Almost Jamie (The Jet City Kilt Series) (Volume 1)

by Gina Robinson

  And there was the subtle inquiry about my status.

  Taken by surprise, I shook my head, automatically running from any thought of commitment. "I just came off a bad breakup after a longtime relationship." I could have eaten my words.

  He nodded and his expression became tight, his posture tensing the slightest bit.

  I hardly dared hope he was disappointed. I was no catch these days. I wasn't ready to date. But I wondered if I'd just shut down an opportunity I'd regret later. What kind of a fool was I, anyway?

  "Sorry to hear that." He quickly added, "About the breakup." He broke into a slow, teasing expression very like Jamie's. "I forgot to tell you that it was Ashley who recognized the similarity between Connor and me in my unpolished state. She called me her Scottish diamond in the rough and polished me into a guy more like Connor/Jamie."

  "No!" I said, wide-eyed.

  He nodded. "Before that, I had no idea who Jamie was. Can you imagine?"

  His grin was damn charming.

  "You can imagine! It's all over your face." He seemed genuinely delighted. "I'm not some oddball guy who's just randomly into girlie stuff. No offense."

  "None taken," I said. It was cute the way he was defending his masculinity.

  He nodded. "Jamie is a show for women. No doubt about that. You saw the fans. Being generous with my estimate, there was one guy in every hundred fans." He laughed.

  "The guys and I have been into cosplay since college. So naturally, when I saw Connor and Sam were coming to Comicon, I decided to become the Sinclair. Ashley thought it was a great idea, though the guys had their doubts.

  "We go to Comicon every year. As I said earlier, we've been trying to win the popular vote prize for best costume for all of those years. The guys warned me that Jamie isn't in the mainstream of the Comicon crowd. And I'd be shooting my chances of winning this year right in the foot, no matter how authentic and impressive my costume was. No one in their right mind was going to vote for me."

  "Is that so?" I said, indignant on his behalf.

  He nodded. "But I wouldn't be talked out of it. My grandfather is Scottish. Hence my last name, MacDougall. The old man tortured me with Scottish lore when I was young. Even made me take bagpipe lessons, against the wish of my parents. Bullied them, and me, into it."

  "Do you still play? Were you, are you, any good?"

  He laughed. "I still have the lungs. But no, I was never much good. And not happy to take bagpipe lessons. I wanted to take guitar, like all the cool guys."

  I laughed. "I had years of piano lessons I was terrible at. I sympathize completely. You were saying?"

  "My grandfather is an old tyrant. But I thought this might make him proud. Or irritate him to the point of anger. I have no idea why either matter. But the result should be fun to watch.

  "Despite myself, he got his way and ingrained pride in my Scottish ancestry in me. He maintains we're descended from proud Scottish warriors, Highlanders who fought in the battle of Culloden. Who fought to keep the way of life until the British stamped it out. He has all kinds of stories he'll tell you if you give him the slightest opportunity."

  "That's…awesome," I said, envious of his sense of family and history.

  "I don't know if it's awesome or not. But I learned a lot from the old man. He immigrated from Scotland as a young man. Still has his brogue and can put it on thick when he chooses. More of Scottish pride and teachings stuck with me than I thought.

  "So when Ashley showed me this Jamie/Connor character who I supposedly looked like and who she was trying to make me over into—because the ladies would go crazy over me—of course I was for it." He winked again. "It makes her matchmaking job a lot easier. She has selfish motives. And doesn't take well to failing. She'll never give up on me."

  I couldn't help smiling.

  He shrugged. "So when she showed me Jamie, all that Scottish pride Granda had drilled into me welled up unexpectedly. I knew I could play this character with some accuracy. I had the training. It was the perfect role.

  "I ignored the guys' advice, which was probably sound. I watched every episode of Jamie. Binge-watched it so I could understand the character. Made the guys watch with me. When we go into a character, we go all in. We all help each other."

  "Like the four musketeers, are you?" I said, enthralled.

  "Pretty much. I studied the Sinclair's costumes so I could get mine just right. Even forced myself to read the books."

