Hot for the Scot

by Janice Maynard

  “Trust me,” I said, laughing, “I wouldn’t know how to be seductive.”

  Angus scooped me up against him and kissed me, this time carefully…lazily. I tried to analyze the emotions swirling through my veins. But for once, maybe I would abandon my inclination to analyze everything to death. I was here. Angus was here. I could try letting nature take its course.

  At last, he set me down. I felt bereft already. He made everyday life more exciting. I liked him, and if I wasn’t very careful, I might even tumble into love with him.

  The thought of that was enough to make me back away, both physically and mentally. “I should go to bed,” I said.

  He nodded. Shoving his hands in his back pockets, he leaned against the wall. “Ye mean something to me, Hayley. I don’t quite understand it, but it’s real.”

  I nodded. “Some people believe that if you save a person’s life you have a special connection that lasts forever.”

  “But we don’t have forever, do we?” His gaze was troubled.

  “No.” It comforted me to see his agitation and confusion. At least I wasn’t the only one with questions. Angus was struggling also. I knew I should leave the room. The longer I stayed, and the later the hour, the lower my defenses.

  If I were going to share his bed, I wanted our first time to be spectacular. I tended to romanticize relationships. I knew that. But given my history with Angus thus far, I could be forgiven for thinking that what we had was special.

  He cleared his throat. “I’ve been with too many women over the years, Hayley. When I started playing professional football, I was a naïve kid with too much money and too little sense. I’ve been careful physically—always a condom and never an unwanted pregnancy. So believe me when I say it would be easy to take you here and now, standing up, or over the table or any other position that inspires you. But I’m older and wiser now.”

  “Meaning?”

  He closed the distance between us and cupped my face in his hands. “I want you so much it’s eating me alive,” he said. His thumbs caressed my cheekbones. “There’s more to life, though, than a quick lay and an embarrassing morning after. Women are magical creatures, you in particular. We’ll take our time, Hayley, and savor the anticipation.”

  “And when we finally get together?” I was breathless, trembling.

  His slow smile melted the last of my reservations. “It will be everything we both want.”

  I fled. There was no other word for it. Back in my lovely room, I closed the door quietly—so as not to bother the two women who slept nearby—and I threw myself facedown on the bed. I barely even knew myself anymore. I was not a dewy-eyed young girl. I’d fielded my share of heartbreak over the years. I understood that life comes with no guarantees and that people often disappoint you.

  Then why did Angus Munro match up to every fantasy I’d ever had of a handsome, honorable knight in shining armor? I might have been a bit brainwashed by my obsession with Outlander. Jamie Fraser, a creation of pen and paper, loomed large in my imagination.

  Was I imbuing Angus with characteristics that no flesh and blood man could live up to? Was I setting myself up for a nasty fall? Was my so far G-rated relationship with my sexy Scottish rescuer destined to crash and burn?

  I rolled to my back, and, seeing the clock on the wall, suddenly realized it was time to check in with my lifelines. As soon as I switched on my phone, two texts popped up, one from Willow, Are you okay? and one from McKenzie, Do I need to come rescue you? I should have known they would see the news of the terrible flooding in Drumnadrochit and be concerned about me.

  I answered them both with the same message: I’m fine. Helping with cleanup. All is well here. Love you bunches!

  Badly, I wanted to tell my two best friends about everything that had happened to me so far. What would they think of the situation with Angus? I had neither anticipated nor understood how hard it was going to be to cut myself off from the people who supported me in my daily life.

  Like a pioneer traveling through a trackless wilderness, I had no map for the journey that unfolded before me. I was making decisions day-by-day, sometimes hour-to-hour. I felt alive, apprehensive, and excited all in the same breath.

  Reluctantly, I put away the phone.

  The following morning I awoke feeling refreshed and enthusiastic. Angus, on the other hand, grouched through breakfast like a bear with a sore paw. Maybe sexual frustration had kept him awake.

