Kiltless

by Melissa Blue

  But, wait...

  Why did he care about any of this? He was making sure Jocelyn was fed. He hated how Lexxie shuffled back away from him as though he'd taken a hand to her arse. He felt like pish over Jocelyn refusing to kiss him. None of it mattered, but it still felt like a stone in his gut that no amount of shifting would dislodge.

  “Forget it.”

  She blinked and her head snapped up. “No.”

  “Joce,” he started to speak but she shook her head.

  “No.” She blew out a breath. “You're right, but first I'd like to know why we'd argue, just now?”

  He felt...exposed. Not necessarily with the question but the answer that immediately sprang to mind. “Like I said, forget it. I'm taking Lexxie out for a walk. I already ate, and then I'll get out of your hair.”

  She swallowed again and he couldn't read the emotion crossing her face. Irritation? Her boy toy was having a fit in her kitchen. How ridiculous, which is why he wanted to drop the whole conversation. But, still, he waited for her to come up with the words.

  “I-we—Ian, I'm not a fan of kissing.” She held her breath and her eyes widened.

  Every muscle in his frame went tight. The lie beat at his eardrums and deep in his chest. “Aye,” he spoke low.

  Why they would argue or even how they'd argue didn't matter. She had just looked him in the eye and lied. She wanted to fuck him, not kiss him. Pretty clear statement with the head turn, but she was nice enough not to throw it in his face. He'd done the same with other women, rebuff them in a clear way. Too many times.

  And, it pissed him off anyway. Both the lie and for caring about it. Turning his back to her, he whistled low and Lexxie shot to Jocelyn's room. Within moments, she came back with her leash clamped in her mouth. And because he did have a shite mood, he stole another small piece of meat from Jocelyn's plate and fed it to Lexxie.

  Joce sighed, started to speak and stopped. She narrowed her gaze on his face and tried again. “I'd rather you be here in the morning. It's...convenient to not have to wait for the day job to be over before we can...”

  She blew out a breath and looked up at him with a plead in her gaze to make what she was asking for easier to say.

  He sighed too and let go of the mad. No reason for it. He should have been concerned about the sudden need to kiss her anyway. It'd pass...but then he thought about her offer, really thought about the words she wasn't saying and came to a decision. “Put on some shoes. You're going with me.”

  “Where?”

  “To walk Lexxie and get me some more clothes from my flat. I like convenient.”

  Self-consciously she ran a hand over her hair. “Thank you for not saying run a weed-whacker through my hair too.”

  “You're messy because I made you that way. You won't mind if I mess you up again.”

  She grinned at him, but it didn't reach her eyes. “Give me ten minutes to look half-way decent.”

  “Okay,” he said and tried to roll the leftover tension from his shoulders.

  Her gaze caught on the movement but she didn't say a word before heading to her room. Ian glanced down at Lexxie who'd rested on her haunches, leash still in her mouth. He bent to her, the bathroom door closed behind him, and he let out a breath.

  Lexxie ran up to him and began to lick at his hand. He let her and placed a kiss on top of her smooth head. Her arse wagged harder. He patted her rump and clipped the leash on.

  Scratching her chin, he gazed into her eyes. “You know I love you?”

  She chuffed at him. He took it as a yes and felt somewhat better. Jocelyn came out of the bathroom looking freshly scrubbed and smiling at him. That knocked the rest of the irritation off. He'd wake up to that. Not have to worry about breaking her heart when he left. So...why in the fuck was he whining?

  But the stone didn't budge an inch at the thought. It only dug in deeper when she asked him who delivered the pork. Didn't matter that he'd made it himself and cleaned up after. He told her the name of a restaurant and let it go.

  CHAPTER NINE

  They were practically down to the wire now on the project. They'd adjusted their speed had revved up from last minute details. Yet, Jocelyn's head was so not in the game. Forty-eight hours and Ian would leave. Yeah, he'd be back when the exhibit ended to make sure everything was packed up properly and got delivered to the next museum in one stroke. A process she wasn't necessarily needed for.