  "You've done all this, and you're not a native Jamie fan?" I was astonished. And yet somehow pleased. It really wasn't a manly show.

  He held a finger to his lips. "Don't tell Connor or Sam."

  "No. I won't." I liked Austin better and better.

  "Swear?"

  I nodded. "Did you make your costume yourself?"

  "Yeah. And next year I'm going to make a coat to go with it. In case I have to go out into the rain and help a lady in distress. So I have something to throw over a mud puddle besides baring myself by using my kilt."

  "You sewed everything?" I couldn't wrap my head around a guy who could sew and make a costume as good as one of Beth's. Even his white shirt was authentic.

  "Is it too geeky to admit?" He watched my reaction closely.

  "On the contrary," I said. "It's amazing. I fully appreciate the skill. I can barely thread a needle. And only manage it when I need to stitch a wound."

  His smile returned. "Remind me not to go to you if I ever need plastic surgery or for my wound to look pretty when it heals."

  I laughed again. "I'm in no danger of becoming a plastic surgeon, believe me."

  He took a bite of sandwich. We took a minute to enjoy our food.

  Finally, I said, "You sew. You go to a matchmaker. And you developed a dating app?"

  He nodded. "An app to find women, really. We developed it in conjunction with our friend Lazer's matchmaking venture, Pair Us. Cam, Dylan, Jeremy, and I are all partners with Lazer and Ashley.

  "I have a day job as a programmer. But the app's doing so well, I'm hoping to quit soon." He crumpled his sandwich wrapper. "So far, I've been doing all the talking. What about you? Tell me something about yourself."

  I crumpled my wrapper, too. "There's not much interesting to tell. I'm a physician. I work at a cancer care clinic, one of the best in the country. But let's not talk about that. I'm trying to have a day off."

  He nodded.

  "However, unlike some I could name, I'm a true Jamie fan. I read all the books long before the show came out. My Aunt Beth got me started on them when I was a teenager." I took a deep breath to steady myself. Sometimes talking about it still brought tears to my eyes.

  "So she's to blame," Austin said lightly.

  "No, my mom is really the one to thank."

  He frowned. "Aren't they one and the same?"

  "Not in this case." I took a deep breath. "My parents died when I was five. I don't remember much about them, really. Beth has spent my whole life trying to make my parents real for me. To give me something of them to hold on to.

  "When I was about fourteen, I asked her what my mom's favorite book was. I was sure I was old enough, and mature enough, to read it. That was my goal. Beth hesitated. But not long.

  "She gave me my mom's copy of Jamie, the first book in the series. It came out the same year my parents died. It instantly became my mom's favorite. As you know, it ends on a cliffhanger. Mom couldn't wait to find out what happened. Beth says she talked about that book all the time, making guesses about what would happen to Jamie and Elinor." My voice went flat. "She didn't live long enough to find out. She died before the second book came out.

  "So Beth read them all for her as they came out over the years. And gave me that copy of Jamie, which was as precious to Beth as almost anything. She and my mom were close. Some said inseparable when they were young. My mom had dog-eared her favorite passages of the book. Beth said, at first, she could even smell Mom's perfume on it. Though that's faded now.

  "The copy is staine
d with Beth's tears. She read it right after Mom died. She said it helped her through that time. So she gave it to me, even though it wasn't strictly suitable for a fourteen-year-old. Sorry." I reached for my napkin to wipe my eyes.

  Austin reached across the table, took my hand, and squeezed it. "No. That's beautiful of your aunt."

  I was glad he didn't press or offer platitudes. I nodded and sniffed. "That's part of the reason Beth and I are such big fans. Jamie means something to us." I looked at him through my tears. "But don't tell Connor and Sam."

  "It's your story to tell, not mine. Your secret's safe with me." He gave my hand a little shake. "You okay?"

  I nodded, grateful to him for understanding. "Let's go see the show floor. I have to buy Beth that souvenir."

  "Sure." Austin's phone buzzed. He glanced at it and frowned. "Can you hold on a minute? I have some business to take care of. I need to make a quick call. It will only take a few minutes."

  I nodded. "Take your time."

  He nodded back. "I'll go out in the hall where it's quieter. Back in a minute."

