Scotch and Snow

by Penny Wells

  “You’ll be fit after a good night’s sleep,” he said confidently. “Then you’ll be ready to take in the city and all its charms.”

  “I’m excited!”

  “If you want, I could show you around the city tomorrow,” he said casually. “I have the day off and I don’t mind.”

  Heather smiled in surprise. “Okay,” she said. “I could use a tour guide.”

  Chapter 2

  Heather woke up early the next morning, dressed, and made herself a cup of coffee. As it was brewing, Liam knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” she called.

  He poked his head inside, one large hand wrapped around the edge of the door. “Do you want to go out for breakfast? Or would you prefer to eat before we get going?”

  Heather glanced at the makeshift kitchen supplies. He followed her gaze. “There’s not much there,” he said before she could answer. “Shall we go out, then?”

  Heather had the impression he wanted to have breakfast with her. “Sure,” said Heather. “I’m nearly ready.”

  He nodded once. “I’ll meet you out front in ten, then.”

  Outside, the day was cold and the sky unsurprisingly cloudy. A light frost covered the grass. Heather pulled her scarf tighter around her neck. She did not wait long before the front door opened and Liam appeared. His jacket and pants were black and he wore the same brown boots as the day before. He had a tartan scarf and no hat. He raked back his wavy copper-brown hair with his fingers as he fumbled for the keys with his other hand. He turned and his short beard split into a smile. “Ready?” he asked brightly.

  The nearest cafe was a fifteen-minute walk from Liam’s home. It was small with steamy windows and a bell tied to the door. A sandwich board out on the sidewalk announced the arrival of a line of festive peppermint-flavored drinks. The barista and cashier both greeted Liam by name. Heather smiled nervously, feeling suddenly shy with the renewed awareness that she was in a foreign country with a man she didn’t know.

  They ordered separately, Liam requesting his “usual” which turned out to be tea and a piece of sourdough with cream cheese and smoked salmon. “You’re a muffin kind of girl, then,” he teased as he lifted his bread up to take a bite. “In the land of scones, she eats what she knows.”

  Heather grinned over her chocolate chip muffin. “I don’t like dried fruit,” she said. “They didn’t have cinnamon or chocolate chip scones. Just blueberry and orange.” She sipped on her second cup of coffee. “You always have the salmon?”

  “I like to start my day with protein,” he said with a smile. “I suppose I could switch to chocolate. I hear that’s just as energizing. Start my day with a bang.”

  “Hey, coffee and chocolate were meant for each other,” said Heather, lifting her drink.

  He shook his head playfully. “You eat breakfasts like this and somehow you’re still right fit.”

  “Right fit?” she echoed, confused. Heather was not an athletic type, nor was she exactly thin. She would not have described herself as “fit,” but always thought of herself as curvy, something she was proud of.

  To her surprise, Liam blushed a little, his face turning pink beneath his well-groomed beard. Despite this, he looked directly at her as he said, “It means you’re attractive.” He grabbed his tea, seemingly for something to do with his hands.

  Heather blinked, feeling pleasurably nervous and flattered. “Liam Mackay, are you hitting on me? At breakfast?”

  “Only a little,” he said roguishly.

  Heather felt her face warming, staring at him. “Well you’re not bad looking yourself,” she said finally.

  Liam smiled again.

  After breakfast, Liam asked if Heather was feeling up to a walk. She was all for it, so they headed off to explore Edinburgh on foot. Their conversation was light and easy as they walked through Old Town and the Grassmarket areas, taking in the brightly colored buildings of Victoria’s Street, the sweet bronze sculpture of a dog known as Greyfriars Bobby, and exploring the alleyways that felt like hidden passages. Heather was mesmerized with the beauty of the city. It was even better in person than the photos she had seen online. Old Town felt so much like a giant castle complex that she was startled the first time she gazed up at Edinburgh Castle.

  “Can we go inside?” she whispered, her eyes on the fortress, nestled high up on a hill at the end of Castlehill.

