by Vonnie Davis
“That sounds great. I’ll see you then. Have fun at the party.”
“Och, it’ll be chaos. Utter chaos. Three year olds and younger and a bonnie lass of eight who kens she runs the show.” He chuckled. “And she does, too. See ye tomorrow.” He ended the call.
She stood on the fenced outlook for several minutes, enjoying the gentle waves and breathing in the briny smell. How soon before the weather would be warm enough to roll up a pair of jeans and wade into the frothy fingers of the bay that fought to keep their hold onto the beach? She’d found home.
After a short drive to a small strip mall with a book store she’d discovered a couple days ago, she hurried in to find a couple of novels. Something to keep her mind occupied until her new job started in a few days. She picked up “Buried Truth” a new mystery by Jannine Gallant and the latest book by Dan Brown. On the way out she spied a book titled “The Cosmic Machine: The Science That Runs Our Universe.” Under the watchful eye of the cranky, bearded shop owner, she thumbed through it, read a few passages, and bought it, too. She’d always been a freak for science.
At the end of the mall was a pub called The Mathe Cave. She walked toward the place to see if they had a menu in the window. Now that her nerves had calmed down, she was starving. The menu listed typical Scottish fare, so she opened the door to a dimly lit bar.
Five men swiveled their bar stools to take a gander at who’d just walked in. The arrogant man she’d dreamed about last night sat in the middle still dressed in his uniform. He welcomed her with a smile until one of his drinking buddies gave a low whistle. Then Bowie’s face morphed into a scowl.
Whatever his problem was, she hiked her chin and sauntered to an empty wooden booth next to a window. She ordered a whisky sour from the brunette waitress who was having a popping love affair with her gum. Cameo slipped out of her coat and reached for the menu.
“Did ye come ta have a birthday dinner with me?” Bowie slid into the booth beside her, forcing her to move over.
“Do you mind? There’s a whole empty side over there.” She pointed.
He nodded. “I noticed that, but I wouldna get the full effects of that amazing perfume ye wear if I sat way over there.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She opened her purse and rummaged until she found a small spray bottle of her favorite fragrance. She grabbed his hand, turned his wrist over, and sprayed a liberal dose on it. “Now. Move. You can smell it on yourself all night.”
Bowie tossed his head back and laughed. “Ye are a spitfire, so ye are.” He picked up his squat tumbler of whisky and moved across from her. He eased the menu from her hands. “Since ′tis me birthday. We should be having me favorites. Right?” He motioned the waitress over.
She sat beside him, or on him. The gum-smacking waitress was so close, Cameo couldn’t tell. “What would ye like me to give ye?” Her voice had lowered to a sexual purr.
Oh puh-lease! Go ahead and drag him to the back room. He’s so randy, it won’t take much pulling.
“Me date and I would like Cock-A-Leekie stew, Scottish Bubbles and Squeak and a plate of assorted shortbreads and Highland truffles fer dessert.” He tipped his glass. “And I’ll have another since I have a beautiful lady to share it with.”
She popped up like a jack-in-the-box. “It wasna that long ago, it was me ye were afta.”
He took her hand. “Aye and ′tis sorry I am it dinna work out between us. I ken I’m a useless bastard.”
She snorted. “Ye can say that again. Doona let him get in your panties, ye’ll never see him again.”
Cameo felt sorry for her. “Oh believe me. He’d never fit in my panties. Looks to me as if the man’s all ass.”
The waitress elbowed Bowie. “Och, I likes her.” She flounced off to put in their orders.
He sipped his drink. “Sorry about that. I got too drunk one night and—
“Don’t insult the woman by belittling her as if she’s not good enough when you’re sober. Now, happy birthday and be on your way. I have a book I’d like to read.” She pulled the one about the cosmos out of her shopping bag.
“I’ve got that one, too. It’s fascinating, although I’m only half-way through it. Do ye enjoy books about space?”
“I do, yes. Books are helpers and healers. ‘It is from books that wise people derive consolation in the troubles of life.’” She’d dwelt on that quote after her mother’s passing.
