She went to say no. He could even see her lips forming the N.
And he cursed himself for having no patience as he closed that distance between them back up. “Do you really just want to go back home? Stay locked inside Ferry the rest of the day?”
Neve narrowed her eyes.
And then, to his utter shock, she made a face. “Well, maybe I could use some lunch.”
* * *
“This place has always had the best burgers.”
Ian studied her over the massive sandwich she held, reaching out to steal one of her onion rings. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Oh?” She wiped her mouth with the napkin and leaned back, the warm summer sunshine beating down on her back. They could have sat under the awning but it was crowded at the diner and Ian had asked if she’d mind taking one of the tables farther out.
“Yes.” He crunched down on the onion ring and winked at her. “Here I was thinking that the best burgers were at my place.”
“Nope.” She shook her head. It hit her then, how relaxed she felt, how easy it was to sit there and be with him. “But you’ve got the best fish and chips.”
“Nice to know I’m doing that much right,” he said wryly. His lips curved in a smile.
At the sight of it, Neve found herself thinking about that night. When he’d kissed her, the feel of his beard, the way his hands had glided over her skin, rough in all the best ways.
A rough sigh came from the man across the table and Neve flicked her eyes up to his.
The heat there devastated her.
Neve lowered her eyes back to the table.
Since she wasn’t looking at him, she wasn’t prepared when his fingers brushed over the back of her hand. Such a simple touch. How could it possible affect her like this?
“The look on your face is going to undo me.”
She swallowed and dragged her eyes back up to his.
“I want to touch you.”
“You are.” She managed to smile at him although it was strained. She didn’t want to smile. She wanted to climb across the table and get in his lap, cuddle up, and rub against him like a cat. Then she wanted to curl around him and feel him inside her.
Sex hadn’t ever felt so necessary, so vital.
She needed him.
“Neve. I already need a few minutes before I can stand without making a spectacle of myself. Either stop looking at me or we’ll be sitting here for an age.”
She laughed nervously. “What else am I supposed to look at?”
“Well.” He blew out a breath and tipped his head back, staring up at the sky that stretched out over them like a bright blue bowl. “I can’t really say. Because even if you’re not looking at me, I’m looking at you. I need to think about something boring. Be boring, will you, Neve?”
“Be boring?” She pressed her lips together to stifle a laugh. “Just how am I supposed to do that?”
“I don’t know.” He glanced back at her, the thick fringe of his lashes shielding his eyes. “I can hear the smile in your voice and even that makes me want to kiss you.”
Something giddy and warm unfurled inside her and she found herself overcome by the need to move closer to him. To curl up in his lap and wrap her arms around him. Kiss him, maybe. Or just hold him.
Her voice was breathless when she asked him, “Should I just stop talking?”
* * *
She’d have to stop breathing before he thought he could handle being this close and not wanting her. No. He would have to stop breathing.
As she continued to watch him, the remnants of her laughter still gleaming in her eyes, Ian felt his heart do a slow roll in his chest. He’d been an idiot. Thinking that he could actually not give into the emotions twisting through him when he looked at her, when he thought about her.
He’d never been one to believe in love at first sight—had never even wanted to look for love himself.
Mum had been a single parent after the sad, pathetic bastard who’d fathered him took off when he’d learned he’d be a father. After she’d died, he’d spent the last few years before university with his grandparents and hadn’t they been a shining example of love? The old man had beat his grandmother, and often.
Love, in Ian’s opinion, wasn’t something to be sought. It was a pain in the backside.
Yet sitting there with Neve, he couldn’t deny the odd way his heart ached, or the fact that each morning, he woke up thinking about her. They barely knew each other, true, but some part of him felt like he’d known her for always—that he’d been waiting for her for always.
“Talk,” he said softly. “Talk with me, laugh with me.”
The humor in her eyes faded away, replaced by an emotion that made his chest ache.