  Almost three weeks ago she had talked a good talk about being fine, but she couldn't have imagined what they'd turn into during that time. For all intents and purposes, they lived together. Him with her. She looked forward to going home to Ian. In her bed. In her kitchen. In breathing distance, but since he made it his pet cause to ensure she was breathless most of the time, that was a moot distinction.

  So, trying to twist the white paper and create a wig made Jocelyn a little stabby. Didn't help that her intern hovered. His last year in grad school, Marcus had a pure talent in artistry. He'd been pushing for more and she was almost ready to give him more responsibility or actually stab someone.

  “Is the hot glue gun ready to go?” The mannequin's head sat on her desk. The cap had dried the day before and would be used again at some point.

  Crafting the wig was the very last project and then only small and insignificant details were left. And then the opening where nothing but academics and monied folks were invited. Then the people she did this for. Everyday people who probably would never have the money to buy antiques or pieces of history. Didn't have the means to cross the world and see relics outside of pictures, but they could afford the admission fee. That's why she did what she did. For them.

  The damn wig was standing in her way. And her head wasn't in the game, because Ian sat back quietly in what she called the war room watching her, pretending to work, but she knew the expression he wore. If Marcus wasn't hovering, Ian might have dragged her off to his office for a very important and private meeting.

  Marcus brought over the glue gun but didn't hand it over. “I can do this. I really want to give it a try. Can I show you something?”

  Curious, she pushed away the impatience and told him he could. He put the gun down and went to his area. He came back with sketches. Step by step drawings of how to put together the paper wig. Not hers, not from the Internet, but his own drawings. She could tell from the slant of the lines and the young man's personal flourishes. Impressed, she stopped twisting the paper.

  The details were breathtaking and accurate. “How long did it take you?”

  “Six weeks.”

  Half the time he'd been there and this is what he'd stepped up to do. She glanced at him, and he tried to look professional and capable, but she could see the eagerness. Although she was in charge of all the interns, this project wasn't her baby, alone at least.

  Jocelyn gave the papers to Marcus and pointed at Ian. “Show Baird. He gets the final say.”

  Ian sat up straighter in the chair, putting down his work on the small table next to him. He spent a much longer time over the sketches and asked for a pencil to make some small changes. Overall, he made the decision quickly. He glanced at his watch and met her gaze. Her skin prickled, because as far as he was concerned, it was time for them to leave.

  “You give either one of us a call if you can't finish in time or you have any snags,” Ian said in a stern but encouraging tone he used on all the interns. “I don't need to tell you how important it is that you don't bugger this up.”

  At that Jocelyn hesitated. Normally, when she didn't have a life after work, she'd have stayed with Marcus. Be the annoying boss hovering over someone else's shoulder. Hell, even when she was with Reese, she'd have stayed to gain more experience. But she was different with Ian.

  In forty-eight hours he'd be gone, and unlike what she'd said in her speech a few weeks ago, she'd be heart broken. They had tonight and waiting to be with him would be insane. So she wouldn't. Couldn't.

  Just in case, she wrote down her cell phone nu
mber for Marcus. She packed up her stuff, went to her car and waited to see Ian's pull up behind her. She led the way to her sister's house. An off shot from her own apartments, Kimberly lived in a home, in suburbia with her husband and kids. Her niece and nephew were home, but the husband hadn't made it yet.

  Her sister, as usual, gave Ian a steely gaze when he came in behind her, but they greeted each other in polite tones. As usual, Jocelyn ignored it. Lexxie bolted from somewhere in the back of the three bedroom home at the sound of their voices. Yeah, she tripped over her too-big paws on the way and greeted Ian first.

  Her sister made a noncommittal noise and frowned at the display. “You'd think it was his dog.”

  “My girl's smart,” Jocelyn said. “She doesn't bite the hand that feeds her.”

  Ian cooed to the dog as she flopped on her back for belly rubs. “There's my baby girl. How are you doing? Miss me? Aye? I know you did.”