“Victor Hugo, French writer and poet said that.” Bowie smiled. “’To learn to read is to light a fire; every syllable that is spelled out is a spark’ Another one of his great quotes.”
A ginger-haired man slipped some coins into the juke box and a slow tune started to play. A couple from another booth got up to dance. Bowie stood and extended his hand. “I can see I’ve upset ye, would you do me the honor of a dance as a way of apology. Ye can tell me about yer job interview.”
“I haven’t danced in ages. You’ll laugh at my clumsiness.” She stood and took his hand.
He swept her in his arms as easy as a child running to catch the breeze. “Is that yer way of telling me ye plan to stomp me toes with those sexy shoes yer wearin’?” He pulled her closer. “Ye ken ye’ve put me in an embarrassing situation.”
“How?” She breathed the word against his neck.
“I donna ken if I’m getting turned on by the perfume yer wearing or what ye sprayed on me.” His broad hand spread across the small of her back.
She laughed. “A woman would need to be careful around you. No wonder that poor waitress was so besotted.”
He spun her around and kissed her below her earlobe. “Tell me about yer interview. Are we going to be on opposite sides in the courtroom?”
She smiled up at him. “Oh, you better believe it. Have your facts in order, officer.”
He chuckled. “Looks like I’ve been fairly warned. In two weeks I’ll take over as the new Chief Detective. Kendric is being transferred to Sonas Isle as the Chief of Police there. The man who’s held the job fer years has cancer. He’s a good Scot and we’re all saddened by his suffering. He’d coming to Matheville where the hospital’s bigger and there’s more equipment fer his needs.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Cancer is a terrible thing. My Aunt Edna had it and I moved in to take care of her. My mum worked too many hours as a nurse to help out. We lost Aunt Edna over two years ago. I still miss her sweet voice, her laughter.”
“Were you in university then?”
She nodded. “Pre-law. I’d read books to her and she used to say she’d be smart enough to hold court in heaven.” Tears filled her eyes and his thumbs wiped them away with such a tender touch. He whispered her name once and awareness skittered across her skin.
“I’d take away yer pain if I could.”
She wasn’t so sure she believed him. The handsome man with his muscular body reminded her of a player. He could be dangerous to any woman he set his eyes on, no matter how temporary. She’d have to make sure she was never more than a friend.
“Our stew has arrived. Let’s sit and talk of happier things.” Bowie led her to their booth, his hand gently holding hers and his thumb lightly rubbing over her knuckles.
The Cock-A-Leekie-Stew was delicious. Chicken, leeks, carrots, and barley in a flavorful broth. Between bites they talked about their interest in Einstein and space. They discussed books they’d read and which ones made an impression that stayed with them. She was surprised at how interesting he could be. How much they had in common.
The waitress took away their empty bowls and placed plates of Scottish Bubbles and Squeak patties on the table and served fresh drinks. “Don’t give the patties such a sour look, Cameo. They’re fried patties of ground potatoes, cabbage, carrot, and cheese that you dip in sour cream. Me mum used ta make them every year fer me birthday or when I was sick. As a kid I couldna get enough of them.
“A heart attack took her nearly a year ago. Da hasna been sober a day since. She was his mate, his love, his reason fer living. I
’ve often wondered if I’ll ever find a woman I’ll care fer that much. I guess that’s why I keep searching. Trying to find the right woman the way me da did.”
She dipped part of a pattie into the sour cream and shook her head. “I’m not so sure that kind of love truly exists. In books or movies, maybe, but not in real life.” She shoved the concoction in her mouth, chewed, and moaned. “Oh my. No wonder you loved these.”
“They’re epic, right? Do you know him?” He pointed with his fork and when she looked in the direction he’d pointed, he tried to steal one of hers.
She caught him and jabbed his hand with her fork. “Aw! I’ll arrest ye fer assault.”
“Big baby.” She drained her glass. It had been a long time since she’d simply relaxed and had a good time. They talked and laughed and teased. A slow song started and Bowie asked her to dance again. She was so full, she needed to move.