  That thought shouldn’t have pleased me, but it did. I’d never really experienced the phenomenon of feminine power. It was heady stuff.

  Though I was dressed very practically in clothes that wouldn’t be much of a loss if they got torn or stained, I had taken pains with my hair. My deep red curls were probably my best feature. Later in the day I would tie it all back in a ponytail if necessary, but at least I started off the day looking fresh. After finishing his meal, Angus shot me one dark look, grabbed a cup of coffee, and disappeared back in the direction of his bedroom.

  Annis and Màiri were animated and upbeat. After a good night’s rest, combined with the perspective of how much worse things could have been, they were eager to get back to their homes and tackle the task at hand. As we headed outside, I whispered to Angus’s mother that she should ride up front.

  A raised eyebrow and a smile were my only answer, but she agreed without protest. I didn’t realize my error in judgment until I climbed into the backseat and suddenly had to avoid meeting Angus’s gaze in the rearview mirror.

  The town council, or whatever the equivalent was in rural Scotland, had been hard at work already. Large Dumpsters had been delivered to helpful locations at the end of every street. Angus dropped Annis and me off first. We were well provisioned with bottled water, snacks, work gloves, and various tools.

  Angus rolled down his window when I attempted to escape without speaking to him. “I’ll check on you both in a few hours. But you know where to find me.” His expression softened. “Don’t do anything foolhardy, Hayley. Pace yourself. This will take more than a day.”

  I nodded, feeling both shy and happy that things were moving in the right direction. “We’ll be fine,” I said. “Look after your mother. Don’t worry about us.”

  Those were brave words and ones I soon had cause to rethink. Perhaps yesterday had been too much of a shock, or maybe things had gotten worse overnight. Whatever the reason, when Annis opened her front door and we stepped inside, the enormity of the job facing us was daunting.

  We stood side by side, momentarily paralyzed by the question of where to start. I sensed that Annis was emotionally fragile, so I tried to take charge without usurping her authority as the homeowner. “Do you have a wheelbarrow?” I asked. “Or a wagon?”

  She nodded, her lips pursed. “Aye. A wee utility cart on wheels.”

  “That will work.” I forced a cheery smile. “Let’s begin with everything that has to be tossed out. Then later today we’ll tackle the wet rugs.”

  It was soggy, smelly, depressing work. Annis stopped again and again to bemoan the loss of a particular magazine or newspaper she had saved. There were issues from VE Day and VJ Day and the Queen’s coronation. Pages debating the vote for Scottish independence. A number of publications about John Cobb and the story of his doomed attempt to set a water speed record. Many more still from the wedding of Charles and Diana. And, of course, the tragic photos and stories documenting the days following Diana’s death.

  More recent editions chronicled her love for William and Harry, Kate and George and Charlotte. In her small, crowded home, Annis had preserved a historical record of life in Great Britain for the last six decades or more. It was then I realized she had to be much closer to ninety than I realized.

  No matter her strength of will, she was an old woman, and her energy soon flagged. I tucked her into her recliner with a pot of tea. “Take a rest,” I insisted. “I’ll keep working. We’ve seen good progress so far.”

  It wa
s true we had made inroads into a lifetime of hoarding. For me to call it “good” was Pollyannaish at best. At this rate, I’d have to return to the States and Annis would still be shoveling moldy issues of gossip magazines.

  I clung to my determination. Annis had taken me in and been very gracious to me from the very beginning. I owed it to her as a human being to do as much as I could. Muscles I rarely used protested the unaccustomed physical labor. Soon my back was aching and my nose twitched in response to the odor of rapidly mildewing paper.

  It was both a surprise and a pleasure when Angus came through the door just before noon. He spotted me immediately. “I’ve tapped some lads to help Mum,” he said. “Teenagers who want to earn a bit of extra cash. I’m here for you now.”