  Since she knew what his hands felt like, Jocelyn didn't begrudge Lexxie for having absolutely no shame. Maybe, if Jocelyn had been on her game, she'd have realized her slip. Kimberly grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the shameless display. Her kids waved hi but didn't stop playing the video game.

  “He feeds her as in he lives with you?”

  There was no real way to talk herself out of this one, but she tried. “He visits. A lot.”

  Her sister glared. “More than a toothbrush and a change of underwear kind of visit?”

  After their almost argument, he'd picked up some extra clothes. After the fourth night in a row, she told him it'd be convenient for him to bring all his grooming essentials too so he wouldn't smell like girl soap and look like he hadn't shaved in a year. He'd done it without comment or looking at her in a way that said they were crossing a line, which they totally were. Her speech wasn't that good, but Jocelyn refused to read more into his motives.

  Sooner or later, she'd have to answer her sister, now, or when she walked around looking butt hurt after he left. “Closet and drawer space. I cook. He cleans.”

  They looked alike, so, it was unsettling to see a gaze so much like hers staring back with the same doom-is-looming-on-the-horizon emotions swirling in the brown irises.

  “I know,” Jocelyn murmured. “But I wanted this, even knowing damn well how it would end.”

  Kimberly sighed. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  Her sister turned that gaze on Ian who had straightened and was watching the game Cecelia and Lamar were playing. Lexxie took her time trotting over to Jocelyn. She bent down and gave Lexxie the same love Ian had. There was no contest. Lexxie didn't revel in it, but treated Jocelyn's petting as a chore. She chuckled and straightened, ending the charade.

  “Call me,” her sister whispered. “Any time. For anything.”

  “Okay. I'll be fine. Swear.”

  Kimberly rolled her eyes and shooed them all out of the door. Once home, Jocelyn took Lexxie out for her daily sniff, pee and poop around the neighborhood. Didn't take long because her dog didn't meander. She wasn't lazy in that regard, at least. Back inside the apartment they found Ian had stripped down. He'd put on sweats and a Cambridge t-shirt.

  He frowned into the refrigerator and then aimed that expression at her feet. “You haven't taken off your shoes yet. What's wrong?”

  “I'm worried. A litany of things, but the top of the list is Marcus. I shouldn't have left.”

  His gaze narrowed and he made a noncommittal noise. She laughed. He knew it wasn't the whole truth but he was going to let her have it. “It's the top thing I want to talk about,” she said. “Fair?”

  “Fair.” He closed the door and had a water bottle in hand. “I've seen his work and you working with him. I think he's ready. Don't worry about it. It'll be fine.” He paused. “Of course, he can always make us look like jackasses for trusting him, but that'll be on me, not you.”

  “Maybe,” she muttered.

  Lexxie left her side to sniff around Ian's feet. Finally, she just plopped down on his right foot. Sadly, she and her dog had it bad for the man. She wondered how Lexxie would react once she realized that Jocelyn was it, the real and only owner.

  But that's not why they were home. “Season the steaks, then meet me in the bedroom. We've got some very important things to talk about before you go.”

  He raised a brow. “You're going to let me use salt unsupervised?”

  She hissed and thought about that for a moment. “Use the All Seasoning.”

  “Your trust in me is breathtaking at times.” He grinned at her and tutted at Lexxie. The dog rose on command, tail wagging and smiling at him with a stupid I'm-so-in-love grin.

  Jocelyn sighed. Yeah. She kicked off her shoes, the jacket came off next and she was naked by the time she curled under the covers. Lexxie preceded Ian, but mainly to settle down right at the threshold. Her girl knew the routine, too. Ian passed her by and closed the door in the dog's face. A short whine to make her opinion known but no scratching followed the action.

  “Your dog likes to listen,” Ian said.

  “She's a pervert like her owner. It's why she puts up with me, I think.”

  He tugged off his shirt and displayed the chiseled chest Jocelyn never got tired of seeing. “Oh, so you've accepted this new side of yourself?” he asked.

  “Around the time you got me off with my showerhead.” She tried to remember and couldn't. “When was that?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “Yeah. Then.”