Leaning forward, he caught her fingers and lifted them to his lips, kissing the tips. “What are you doing to me, Neve McKay?”
Her tongue slid out and she wet her lips. Easing closer, he reached up and traced the lower curve of her mouth with his thumb.
Her lashes fluttered down low and he had to fight the urge to replace his thumb with his mouth.
This wasn’t the place.
And despite the fact that he wanted her like he wanted his next breath, he didn’t want to rush this.
Couldn’t rush it—he had a feeling this could be the most important thing in his life and he had to be patient.
Because he was aware if this continued, he’d end up in the exact same position he’d described to her, he steered the conversation into what he hoped was fairly neutral territory—he asked about her time in Scotland.
They finished up their meal as she told him about Carrbridge and he smiled when she mentioned the quaint bridge, but as they started to walk down the street that led to the river, his mood turned grim.
“Aviemore?” he murmured. “Aye. I know it.”
“Been there?”
He shrugged. “I lived there for a few years.”
“Did you?” Her head swung toward his, eyes curious.
He wanted to shrug it off, but after all she’d shared, how could he say nothing.
Spotting a bench, he sat, tugging her down to sit with him.
Somebody jogged by and he studied them for a moment and then looked back at Neve. “Some of you are mad, running in this heat.”
She lifted a brow. “It gets a lot worse here.”
Ian rolled his eyes. Then, leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his knees. Gaze locked on the lazy waters of the Mississippi, he said, “We lived in Braemar. Me and my mum. Beautiful village, up in the Cairngorms. So cold at times, you’d think your lungs would freeze right through, but you’ve never seen a place so lovely. Then Mum died when I was thirteen. Cancer. It happened fast. I had to go live with her parents in Aviemore. My gran … she was a kind lady. But scared. If my grandfather wasn’t there, things weren’t so bad, see? She liked to fuss over me and we’d play cards and talk, or she’d read and I’d watch the telly. But once it was time for him to be getting on home, well, things would change. He was a bastard, that one. A cruel one, too. If the meal wasn’t on the table by five, then Gran would catch the wrong side of his fist. Only happened twice and once was because she had to take me to see the doctor. I’d fallen, broken my arm. Not that he cared.” He shrugged, staring off into the distance, but it wasn’t the grass or the lazy waters of the river he saw. It was his gran’s face. “He was a drunk, too. A mean one. If she didn’t move fast enough or if she did, he’d take it out on her. As I got older, I’d pick a fight with him just to spare her, but she hated that. I hated him. The day before I turned eighteen, I came home and found…” He sucked in his breath and stared up at the sky through the branches overhead. “She’d left a letter. Saying she loved me, truly. But now that I was a man, I didn’t need her and she couldn’t do it anymore. She was on her bed, like she was just sleeping. And she was smiling.”
“Ian…”
When she touched his arm, he caught her hand. Turning his head, he met her g
aze. “I knew somebody had hurt you. Not that first night, perhaps, but definitely the next day when you came back to the pub. I knew it. Something about the way your eyes looked. You had the same fear in your eyes. I want to break him, Neve.”
She went to look away but he stopped her, reaching up to lay a hand on her cheek.
“Don’t look away,” he murmured.
Her throat worked as she swallowed and he rubbed a thumb over her lower lip.
“When I close my eyes, I remember how you taste.”
A soft breath escaped her.
Her eyes met his and when he leaned in, she didn’t pull away.
“But even though I remember your taste, I need more.”
* * *
Then stop talking and kiss me!
Neve wished she had the nerve to tell him that. Instead, she reached up and pressed her fingertips to his lower lip. His mouth was so much softer than it appeared, his beard scratchy soft against her palm.
Curious, she stroked her fingers across it, then up to rest on his cheek, echoing the way he touched her.
When he slid his hand around to hook over the back of her neck, she didn’t even think of pulling away.
But he didn’t draw her closer, either.