He pulled her close. “If ye could do anything in space, what would it be?”
“Ride a beam of light. See if I could create a wrinkle in time. Would I be older or younger when I got back? You?”
“Since there’s nae speed limits in space, I’d like to ride a land rover. Which reminds me, how much tipple do ye usually drink? I’ve counted four whisky sours so far.” He was keeping track of the number of drinks she’d had? The nerve of that scoundrel.
“I usually drink white wine, but I was celebrating the new job tonight.”
“Then I better take ye to the lodge.”
She pulled back and glared at him. “I don’t think so. I take care of myself. You’ve had more to drink than I have. Getting in a car with you would be like suicide. I’m not doing it.” Besides, who made him boss of her?
He pressed the middle of her back so she was chest to chest with him. “Cameo, dinna be stubborn.” The sexual purring of his voice sent shivers of need through her body. She’d have to fight her attraction.
Stubborn? Oh, he’d just met the Queen of Stubborn.
When the dance was over, he made his excuses to go to the loo. She grabbed the waitress and asked her to quickly tally their bill. She’d pay for his birthday dinner, but there was no way she’s let him take her home. Bill paid, coat and scarf on, and bag of books in hand, she was about to push open the door when a large hand covered hers. She hung her head. If only she’d moved faster.
“Would ye let me walk ye to yer car?”
“As long as you don’t try to follow me to the lodge, yes. That would be very gentlemanly of you.” She’d put extra emphasis on the word gentlemanly. He walked beside her to the opposite end of the little mall, their shoulders touching and his hand brushing hers. “I’m not holding hands with you.”
Bowie stopped and jerked her toward him so hard, the breath whooshed from her lungs. “Maybe not, but ye will kiss me good night. Ye’ve given me one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had. And we’ll end it with a proper kiss.”
Fluttering went berserk in her stomach as his head slowly lowered until his lips brushed over hers. He sucked on her bottom lip until she moaned and then his tongue dipped into her mouth and stroked hers.
For a minute she feared the knees she had locked together were going to melt into one large lump of bone, muscles, and flesh. Because the way he kissed her made her two degrees from liquefying into a feminine pool of hormones. Sweet mother of God, the man could kiss.
He backed her against a building, pressing so hard against her chest with his, she would bear the imprint of his badge on her boob for a week. His hand banded her ass to his erection.
“Just a reminder” She pushed his chest away with her hand. “You will not follow me home. I’m glad you had a good birthday. Everyone deserves a special celebration. Good night. ” She pivoted toward her car and put her heels in high gear. One more kiss from him and she’d be his to do with whatever he pleased.
Bowie’s lips tingled from an all too brief kiss. It was the kind of kiss that should have continued until he was balls deep inside her. She was the kind of woman to drive a man wild. The way she looked at him and the excitement in her voice when she talked about something that interested her. How she felt soft, yet firm in his arms, the way she smelled and the sexy way she moaned—and sweet God, the way her lips melded to his when they kissed. She could so easily become his kryptonite.
He walked in the opposite direction to his car. He ken where she was going; there was no need for him ta rush. He was simply following her to the lodge, just to make sure she arrived okay. He turned on the ignition and wondered if she’d have one of her prophetic dreams tonight or if she’d dream of him. The engine to his SUV turned over and he headed to the highway for Matheson Lodge, her back lights shinning in the distance, He wound down his window so the fresh air would help keep him alert.
At one point, he’d lost sight of her tail lights. Where had she gone? There was nae other way to the lodge. Had she driven off the road with its steep drop-off on the left? His panic made him slow down, looking for any signs of damage or a car driven off the cliff. Meanwhile, some rat-arsed numpty was on his tail, honking his horn for Bowie to go faster.
His temper steamed. He ought to arrest the bastard. Oh bloody hell, now the jerk was flashing his high beams at him. Bowie was going to bust his chops. He pulled over to the right side of the road against the stone ridge that rose up, hoping the driver behind him would pass. No such luck. Instead, the eegit pulled over, too, and got out of the car. He should have ken. Christ, even in the dark, he recognized those legs.