  He tossed his sweats at her and she caught them, pressing her nose into the soft cotton just to smell his decadent musk mixed with her laundry soap. Completely pervy, but that's why he'd tossed them at her—he wanted to watch her do it, so, she didn't feel alone.

  Ian waylaid his path to the bed to break out the oil and a handful of condoms, placing both in easy reach on the nightstand. Finally he slipped in beside her, sighed and pulled her on top of him. Where he was hard, she was soft and their bodies curved together perfectly. She arched up, letting her hands sink into the mattress, one on each side of his torso.

  “Feels like I haven't touched you all day,” he murmured before kissing her collarbone. His hair had grown out again, curling around his ears and looking unkempt.

  “We haven't if you discount the morning.” She tried to say it lightly, to continue the act of not caring that this might be the last time he'd touch her like this.

  Her throat clogged with all the emotions she'd tried to hide over the last few weeks. The moment his body lay warm and hard beneath hers. Or, maybe the moment her dog plopped on his foot, unabashedly needing to touch him, any part of him. Jocelyn completely understood the need to feel the warmth of his skin.

  “Joce,” he whispered but pulled back. “Look at me.”

  God, she was going to cry and then that would make it clear her speech had been bullshit from the go. It would prove that those twenty-nine years of being timid and sweetish, his word, and un-adventurous was who she really was. No, she hadn't calcified to that woman who didn't take chances—she was that woman already. Pretending to be someone different for a month didn't change who she really was.

  She'd only proved without any doubt she was a meat and potatoes kind of woman. Ian would have every right to walk away now instead of in two days and feel like shit for doing it. She'd broken the one rule they really had. Fuck. Her eyes stung, and she tried to blink fast, keeping her face averted from his.

  “Look. At. Me. Don't hide.” His burr deepened. “I know I shouldn't be here. With you. Like this. So just fucking look at me.”

  She did and couldn't read his expression, but his head was tilted up, meeting her gaze head on. She grasped again for lighthearted. “Now all you need is a kilt.”

  He didn't smile. “Don't cry over me. I'm not worth it.”

  “I'm not. I wasn't.”

  She put her hand over his mouth to make him shut up. His words were absolute drivel. There was much to be said about knowing who you were, what you were ca
pable of, accepting yourself, flaws and all. He couldn't see that a lesser man, a shit of a man, would have led her on. Made her believe they could have happily ever after when the time became right...and then leave her. He'd told her this is what they would be and nothing more. He'd stated their end date.

  Jocelyn had wanted to believe that she'd be a different kind of woman, but she wasn't. That wasn't his fault. “No.”

  He closed his eyes and rested his head deeper into the pillow. She frowned because he suddenly looked so exhausted.

  “I should go,” he murmured.

  “But you won't.”

  His lips curved into a smile and he laughed. “But I won't.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Yes,” he gritted out and opened his eyes.

  “You've got oil and that means a massage. Maybe we should do that instead of talking.” She shifted, spreading her legs. He was hard as a rock, but he wanted to talk. Stubborn man.

  His breath huffed out and his jaw clenched. “Wait.”

  She shook her head. “Done talking.”

  He let out an exasperated sigh. “You drive me nuts.”

  She smiled. “Usually because I'm always sitting on them.”

  “Joce,” he said again but groaned as she slid up.

  “You were saying?”

  “We're not done with this.”

  She said, “Yes. We. Are.”

  His lids were low, voice raspy and his hands were already working their way up her spine. She teased him some more, using a fake Scottish burr. “Ach. A man's heart is not in his stomach, Lass.”

  He smiled and she ran her fingers over his lips. “What fantasy haven't we explored yet?” he asked.

  Kissing him. A fairly new fantasy, but it ran rampant in her mind. He'd tried twice, but both times she'd dodged his lips. He'd gotten the message and hadn't tried again. Smart man.

  Tonight, kissing him would undo her, so, she nipped at his ear lobe. He held his breath and she pressed closer to feel his heartbeat pound against her breasts. “You.”