Groaning in frustration, she moved in. She didn’t have a chance to process the widening of the smile on his lips. Nor did she care, because in the next breath, that mouth was on hers and heat, hunger, need swamped her.
She’d never known anything like this.
His tongue slid along her lower lip, teasing and stroked and taunted, before slipping inside. She caught the tip and bit down, felt him shake.
He pulled her onto his lap and she tensed for a moment, but just a moment, then curled into him. He curved one arm around her lower back, the other rested on her legs. Twisting her upper body, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Ian growled deep in his throat.
Neve plunged her hands into his hair and wiggled, struggling to get closer.
His teeth nipped her lower lip.
She bit his tongue.
A siren wailed.
She jumped.
She would have leaped off his lap if he hadn’t tightened his arms.
“Damn Marshall,” he muttered.
Blood rushed to her face as she dared to glance over her shoulder. Gideon was eyeing them from the street and if she wasn’t mistaken, there was an amused look on his face.
Cringing in embarrassment, she pressed her face against Ian’s neck.
“Oh, right, just sit there and smile at me, you sodding prick,” Ian said.
A laugh escaped her.
Ian stroked a hand up her back. “I expect you think we should thank him.”
“Thank him?”
She dared to lift her head, meeting his eyes. But she didn’t look anywhere else. Gideon’s car was still there. She could hear the motor.
“Well, yeah. If he hadn’t shown up, I might now be trying to get you naked.” He slid one hand to her waist and slid it up. “I can’t say I’ve ever wanted to have public sex, but you tempt me. Not to have public sex, mind you, but just to have sex—with you—here. Screw that it’s public.”
She snorted, the strangled laugh that escaped her both nervous and embarrassed. “Sure. I’ll thank him. As soon as I think I can look at him without wanting to hide.”
Ian pressed his cheek to hers and she felt his beard rub against her, a soft caress. “Don’t be wanting to hide, Neve. You think I’m embarrassed because you want me? I’d be tempted to brag about it, but my mum taught me better.”
The slow, soothing stroke of his hand up and down her back helped drain the tension and after a moment, she looked up. “I don’t see how this can be real,” she said softly, meeting his dark, warm eyes. “How can I feel like this with you? I don’t even know you.”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes.” There was no question about that. None at all.
“Sometimes people just fit, Neve.” He pressed a soft kiss to her brow and then settled her back on the bench.
She could still feel Gideon there, making a show of not watching them as he sat in his car. But he was very aware of them, and now she couldn’t help but be aware of him, too. Ian moved a few feet away, his hands in his back pockets as he stared out over the river. “I think we could maybe be a fit,” he said. “I think we are a fit, Neve. We’ll just … give it time.”
“Okay.” She licked her lips and almost shuddered as she caught the taste of him there. “I think I can handle that.”
He turned back to her, his eyes gleaming. “Right, then. Have lunch with me.”
“But we just had lunch.”
“Well, that’s the thing about lunch, darling Neve.” Holding her gaze with his, he strolled back to her and hunkered down on his knees. “You eat it every day. Just like breakfast and dinner.”
As he waited for her answer, he took her hand and nibbled at her knuckles. “Well,” she said, sort of breathless. “If you’re not already tired of me…”
“I could see you every day for a thousand years and not be tired of you.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Unless the building is on fire”—Ian took a moment to check the air—“and it isn’t, then leave me alone for a night, would ya, Morgan?”
She laughed. “No. The building isn’t on fire. “But, boss, you want to come down anyway.”
“No. I don’t.” Ian was sprawled comfortably in front of the telly, watching Doctor Who and munching on popcorn. He had a blissful, wonderful day away from the pub. Workaholic that he was—and he was fine with it—he only had a day and a half off each week. Brannon had told him he ought to take the weekends off, seeing as how he managed the place and would probably own it outright in a few years, but Ian liked working. He was happy with it. But he also enjoyed the one day a week he was off. Or the one day he was supposed to be off. He rarely managed to go that one day without being called in to handle some such mess or another. But today, he’d made it all the way until eight in the evening. He’d damn well avoid—
“Fine.” Morgan sighed theatrically before she added, “I’ll just let Neve McKay sit at the bar by her lonesome then. Although it looks like Griffin—”
He shot up off the couch and didn’t even think to disconnect the call until he heard Morgan’s laughter when he was in the bathroom, a minute later, hurriedly straightening his hair.
