The Perfect Bargain
Page 18
“I want you to stay,” Galen said. “I want to know if there is more between us than free wifi. I want to know if we could make a life together. So I’m asking…will you stay?”
That prompted a big awwww from the people standing close enough to hear them.
This man was too much. “It’s a good thing you look hot in a kilt.” She eased her hands from his and swept them up his strong arms, latching her hands behind his neck and pulling him into her body. “While it is true I would trade a kidney for a decent cup of coffee in this town, I’ve seen the most wonderful things here. Gairloch is the most beautiful place in the world, you know? I can’t imagine never walking into these rolling hills again, or feeling the sun bounce off the water and onto my skin. I can’t imagine never seeing the friends I’ve made here. You know what? I love this town almost as much as I love you, and I know I can survive anything as long as I have you to wake up to every morning.”
Galen’s chest rose with his deep breath. “Sloane,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.
“Kiss her, lad!” someone shouted.
He stared down at her, his eyes roaming her face. Sloane began to weave a little, the emotional stress of the week finally catching up with her. Joy was filling her up, pushing out her anxiety. She wanted to bask in the moment and closed her eyes.
“Jesus, Sloane, answer him!” Dylan said frantically.
Galen’s grip on her tightened, and Sloane opened her eyes.
“I donna know how you did it,” he said, so softly that only she could hear him. “But you’ve made a difference in my life. I never realized how lonely I was until you nosed into my pub. I’ve tried to let it go, God knows I have. It’s crazy, aye, but I donna care. I couldna let you go now if I tried.”
Sloane grinned. “So…basically what you’re saying is that I was right?”
He laughed and kissed her cheek as the crowd began to applaud. “Aye, you were right. You were so bloody right.”
Sloane melted into his arms. “Then I’ll stay.”
Exuberance and the roller coaster of emotions the events had brought sank into her, rooting her there. This man, and this village that surrounded her, made it inconceivable to believe she could ever live anywhere else.
Galen’s hold on her tightened. He kissed her neck. “You owe me three thousand pounds,” he murmured into her ear.
“How so?” she managed to ask before he kissed her.
“Two thousand for the pretending,” he said, kissing her again. “At least five hundred for kissing, and that’s a bargain. And at least five hundred pounds for making you scream.”
She laughed. “I think you better start a tab.”
“For fuck’s sake, if ye’re gonna stand there all night like two randy sheep, then at least let’s have music,” Owen said.
The band began to play. The crowd was cheering them, and Sloane could hear the clink of mugs as Galen kissed her so thoroughly it was a wonder she didn’t float up with him into the clouds.
Epilogue
Two months later
Sloane walked down from Galen’s house with Molly, her constant companion now, at her side. She had a new hat with a floppy brim. She was walking so much that she’d gotten a little too much sun. She was humming as she strolled along…until she saw the fence. There was a hole in it. “No!” she exclaimed and looked wildly around her. There they were, the fat culprits, waddling off down the hill, their butts a rainbow of blues and pinks.
Stupid sheep.
It had taken Sloane two weeks to build that fence. She marched through the hole and into the Black Thistle.
The scent of strong coffee and pastries met her at the door. There were a handful of people that morning, scattered around the tables with their laptops, bent over the mugs of brewed coffee. Maread was there, too, having delivered the bakery’s goods for the day.
“Hello, Maread,” Sloane said, and smiled.
“Hallo,” Maread said without looking at her and brushed past on her way out. Sloane doubted the woman would ever forgive her for winning Galen’s heart.
She tossed her hat onto a pile of newspapers before going behind the bar. Galen appeared, drying a mug just like the first time she’d seen him. “Hello, hen,” he said with a wink.
She tilted her head up to receive his kiss, then said, “There is a hole in my fence.”
“No.”
“Yes. Beattie’s stupid sheep.”
“I told you it wasna a good idea. Fences require maintenance.”
“Your fences do. Will you finally admit that a rail fence is the way to go?”
“We’re no’ in Iowa, love. And besides, what do you need a fence for? You told me you were knocking down boundaries as you came to them.”
Sloane’s skin flushed, and she glanced furtively at the patrons. “That was supposed to remain between you and me,” she said, poking him in the chest.
He grinned at her. “The plumber came today.”
Sloane gasped with delight. Slowly but surely they were making changes to the pub. Gone were the pictures of bagpipes, and in their place, art from some of the local residents. The blinds had been dusted and the tables sported little vases of flowers that came from Mrs. Buchanan’s garden. Sloane was responsible for those changes. She wanted to do more, but Galen was paying Lazlo to come for the growing lunch crowd, as well as his brother Lachlan, who traded shifts with Lazlo. “What did he say? Will we have a new bathroom?”
“We’ll at least have a new toilet. Happy now?”
“No. But I’m getting there.”
His hand slid down her back, to her hip. “Speaking of boundaries…” He motioned to the little office and escorted her inside. He shut the door and locked it, then turned and surprised her by hoisting her up on the desk.
“What are you doing?” she asked, laughing.
“You want to try new things, aye?”
“Aye,” she said, mimicking him. “It’s a new me.”
“You seem the same to me, but I thought today we’d attempt a bit of office sex.”
“Now?”
“Would you rather wait ’til the lunch hour?” he asked, nipping at her lips.
“No, are you kidding? I have my heart set on a lunchtime chocolate éclair. They’re to die for.”
Galen chuckled. “I love you, lass.”
“I love you more,” she said and smoothed his hair from his face.
He braced his hands on either side of her and leaned closer, touching his lips to the corner of her mouth. “Do you miss Chicago?”
Sloane looked down at her attire. The deep V-neck T-shirt, the jeans, and her favorite walking shoes. “Not a moment.” She glanced up. “Even less if you’d wear your kilt once in a while.”
“I told you,” he said as he kissed her again, “only wallies wear kilts outside of weddings and funerals.”
“Walleye, tuna, whatever. Your legs are so hot in a kilt.”
He lifted his head. “Tuna and what?”
“Walleyes,” she repeated. “It’s a fish, right?”
Galen blinked. And he then dropped his head on hers as laughter shook his body. “Bloody hell, what am I to do with you?” he asked gleefully. “No’ a bloody fish, Sloane. A wally—a fool.”
“Is that what it means,” she said curiously. “Well, then I suppose it fits. You admitted you’re a fool for me in front of the entire village, Wally. So you should have no problem wearing a kilt once in a while.” She grinned.
He groaned, but a slow smile began to tilt the corners of his lips. “We’ll start small, aye? I might wear it tonight…”
“Ooh,” she said. “Such a turn on. Will you do that thing with your tongue again?” she asked, and closed her eyes, tilting her head to one side to give him better access to her neck.
“Aye,” he growled, and Sloane sighed with contentment as she wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed her own personal Jamie Fraser to have his way with her.
Don’t miss Dylan’s story…coming Septem
ber 2015! Sign up here to get notices about this and other exciting new releases from Entangled!
About the Author
Jessa McAdams (also known as Julia London) is the New York Times, USA Today, and Publisher’s Weekly best-selling author of more than forty romantic fiction novels. She is the author of the popular Cabot Sisters historical romance series, including The Trouble With Honor, The Devil Takes a Bride, and The Scoundrel and the Debutante, as well as the Homecoming Ranch contemporary series, including Homecoming Ranch, Return to Homecoming Ranch, and The Perfect Homecoming. Julia is the recipient of the RT Bookclub Award for Best Historical Romance and a four time finalist for the prestigious RITA award for excellence in romantic fiction.
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