  The fact that his mere presence lightened my mood meant I was farther gone that I knew. I came perilously close to throwing myself into his arms. Instead, I cleared my throat. “I could use some lunch.”

  He stared at me as if trying to read my mind. “It’s right outside. I thought you might like some fresh air by now. We can sit on the tailgate.”

  I kept my cool. “What about Annis?”

  “I have a folding chair for her. Come on.”

  He’d brought fish and chips, fresh and hot and wonderful, plus bottles of water that had been iced down in a cooler. It was the absolute best meal I’d eaten since I left home. “What about your mother?” I asked belatedly.

  “She’s eating with one of her friends whose home wasn’t damaged.”

  “Ah.”

  The sun was shining. Activity bustled all around us. My elderly landlady sat only a few yards away outside the vehicle. But for a brief moment, Angus and I cozied up hip to hip on the tailgate of his SUV.

  He nudged my elbow. “Are you going to eat that last piece?”

  I grinned at him. “What’s it worth to you?”

  Narrowing his eyes, he curled a hand behind my neck and kissed me as he snatched the last of my lunch. “You have slow reflexes for a schoolteacher,” he drawled.

  I shrugged. “I could have stopped you if I tried. I’ve spent a decade corralling boys like you.”

  He finished the fish and wiped his mouth. “Boys?”

  “You’re all the same under the skin. Stubborn. Hard to handle. And downright contrary.”

  “Feel free to keep me after class and chastise me.”

  His voice was a combination of Scots music and the rough timbre of desire. “Angus!” I darted a look to the left and the right, but no one was paying us any attention. “You told me not to do anything seductive. What do you call that remark?”

  “I can’t help it, Hayley. I didn’t sleep worth a damn last night. I’ll never make it another six days.”

  “You have to,” I said desperately, pretty sure he was joking but not positive. “We have work to do.”

  He wet his thumb and rubbed it over my jaw. “Your face is dirty, lass.”

  I went perfectly still as a jolt of unadulterated hunger left me breathless. “I’m dirty all over.”

  I didn’t mean anything by that remark. It was true. I was sweaty, and my clothes were covered in muck. But Angus apparently took my statement as an invitation. “God in heaven, woman,” he growled. “Don’t say things like that when I can’t do any damn thing about it.”

  Chapter 18

  I hopped to the ground, stumbling when my foot slid on loose gravel. “I’m going back inside,” I said. No matter how many bottles of water I drank, my throat dried out whenever I got within sight of my big, ornery Scotsman.

  Not waiting to see if Angus would follow me, I darted back into the house. I suspected he would have to deal with Annis, so that should buy me some time to get hold of myself. I had never felt about a man the way I felt about Angus. I was not at all sure I liked it.

  Jumpy and breathless, I put on my work gloves and grabbed up yet another stack of wet magazines.

  “You can’t avoid me forever, Hayley.”

  I’d been concentrating on my task, so his deep voice startled me. “Quit sneaking around,” I said, sounding grumpy even to my own ears. “Where’s Annis?”

  “I sent her to the senior center to relax and check up on the local gossip.”

  “I’m surprised she agreed. It’s been all I could do to make her sit today while I do the heavy work.”

  “I can be persuasive when I try.”

  His arms came around me from behind. “That’s not funny,” I stuttered. “Don’t do that. I stink.”

  He nuzzled my neck, making gooseflesh break out all over my body. “A bloke isn’t apt to care too much whether a woman is daisy fresh. All we think about is getting you naked.”

  I leaned into him, my knees embarrassingly weak. “Well, I care.” It was a weak protest at best, because I did nothing to elude his embrace.

  He turned me to face him. “I’ll work,” he promised. “But first give me a kiss to hold me over.”

  “Does anyone ever say no to you?”

  It was a rhetorical question and one he didn’t bother to answer. Nipping at the shell of my ear, his hands came up to rest beneath my breasts. “Ye’re a bonny wee lass, Hayley from Georgia. I love how you throw yourself into everything you do with passion. And I’m partial to the way your nose tilts up at the end and the little dent in your chin. I can’t imagine what you’re going to be like in bed, but wondering about the two of us between the sheets is keeping me up at night.”