It was less than ten minutes before he was locking up his flat and less than twelve before he was striding into the pub, through the front door this time. After all, it was his day off, wasn’t it?
And there she was, sitting at the bar, giving Griffin Parker a smile. Griffin, daft idiot that he was, likely couldn’t tell that it was a half-hearted attempt at best. When Ian moved closer, Neve glanced up and the smile changed, bloomed into the one he knew was a real one and it lit him up inside, made him feel like he could climb mountains and jump over skyscrapers.
Griffin glanced over, following her gaze, and spotted him.
Ian saw the way the other man sort of rolled his eyes and then he gave a good-natured grimace.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked.
Griffin glanced down at his mostly eaten meal and then said, “How about you just take my seat? Bar’s crowded. I’m about done.”
A moment later, as Morgan cleared away Griffin’s plate, Ian snuck a chip from Neve’s plate. “Trying out my fish and chips, are you?”
“Well, somebody told me they were the best in town.” That shy, nervous sort of smile curled her lips.
“You should have called me, told me you were coming in. I’d have met you here.”
One smooth shoulder, bared by a skinny-strapped top, lifted. His mouth watered as he thought about pressing his lips to that elegant slope. “It was a last-minute sort of thing. You always seem to be here anyway…” Even as the words left her lips, she started to blush.
Ian could have pounded his bloody chest, he was so delighted. “So…�
�� He leaned in, one arm draped over the back of her seat. “Coming to see me, were you?”
* * *
That mouth of his was so damned beautiful, it all but made her forget her name. Right now, it was curled in a pleased grin and she was torn between blushing and laughing. Turning her attention to her plate, she grabbed a fry and popped it into her mouth. She washed it down with her watered-down Coke. In a deliberately lofty voice, she said, “I’ll have you know, I wanted some food. Ella Sue is so determined to fatten me up, but she’s hovering and it’s driving me crazy. She was making pot roast and I was more in the mood for fish and chips.”
“And you weren’t even thinking of seeing me, not at all?” he murmured.
She swallowed. Turning her head, she met his eyes. He’d moved in so close, all she’d have to do was lean in the smallest bit and her mouth would touch his.
“Not at all?”
A smile trembled on her lips. “Well, seeing you is a bonus.”
“You wound me, Neve.”
Laughing, she turned back to her food. “With your ego, Ian, I think it would take a great deal more than that to wound you.” Keeping her voice deliberately casual, she asked, “So I guess it’s your day off, huh?”
“Yes.” He stole another fry and she smacked his hand. “Oi!”
“Order your own.”
“Will you keep me company if I do?” He gave a heavy sigh as he studied her half-empty plate. “I hate to eat alone, love. I truly do.”
“I’m sure.” Then, because she had come to see him and they both knew it, she said, “I guess I can hang around a while.”
“You’re too kind to me.”
* * *
“Spiders.”
Neve slid him a look. “Seriously?”
“On my honor.” Ian placed a hand on his chest as though swearing an oath. “And I blame J. K. Rowling. It’s all her fault—and Hagrid’s. That damn giant spider of his. I never liked them much, especially after reading The Lord of the Rings, but then I read about the monster he raised as a pet and…”
Ian shuddered dramatically.
Neve laughed. This crazy game he’d started—what about … what are you … was revealing all sorts of unusual things. He hated chocolate, he secretly loved Celine Dion—and country music—and although he forbade her from telling, he shuddered every time Ella Sue poured him a glass of her sweet tea.
Headed for Trouble (The McKay Family #1) Page 20