The air permeated by decades of Coco Chanel mixed with the enduring scent of cigar smoke. Just inside the entry hall, I was greeted by my old cheer squad member, Amber, who sat at a table handing out nametags and place cards. With her dyed blond curls and carroty spray-tan, she was clearly still a one hundred percent pure, grade-A Stephanie clone.
“Oh, hi, Ronnie! Steph said you might be coming.” I bit my lip at the nickname. Besides Janet, Stephanie and her clones were the only ones who ever called me that. But for one night, I could endure it.
Amber searched the seating chart and then found my place card. “Well, this says, ‘Ronnie Welling and guest,’ and I can see that you’re alone. Steph thought that might be the case. So I’ll just — ”
“Verranica, the gentleman takin’ the coats is from Edinburgh.”
Amber blinked, and then her gaze widened like an anime character with stars for eyes.
I took Jamie’s arm. “Amber, this is my fiancé.”
Jamie stared at me, one corner of his mouth lifting. It was the first time I’d admitted to our commitment to one another. But after today, I knew it was time to claim this great love I’d been given. It didn’t mean I couldn’t stand on my own. I’d already proven that I could.
Jamie turned to Amber and extended his hand. “James Thomas Kellan MacCrae, the fourth. But ye can call me Jamie.”
She shook Jamie’s hand and then handed us our nametags and table number, continuing to ogle him like she’d never seen the male species before.
“Well, tha’ was peculiar.”
I led him into the dining room. “Get used to it.”
We paused at the entryway, the party already in full swing. Round tables rimmed the dance floor where couples mingled and chatted. A DJ on the far end of the room played a soft instrumental. I spotted one of my old teachers with his wife and waved. He returned the gesture enthusiastically. The crowd appeared to be a mix of older and younger couples.
We stepped farther into the room and I gasped — plastered all over the walls were enormous posters of Bainbridge High athletes in action. We wandered toward our assigned table, and hanging directly behind it was a six-foot-wide Stephanie in full cheer regalia, her limbs stretched into a herkie.
A giggle bubbled up in my throat as my gaze moved to the next life-sized poster: Eric shooting a basketball, its edges trimmed close like a Fathead wall decal. Was this a shrine or a fund-raiser? The next banner showed Amber and Steph in cheer formation. I turned in a circle and realized every poster featured our graduating class, but none of them included me. The closest I came to being represented was a group photo where you could see part
of my hair and arm on the cropped edge. But I didn’t feel the least disappointed.
“Veronica? I can’t believe you actually made it.” The words, spoken in the tone of a dog’s squeak toy, made me turn.
“I wouldn’t’ve missed it, Steph.” I smiled, determined to be gracious even if it killed me.
Stephanie’s gaze raked over my gown, and when she apparently couldn’t find fault, her lips slid into a snide smirk. “Nice dress. It’s quite an improvement over the leopard-print pants and hooker boots.”
In my peripheral vision, I saw Jamie arch an inquiring brow, which unfortunately drew the eyes of the snake.
“And who might you be, darlin’?” Steph flipped her blonde curls behind her bare shoulders and slinked toward my boyfriend.
My stomach clenched as she got into Jamie’s space and ran her nails down the sleeve of his coat. But Jamie wasn’t falling for it. He glared at her hand until she pulled it back to her chest and then fiddled with the low neckline of her dress. “I’m Stephanie Heartford, your hostess with the mostest.” She tittered, and I felt embarrassed for her. Did she really just say that? I met Jamie’s gaze over Stephanie’s head. Amusement played over his expression, and I let the tension flow out of my shoulders. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I am James MacCrae, Verranica’s fiancé.”
Stephanie whipped around so fast her hair smacked Jamie’s chest. She stared at my left hand, and then I realized our mistake. A catlike smirk twisted her mouth. “Where’s your ring?”
“I — ” I wore the Ring of Aontacht on my right hand, and it’s unique design would pass for an unconventional engagement ring . . . if Steph hadn’t already noticed my naked left finger.
“What’d you do? Rent him from Hot British Escorts ‘R’ Us?” She tilted her head back and let loose a cackle that would’ve put the Witch of Doon to shame. “Oh, Ronnie, I’m sooo glad you came.”
She marched off, making a beeline for a group of cheer-bots.
I sunk into a nearby chair and watched as ten sets of eyes stared in our direction. The girls I used to cheer with snickered behind their hands, and then split up to spread the latest gossip. So high school.
Jamie pulled out the seat beside me and sat so our knees touched. “Dinna let that daft cow get to ye.” He leaned forward and took my hand. “Yer crown is no’ what makes you a queen. And you are betrothed to me, even without a ring.” He lifted my left hand and kissed the back of my fingers, his steady gaze glued to my face.
“What did I ever do to deserve you?”
He stood and pulled me to my feet, then leaned down to whisper in my ear. “You must be a verra good girl.”
Surprised I didn’t turn into a puddle right there, I let him lead me to the dance floor as the strains of one of my favorite Lady Antebellum songs began. He spun me in a circle and then placed his broad hand on my lower back and took the other one firmly in his. As always, we fell into perfect rhythm with one another, our movements flowing together until we were like one person. Heads turned to watch us as we deftly waltzed past. And by the end of the song, there was a smattering of applause, and I saw we were the only ones on the floor.
“Well now, wasn’t that entertaining!” Stephanie’s amplified voice cut through the crowd.
She stood on the stage gripping the DJ’s microphone with a manic air as she fought to pull the attention back to herself. “I bet you wish you’d had a dance partner like him at senior prom, Ronnie.” She smirked and shook her head. “Oh, that’s right, you weren’t there.”
My spine went ridged and Jamie tightened his arm around my waist. Prom had been one of Eric and my “off” weeks — we’d had quite a few. In hindsight, I was pretty sure I knew why.