  “It’s possible, but not today. You have to book tickets in advance, online,” he said. “We can walk up to it, if you want. We just can’t go inside.”

  “Yes, please,” said Heather at once, starting to walk again, puffing a little at the incline. She would certainly be in good shape if she ended up moving to the city. Edinburgh, it seemed, was made of hills.

  The street called Castlehill was marked by the most touristy atmosphere she had seen so far. Shops selling keychains and tee shirts lined the street while street performers dotted the sidewalk. She saw someone in a kilt playing the bagpipes and a man dressed in historical clothes with blue face paint. There was also a man with a large, live owl letting people try on a glove and allow the owl to sit on their arm. “He delivers Hogwarts letters when he’s not on duty,” said Liam.

  They walked as far as they could, inside the outer castle walls and to the ticket takers line. The hilltop offered a spectacular view of the city and Liam pointed out where he lived, the route they had come, and some other popular spots in the city.

  “Thank you for taking the time to show me around,” said Heather, pulling her gaze from the cityscape to look at her host. “I really appreciate it.”

  “You’re very welcome,” said Liam. “To tell the truth, I’ve enjoyed it as well. It’s a treat to see the city from your perspective. I grew up with cobblestone and these old, crumbling buildings. After a while you just stop really seeing them. But for you this is all new, and you really seem to think it’s special.”

  “You have door handles older than my entire country,” Heather joked. “It’s hard not to be impressed.” She looked back out at the view. The winter light, already pale and weak, seemed to be fading. “What time is it?” she asked. “It’s already getting dark.”

  “Ah, it’ll be about four o’clock, then,” said Liam casually.

  Heather looked at him, sure she must have heard wrong. “Four o’clock?” she repeated. “The sun goes down at four?”

  “Yes, it does,” said Liam with a chuckle. “What’s the matter? You act as though you’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  “That’s just very early,” said Heather.

  “No wonder you had such a good nap yesterday afternoon, eh?” said Liam, leaning playfully to bump her shoulder with his.

  Heather laughed. “Yes, that’s very disorienting,” she said.

  “Well, what would you like to do now? It’ll be dark soon, and while that means it’s not great for seeing the city, it does make it perfect for seeing the Christmas Markets. But speaking of naps, how are you feeling? Are you tired?” Liam asked.

  At his attention, Heather felt a warm spark of being cared for glow in her chest. “I am feeling a little tired,” she confessed. “And hungry. The fish and chips we had for lunch seems like ages ago.”

  “Do you want to go home and lay down?”

  “I was thinking more like resting for a minute in a cafe with coffee and a snack.”

  “Are you a big Harry Potter fan?” Liam asked.

  “Not huge, but I do like the series,” Heather answered.

  “I think you’ll like this, then. Come on. It’s not far.”

  They walked less than ten minutes before ending up at a cafe called The Elephant House. “J.K. Rowling wrote part of Harry Potter here. I’m not sure which books, but they’ve got pictures and memorabilia. It’s become something of a Harry Potter tourism hot spot,” Liam told her, opening the door for her.

  It was crowded and fairly noisy inside. Just inside the door was a glass case with a signed first edition of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s
Stone. There were pictures of Rowling inside the cafe and Liam pointed out that if you sat along a certain wall you could see Edinburgh Castle out of the misted windows. They sat at a table with drawers and Heather had a shock when she pulled one open. It was full of handwritten letters and notes: fans writing to J.K. Rowling, or to anyone reading, about their love of Harry Potter.

  Liam and Heather ate their snacks and drank their coffee more quietly than they had done all day. Heather was tired and she suspected Liam was as well. They must have walked ten miles. Heather’s ankles were tired from the uneven cobblestone, her calf muscles were sore from the hills and stairs, and her body was still unsure of what time it was supposed to be.

  Sometime later, they left the cafe feeling revived to head to Prince’s Street and the famous Edinburgh Christmas Markets. Unsure what to expect, Heather was delighted to find the markets were a sprawling, glittery affair. Thousands of twinkle lights lit up the walkways and stalls. Sweet scents were on the air: apple cider, hot chocolate, baked goods, and crepes. Just when she thought they had seen it all, they reached an overlook and Heather saw that there were dozens of stalls further down the hill that they had not explored yet. She shivered with cold and excitement. “It’s so pretty!” she said delightedly.