Cameo strutted to his car and crossed her arms on his opened window. “Do you live along this deserted road, officer?”
“Well, nae.”
“Then would it be safe to say you’re stalking me? Unless you make a U-turn right here, I’m coming into the police station tomorrow to make a stalking complaint. I am not drunk.”
His eyes narrowed. “Just how did you get behind me?”
She started braiding her hair with her leather gloves on. “There’s a small picnic area half a mile back. I simply pulled into it and turned off my car. After you whizzed by, I counted to five and started my car again and pulled out.” Static electricity had her hair standing out all over the place. The sloppy braid would never survive the remainder of the ride.
“I told you I know how to get to the lodge. There’s a mile to go before I cross the moat and then I’ll be there. Go home. Leave me alone. I’ll go back to my car and wait for you to turn around.” Her lips pursed. Some of her hair stood on end like a red porcupine.
He grinned and slung his wrist over the steering wheel. “That kiss got to ye didna it?”
She groaned deep in her throat. “You wish, you dickhead.”
Her ass twitched in that tight skirt she wore. And he laughed as he made a slow U-turn. She’d be a pistol to handle, but feckin’ hell the fun of it.
Chapter 5
Cameo slammed her car door and jerked off her gloves, tossing them on the seat next to her. “Me kiss got ta ya, didna it,” she mimicked Bowie’s burr. “That is one arrogant man and I hope I never see him again except in court where I will rip apart his testimony.” She started her car and drove the rest of the way to the lodge, grumbling because his kiss had gotten to her. If she were going to be honest, almost everything about him made her melt and ooze in certain places.
Odd that they had so many things in common. Their love of science and astronomy. The hunger they had of learning new things. Their same choice in dance music The way they both seemed to fit together so well. She scowled. Too well, really.
Once she reached her room, she added more logs to her small fireplace and drew a hot bath. Soon she’d be sleeping in her own place. How great it would feel to have her space decorated in her own style. She unbraided her hair—and when she’d done that, she hadn’t a clue, but it looked a fright—and brushed it so she could braid it neater.
In a matter of minutes, she was snuggled under her covers, reading her new book, “Buried Truth.” It didn’t take her long
to get involved in the suspenseful story. An hour or so later, her eyelids got heavy.
She was naked again.
The wind blew back her long hair as she flew over a field of sheep. There were two small stone humpbacked bridges over two small creeks that merged into one farther up the meadow. The sheep’s wool had grown thick over the winter. Three men with machetes ran onto the countryside and loped off the heads of one each, draining the blood into jars. One wore a black ball cap and a ginger beard halfway down his chest. Another had a stocking cap over a tattooed face with a white mustache. And the third resembled the one from her dream last night.
She woke sitting up and leaning over, sick to her stomach. Why would these men kill harmless animals? They seemed addicted to the killing. Oh God, they’d been laughing. She ran for the bathroom and threw-up.
After brushing her teeth, Cameo slipped into her blue fuzzy baffies and reached for her blue fleece robe. It looked as if it was going to be another cup of tea night. She was half-way through the cup of chamomile when Paisley shuffled into the big kitchen of the lodge.
“Can’t sleep either?” She put more water on to boil.
Cameo slumped in her chair. “Bad dreams. Two nights in a row now.”
“I can’t seem to relax from the twins’ birthday party.” She placed her hand to her forehead. “Oh, Cameo, the constant screeching and screaming. Fifteen minutes into the celebration and I was wishing I’d planned a drive-thru party.” She moved her hand to her abdomen. “I think the noise was too much for the baby. It started to move for the first time during the mayhem.”
“That has to be exciting.”
“Cameo, your bad dreams. Do you have them often?” She rubbed her little baby bump.
Normally, she wouldn’t explain to everyone, but there was something special about Paisley. “I have prophetic dreams. Sometimes they’re horrible showing me future calamities.”
“Wow, that puts a lot of pressure on you. Do you try to find the person and warn them?”
She nodded. “They don’t always believe me, though. They think I’m cray-cray.”