  Chapter 8

  Austin

  The text was just a ruse. One of those texts offering a two-for-one special on sandwiches at my favorite BBQ joint. I stepped out into the hall and called Ashley, nervous someone would overhear or I'd run into someone I knew. Damn, this was a dating emergency.

  Ashley picked up immediately. "Austin! Hey, it's the celebrity himself! What are you doing calling me from Comicon? Is Stan Lee over already? And I have to know—what was it like being onstage with Connor Reid and Sam Roberts?"

  "Hey, matchmaker," I said as if I was a spy talking to his handler. "Wait. How do you know about me being onstage with Connor?"

  "I saw Connor's tweet. Your costume really came together beautifully. Last time I saw it, it was still rough. The final touches gave it the authenticity you were shooting for. Great job. You could be Jamie."

  "High praise indeed," I said in the brogue, keeping my voice low. I was showing off how much better I'd gotten at the accent. Connor's coaching had paid off. "I knew Connor was tweeting. He's a big tweeter. I didn't know you followed him."

  "Of course I follow him! I'm a huge fan," she said. "But even if I didn't, I'd know and have seen those pictures. He has almost half a million followers. His Jet City Comicon tweets are trending on Twitter. And everywhere. That selfie of all of you and the audience has gone viral."

  A couple of women walked by and studied me, whispering to each other behind their hands. Damn. It looked like our anonymity was going to be short-lived. I was a big redhead. Like Jamie, I was hard to miss, especially dressed like him.

  "How does it feel to be famous?" Ashley said in her teasing tone.

  "I'm not famous."

  "Okay. Whatever you say. But it would be a shame to squander your fifteen minutes in the spotlight. That's all I'm saying. Back to safe ground—did you see Stan Lee?"

  "I saw Stan Lee. Shook his hand. Got his autograph. Thanks to Connor. Another thing checked off the bucket list. I'll tell you all about it, and Connor, later. I'm sure you're full of questions about him. Right now I just have a few minutes. I need advice."

  My mouth was dry. I was nervous as hell. I swallowed hard. "I met someone."

  "You met someone? You mean someone besides Stan Lee or another one of the Comicon celebrities you guys like to stalk. Someone besides Connor and Sam?

  "You looked very convincing posing with Sam, by the way. We're talking met someone as in a woman, right?" Her surprise was evident. The little devil loved to tease me.

  "Yes, a woman. Not just a woman. I met my Elinor." Ashley should understand that analogy.

  "You met a woman named Elinor?"

  "No. My Elinor."

  That gave Ashley pause. For once she was speechless.

  "Still there?" I said, glancing around nervously.

  "What do you mean, your Elinor? As in your perfect match? Elinor to your Jamie?"

  "Oh, aye." I put the accent on thickly. "She's even wearing the red dress."

  "You're serious?" She paused. "Wait a minute! Are talking about the woman in the pictures with you and Sam? The woman cosplaying Elinor?"

  "Yes. That Elinor."

  "Wow. Fate really is a bitch," she muttered just loud enough for me to hear. "She's a knockout like Sam."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" I said. "You don't think I have a chance with her?"

  "Don't get insecure on me, Austin. I didn't say that. Don't sell yourself short." She paused as if trying to digest all this new information. "And you like her?"

  "Didn't I just say that?"

  "Sounds like you two have a lot in common already, what with the cosplaying and obvious love of Jamie," Ashley said. "But let's not jump the gun and move too quickly—"

  "Ashley, look, I know you think I'm crazy. But this woman is single. And the boy sharks are already circling her. In that dress she attracts a lot of attention, as you can imagine."

  I hesitated and tripped over my words. "I've never felt this way about a woman. Especially not after just meeting her. I feel like I've known her forever. Like this is meant to be.

  "I'll give you the full story later. Right now she's waiting for me to come back from making an important 'business' call that I made up so I could step away and call you. I can't talk long. I need help."

  "Sure," Ashley said, still sounding shocked and maybe a touch amused. "We'll talk details later. Sounds like you're doing fine on your own. What's the problem?"