  Liam smiled at her. “Let’s get you something warm to drink,” he told her. “Hot chocolate or apple cider? My treat.”

  “Apple cider, please,” she said.

  He left and returned a few minutes later with mugs bearing the legend “Edinburgh Christmas Markets” with an outline of the city skyline in red. “Here you go, and you can keep the mug,” he said, passing it to her.

  “Thank you so much,” said Heather, taking the mug in both hands for warmth. “It smells delicious.” She took a tentative sip. “Does this have alcohol in it?”

  He gave her a curious look. “Of course. It’s cider.”

  Heather laughed. “In the U.S., we have alcoholic and non-alcoholic ciders,” she explained. “I drink it with breakfast sometimes, the non-alcoholic one.”

  “Huh. Well, it’s all alcoholic here unless it says otherwise,” he said with a shrug. “Want to keep walking?”

  She nodded, taking another sip. Perhaps it was the alcohol. Perhaps it was the twinkling lights. Perhaps it was the magic of being in a foreign country so thoroughly decorated for Christmas. Either way, Heather felt supremely happy as she wandered the market with Liam. They joked, bumping into each other and brushing each other’s arms with increasing ease. For a moment by the Ferris wheel, Heather even thought he was going to hold her hand.

  She stopped at a booth that sold Christmas tree ornaments. “Oh, these are so lovely!” she said, admiring them. They were delicate spun glass baubles in rich colors. “I love the red and white ones, and look at those blue ones!”

  “Blue for Scotland,” said Liam proudly. “Blue for our flag, with a bonnie white ribbon.”

  She smiled up at him, the alcohol making her feel warm and bold. “Bonnie,” she echoed, feeling flirtatious.

  “It means pretty or lovely,” he said quietly, holding her gaze.

  Later, Heather couldn’t say exactly what had happened. Had she risen up on tiptoes? Had he leaned down, his face close? All she knew for sure was that they kissed, his cold nose pressed to her cheek, his lips warm on hers. His beard brushed her face and his hand crept around her neck, reaching the base of her skull and pulling her closer. Her arm wrapped around his waist, her fingers digging into the back of his coat while her other hand gripped her porcelain mug. All she was aware of in the whole world were her lips moving against his, and then—

  “Oi!” called the owner of the stall sharply. “Do you mind? Go snog on a bench.”

  They broke apart, Heather breathing fast as if she had just climbed yet another hill. “Wow,” she whispered, taking a half step back from him. “Are you always such a generous Airbnb host?”

  To her surprise, his eyebrows knitted together in an expression of concern. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I shouldn’t have done that.” He shook his head sharply.

  “What?” she said quickly, feeling shocked and hurt.

  “I didn’t mean to. I just got carried away. The cider...” He rubbed his face hard with one hand. “I’ve never done that with any of my guests before,” he said after a moment.

  “Oh,” said Heather, feeling a little relieved. “Well—”

  “It’s against the rules.”

  “The rules?” she repeated, confused.

  “The Airbnb host guidelines, for one, but also my personal beliefs,” he said, looking at her with a distressed expression. “It’s not fair to you.”

  Heather took an unconscious half-step back. “Not fair to me?”

  “You’re staying in my home. Alone. Just you and me. You’re a stranger from another country, traveling a long way to pay money for lodging in the home of a man you don’t know,” he explained. “It’s not fair of me to do... this,” he said, gesturing vaguely between the two of them. “I would never want you to feel obligated or unsafe. I’m just meant to be a guy who happens to own the place you happen to stay at. Nothing more. Usually, I barely even meet my guests.”

  “I see,” said Heather, feeling more confused than ever. “So, you don’t want—”

  “I do,” he interrupted, his face suddenly earnest. “I’ve had a lot of fun with you today. I think you’re beautiful and interesting. But I can’t do this. It’s not fair.”