  “Up? Really?”

  He chuckled. “You know what I mean. I can’t seem to think about anything else.”

  I stared at him, trying to be logical about something that defied logic. This thing with Angus, whatever it was, had no place in my practical, carefully planned out life. The fact that I wasn’t concerned about that anomaly should have worried me more than it did.

  He had the face of a warrior, with strong features and a nose that had been broken at some point in the past, maybe more than once. “I don’t have much experience,” I said, my voice flat. “I come from a sheltered, church-going family. Never even had a serious boyfriend until my senior year in college. There’s only been one other besides him, and it ended badly.”

  His gaze softened. “We don’t need to compare notes about past lovers. You’re who I want, Hayley. I’d not want to change a thing about ye even if I could.” He paused, and for a moment I caught a glimpse of a man I had not seen before. A vulnerable, conflicted man. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything ye don’t want. But I should make a confession, I suppose.”

  Disappointment flooded my stomach. “Oh?”

  He stepped back, breaking the physical connection between us, and shrugged, his posture guarded. “I havena’ been with a woman in almost two years.” His eyes were dark and full of secrets. He threw the statement at me and let it hang there unadorned.

  I was flummoxed, trying to translate the subtext. “I don’t understand. What does that have to do with me?”

  “I’m trying to tell ye that you’re special to me. Over the years of partying with the lads and celebrating every victory with a pub crawl and women whose faces I can’t even remember, I lost sight of who I was as a man. I woke up one day and realized I was unhappy knowing what I had become. My mum raised me with the concepts of honor and humility. But I’d been so blinded by my own success that I began to think her notions were quaint and outdated.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “Maybe no’ one thing in particular. Or maybe everything. When I began looking in the mirror, really looking, I saw a selfish, ego-centered laddie with more money than sense. But the final wake-up call happened when I placed a large bet on a horse race and lost. In fifteen minutes I threw away more money than many people make in a year.” He scraped his hands through his hair, his face gaunt with the memory. “I was ashamed afterward. Dead disgusted with myself. So I decided it was time to set the wheels in motion for my retirement. Time to come home and see if there was any
thing left of the boy my mum had raised.”

  I was touched by his tale and equally touched that he had trusted me with the details of what had been a painful transition to maturity. “We all make mistakes, Angus. Yours are not so bad. At least you recognized your own failings. Not everyone is that smart.”

  I knew we should be working. But I sensed this was a turning point in our budding relationship. Angus had opened up to me. His honesty deserved more than to be brushed aside with a throwaway comment on my part.

  “Tell me about your mother,” I said. “How did she raise you on her own? Where did she work?”

  His face darkened. “So you’ve heard the tale of my absentee father.”

  “Yes. Annis told me. Your mother must be a very strong woman.”

  “Aye. She is. Her home was on the island of Harris. Most of her family were weavers. When she came to live with her great aunt, after I was born, Mum bought a small used loom and began weaving items to sell. She found a posh shop in Inverness that would take her creations on consignment. By the time I was in school, she was doing very well for herself…well enough that she was not forced to consider marriage as a means of support.”

  “But has she never found someone she loved?”

  “There may have been men when I was small. But if there were, I never knew about them. She devoted her whole life to making sure I didn’t miss out on not having a father.”

  “I like your mother,” I said. “Though I’m not sure what she thinks of me. She doesn’t talk a lot.”

  “’Tis only because she’s shy. When I was a boy, she chattered all the time. She would fence off a little area of the room to keep me from wandering, and while I played with my toys, she would work at her loom and tell stories.”

  “What kind of stories?”

  “Och, you’d love them, being a teacher and all. They were full of fairies and witches and enchanted animals. Every tale her mum had spun for her as a child.”