  I took a deep breath. "When I felt around to see if she's single, she told me she's just ended a long-term relationship. She so much as told me she isn't interested in dating just yet. But I think we have chemistry. I know we do. Am I being a fool for hoping? For pursuing her? I can't let her go. What should I do?"

  "I see," Ashley said as if she was analyzing the situation. "Well, the long-term comment could be a brush-off. A way to let you down gently. Without talking to her, I can't say for sure. Let's assume, for the moment, she's being honest. You want to keep things going to see if she'll change her mind and be there when she's ready, is that what I'm hearing?"

  "Yes." I glanced at Blair through the glass walls of the restaurant.

  She sat with her head down, texting someone. She was breathtaking. She looked up suddenly. Saw me out in the hall through the open door of the sub shop and gave me a little wave.

  I waved back and turned my back to her, afraid she could read lips.

  "You're taking your chances, Austin. As your friend and matchmaker, I have to warn you," Ashley said. "But if you're determined, then you need to remember that in dating, patience is a virtue. Take your time. Don't rush things with her. If you do, you risk sabotaging your chances for this to turn into a meaningful connection eventually.

  "Approach this new opportunity with her as the journey to finding a meaningful long-term relationship. But realize that it may never turn into a romantic relationship. In situations like these, you run the risk of her friend-zoning you. The timing may just be off."

  "Yeah." I knew that.

  "Mitigate those risks as much as possible by avoiding any talk of exes—yours, and particularly hers. You don't want to be that shoulder she cries on and shares intimate details of her previous relationship with. So much so that she's embarrassed about it later and severs her ties with you.

  "You want to keep the option open for her to think of you romantically later. Just be forewarned that each heart heals at a different pace. Believe me, I know firsthand."

  Ashley had been widowed young and only recently fallen in love with Lazer.

  "It could take years," she said softly.

  "Understood. I'm willing to give her a little more time than a single day," I said.

  "Okay, then," Ashley said. "Treat her gently. Make her laugh. Be yourself. That's the best advice I can give. Be yourself.

  "You're great when you're just being you. Funny. Charming. Intelligent. Thoughtful. All the things women love." She paus
ed. "Good luck. Call me when you get home and we can do a postmortem and strategize. By then we'll have a clearer picture of what we're dealing with."

  "You can't fool me. You're dying to hear all the details of my adventures with Connor," I said, lightening the mood.

  "You caught me!" She laughed. "Do I need to send Lazer in to wingman for you?"

  "Hell no!" I said. "I've already got Connor to compete with. I don't need a billionaire around. Not that anyone could turn Lazer's head away from you."

  She laughed again. "All right, then. Go win your Elinor's heart. And enjoy Comicon!"

  "Will do."

  "Austin?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Snap a selfie of the two of you and text it to me."

  I laughed. "Nosy."

  "Not nosy. Your matchmaker. I'm an expert at reading relationship body posture. A picture could be worth a thousand words here."

  Blair

  Austin paused at the entrance to the show floor, which other conventions would call the exhibition hall or trade show. "Here we are, my lady. Let the Comicon shopping experience begin. I'm at your service."

  I surveyed the room. The show floor was crowded with people and booths of all kinds. It was complete chaos.

  Austin pulled his phone out from his kilt pocket to check a text. He typed a quick response. "The guys. Just letting them know where I am."

  I nodded. I liked that he had a fun group of friends. It said something about him.

  Austin turned to me with a devious look. "Want to see how our app works?" He nodded toward the crowd. "I can check it and see how many people here are using it. How many single men there are. And how many single women. How many Comiconners are looking to meet someone."

  "I'd love to."

  He showed me his phone, pointed to the app, and walked me briefly through how to use it. He hit one of the tabs and up popped a graphic showing how many single men had allowed it to show they were here. "Good pickings," he said in his Scottish accent as he showed me the number.

  "Impressive," I said.

  "Now, how many available women." He tapped another icon. A number and pink graphic popped up. "Oh. Poor guys. Not many women. The competition here for guys trying to catch a lady's eye is fierce." He shook his head. "Don't worry. I'm here to protect you and fend off any undesired attention."