  “I’m sorry for putting you in that position, then,” said Heather stiffly. She felt deflated and foolish. Rejected. “Um, I’m tired. I think I’m ready to go to bed.”

  They walked to the bus stop in silence. Luckily, they did not have to wait long before the bus turned up. She sat in a window seat, but Liam, rather than sitting next to her, sat across the aisle. He did not look at her during the half hour bus ride back, though he did catch her attention when they reached their stop. On the sidewalk in front of his house, he finally broke his silence.

  “Listen,” he began.

  “No, I understand,” said Heather quickly, though she felt angry and a little like crying.

  “I won’t be around tomorrow,” he said. “I have work and then an office Christmas party.”

  She blinked. “On Christmas Eve?” she asked skeptically.

  “A lot of us don’t have family in the city,” he said.

  “Right,” she said coldly.

  “Anyway, I’ll be out early tomorrow and won’t be back until late, so don’t look for me.” He paused, looking at her, his expression sad and conflicted. “Do you need anything, before I go inside?”

  “No,” she said shortly, and she strode away to the back of the house before he could say anything else. Before she was halfway across the backyard, a hand grabbed her shoulder and she turned. Liam had followed her.

  “So that’s it?” he said angrily. “You’re just going to walk away from me?”

  “What do you mean?” she replied, wrenching her arm out of his grasp. “You’re just making excuses!”

  “Excuses?” he repeated, his voice was rising with frustration. “I haven’t made any excuses.”

  Heather rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “Oh, yeah, that’s believable,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You kissed me and then decided it was a mistake, so you made up some rule about Airbnb. Now you’re avoiding me altogether with some made up Christmas Eve work party.” She crossed her arms and glared at him.

  “I haven’t made any of that up! This is my life, Heather,” he said, his teeth clenched. “You can’t just appear out of nowhere and demand I change my principles and rearrange my schedule just for you.”

  “I haven’t made any demands,” she said, stung.

  “Haven’t you?” he shot back.

  “Just leave me alone,” she said, turning away.

  “Don’t walk away from me!” he roared.

  Heather spun around. “You can’t tell me what to do!” she shouted back.

&nb
sp; “You think you can do anything you feel like doing, regardless of how anyone else feels about it.” He shook his head in disgust. “You deserve to be spanked.”

  She laughed derisively. “You can’t even kiss me without violating your ‘code,’” she sketched quotation marks in the air with her fingers, “but I’m expected to believe you’ll spank me? Yeah, right.” For the third time, she turned away from him to walk back to her door.

  Liam yanked her around by her wrist. In one swift movement, he sat down on one of his lawn chairs and pulled Heather over his knees. She was so shocked by the movement that she didn’t fight back. Liam roughly moved her coat and dress out of the way with one hand and pulled her leggings and panties down with the other. For a moment, she was aware of the icy air, and then—

  Smack!

  Heather’s whole body jolted as he spanked her. Once, twice, three times, his palm hit her bare bottom. After five spanks, he grabbed her by her shoulders and stood her up. Heather stumbled, scrambling to pull her panties and leggings up over her stinging rear as Liam got to his own feet. He was very close to her in the darkness and for a moment she thought he might kiss her again.

  “Go to bed,” he said finally, his voice rough and commanding. Without another word, he strode away from her and out the back gate.

  Her hands shook a little as she unlocked the door, and Heather wasn’t sure if it was from emotion or cold. As she readied herself for bed, she ruminated on the evening. She didn’t know how to feel. She was still shocked by the spanking and inspected her backside in the mirror as she changed into her pajamas. His handprints were still visible, red against her skin. What a man, she thought.

  She liked Liam, thought he was attractive, and he seemed to feel the same way about her. She supposed she could understand his stance on not getting involved with his Airbnb guests, but wasn’t it a bit late to be bringing that up? Surely, he should have thought of that before he kissed her, before he flirted with her, before he offered to show her around, or to share a pizza with her. And now he had spanked her. Where did that leave them?