Barreling on, Stephanie announced dinner, gave instructions for the auction, and promised more dancing to follow. “Then we’ll show ’em how it’s done. Won’t we, babe?”
I followed her gaze across the crowd to Eric’s flushed face. He was either appropriately embarrassed by his fiancé’s behavior or he’d been to the bar one too many times. He caught my eye and flashed the trademark Russo grin. I was surprised to feel nothing. Not even anger. He was part of a past that no longer defined me.
“Jamie, I think I’ve seen enough. Let’s make a donation and then get out of here.”
“Are ye sure? Leavin’ this soon would appear as a retreat to your enemy.”
Knowing he was right, I sighed. “Okay, one more hour.”
Dinner turned out to be surprisingly fun. We were seated with Phyllis and her boyfriend, who were home for the weekend from Purdue, and an older couple I didn’t know. Phyllis had been one of my few allies on the cheer squad, given we were in some AP courses together. We spent the evening trading stories about college life and my adventures with Scottish cuisine. The older couple had just returned from a European cruise — although they’d never been to Alloway. Then the discussion turned to baseball and Jamie kept up with the guys at the table as if he’d watched the American game his entire life.
After dessert, the DJ started a fast set, and I immediately recognized the opening of a Justin Timberlake song.
“Oh! Remember this one, Vee?” Phyllis threw down her napkin, and grabbed my hand, pulling me out of my chair. I glanced over my shoulder at Jamie, who shot me a wink. He knew I couldn’t resist a chance to dance — or, thanks to the playlist on my phone, a JT song.
Phyllis and I kicked off our shoes, lifted our arms, and shimmied onto the middle of the floor. After a few failed attempts at synchronization, we found our place in our old hip-hop cheer-dance routine. A few other girls joined in, and by the end of the song the whole squad had picked up the routine and danced along. Even Stephanie, who seemed determined to turn every move into something vulgar. But I was having too much fun to care.
After several more songs, I made my way back to our table with my updo falling down around my shoulders and a sheen of sweat coating my skin.
“Hey.” Jamie rose to greet me. “Did ye have fun?”
Drawn to him by forces beyond my control, I stepped close and weaved my fingers into the back of his hair. His warm knuckles traced down my spine, sending tingles all over my body, and then he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close. He lowered his head and kissed me until the room began to spin, and I had to grip his shoulders to keep from floating away.
When he pulled back, he flashed a wolfish leer. “Tha’ should put an end to any doubts you’re truly mine.”
“Aren’t you incredibly thoughtful?”
“’Tis a sacrifice, but I try.”
After asking Jamie to make a shamefully large donation, I headed to the restroom. We could’ve paid for twelve entire school buildings, but I didn’t want to make it too easy for Stephanie. Especially knowing she’d take all the credit.
While in the bathroom stall, a group of girls came in, chattering over one another like a flock of magpies. I reached to undo the latch, but stopped when I heard my name.
“Did you see Veronica’s date? Aye yai yai! That boy is smokin’!”
“He reminds me of that one British actor, Alex — ”
“But hotter!”
The next voice I recognized as Amber’s. “Yeah, but Steph said she’s lying about them being engaged.”
“Ring or not, the way he watches her . . .”
“Like a starving man at a buffet.”
“And he can’t stop touching her . . .”
“The way they danced!”
“It’s as if they’ve been dancing together forever.”
There was a pause and someone sighed.
“I think they’re really in love.”
I smiled to myself as they all agreed, even Amber. Not wanting to answer the million questions they would throw at me, I waited until everyone left before coming out. I washed up and was reapplying my lipstick when the door swung open and Eric sauntered in.
I spun around. “This is the lady’s room.”
He leaned a hip against the counter b
eside me; his tie was loose around his neck, his blue eyes unfocused. “I know that. I came in to talk to you.”
I hadn’t spoken a word to him all night. We’d grown up down the street from one another, but he’d killed our friendship when he chose to cheat on me. “Get out.”
“Just give me a second, Vee.” He stood and moved into my space, and his breath practically made me secondhand drunk.
I stepped back, but he followed. “I think about you a lot . . .”
“Eric, just stop. I have a strong suspicion you won’t even remember this tomorrow.”
He moved closer, and I leaned away, the bare skin of my back stinging as it hit the cold marble counter top.
“I heard you aren’t really engaged to that pretty-boy Scotsman. But I bet I can make you happy.”
“That pretty-boy Scotsman is going to beat you into next week if you don’t back up. Right. Now.” I gritted my teeth and tried to sidestep, but he blocked me. He was so close I could smell his Axe body spray — the same scent he’d worn since he hit puberty.
“Come with me, Vee. Now. My car’s out back.” He rubbed my arm, and his skin felt clammy against mine. “We could leave this town and never look back.”
I’d once longed for this moment, dreamt of us escaping Bainbridge together. His arm moved around me, and he rubbed my back, his hand traveling up to the nape of my neck. I shivered in revulsion.
“See, you want me too.” He lowered his head, whispering in my ear. “You can’t deny it.”
The door swung open behind him and Phyllis stopped dead in her tracks. She took one look at us and breathed, “I’ll get Jamie.” And fled back out the door.
“Eric, seriously, you need to go.” I gave his chest a warning push, but he didn’t move. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
But it was as if I hadn’t spoken. “I saw you watching me while you were dancing. It was just like old times. Like we’d never broken up.” He tightened his grip on the back of my neck and leaned his head toward mine, puckering his lips.
Acting on instinct, I closed my fist, reared back, and punched him in the eye. The sickening smack of flesh on flesh sounded just as Jamie and Phyllis rushed in. Eric released me and stumbled back, clutching his face. “What’d you do that for?”