by Marlie May
Waves rushed the shore and scurried back again, the fury reflecting the residue of the storm we’d had last night. Turning south, I strolled beside the water.
I heard his footsteps come up behind me but didn’t turn. I couldn’t turn. Not yet.
“Lark.” Only his voice made my steps slow to a stop. With my heart in my throat, I faced him.
“I love seeing you wearing my tartan,” he said in a husky voice. “It’s…perfect.”
I couldn’t speak, because my lungs were bursting with emotion.
He looked tired. Sad. And filled with regret.
He cleared his throat and continued, “I’m sorry I gave you a reason to hate me.” His chest lifted and fell. “I told you too little about me. Shared nothing of who I really am. I held everything inside, afraid that by giving all of myself to you, I’d wind up hurt.” His voice deepened. “But I was wrong, and I want to make it up to you if I can.”
I wanted to run to him, bury myself in his arms. Because I’d always seen him. Known him. He hadn’t been able to truly hide. But I was afraid to take that first step, worried that if I gave myself now, I’d be wounded all over again.
“I know I don’t deserve a second chance,” he said. “But I had to try. I’m baring myself to you, showing you everything I am. If it’s not enough…If you want me to leave you alone, I will.”
“I don’t.” Fear made my voice croak. I cleared my throat but my words still came out in a whisper. “I don’t hate you, Dag. Not sure I’ll ever be able to hate you.”
“You don’t know how happy that makes me.” He swallowed, working hard with the movement. “You read my book?”
I nodded.
“Then you came here for something, didn’t you?”
I lifted my chin. “I did.”
“Can you tell me what it is?” The words wrenched out of him. Sounding so lonely. Vulnerable. Much like how I’d felt since we broke up.
A long, winding road untraveled still stretched ahead of me, but the time to turn back and look was now, while the memories were fresh.
While there was still time to make new ones.
“I’ve used up all my wishes,” I whispered.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out two striped stones and held them toward me, his palm cupping the sky. “Will these do?”
“Let’s throw them. See if wishes really do come true.”
Taking my hand, he rested one of the stones inside and folded my fingers around it.
We turned to face the sea, standing close, our arms almost touching.
“One,” he said. “Close your eyes.”
Night enveloped the world, taking me along with it. With the outside shut away, the ocean dominated, the water crashing before dragging itself back out into the nothing, then returning for more.
“Two,” I said. “Squeeze tight.”
Like much in life, if you didn’t hold onto things that were dear, you lost them.
His fingers linked through mine.
“Three,” he said. “Make a wish.”
I already knew what I wanted. Inhaling, I lifted my voice. “And…throw.” Hauling back my arm, I released everything inside me to the sea.
Praying that life would deliver.
Our stones arced through the sky and dropped into the water, taking our dreams along with them.
“I love you, Lark.”
And there it was. Sometimes, wishes did come true.
I’d known from the moment I read Duncan speak those words to Lenore. No, I’d felt the emotions raging through him when he thought he’d lost her forever. Dag’s emotions, calling to me from the pages.
“I love you, too, Dag.”
Wrapping me tight in his arms, he released the weight of the world with his sigh. “I’m sorry. It kills me to think I hurt you. The things I said; they were wrong. I didn’t mean them, but I couldn’t help it. I—”
I placed a finger over his lips. “It’s okay.” And, it was.
He stroked my face and stared into my eyes. “Will you tell me what you wished for?”
What I’d always want. “You.”
He held me as if he found me more precious than life itself. When he kissed me, he poured his heart through in his touch.
I returned the feeling tenfold. “What did you wish for?” I asked when we parted.
“Och, lass. Dinnae ye ken?” His soft smile wrapped me up in his never-ending embrace. I knew he’d never let go. Not any longer. “To spend the rest of my life with you.”
If you’d like to hear about what I’m working on next, sign up for my newsletter now!
You can find me via my website
Twitter, and on Facebook.
If you’ve enjoyed Some Like It Scot, I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Would you pretty please leave a review?
Goodreads
Amazon
I know Dag & Lark, and even Scruff would say thanks.
Other Books by Marlie May
Crescent Cove Contemporary Romances
SOME LIKE IT SCOT
SIMPLY IRRESISTIBLE
Crescent Cove Romantic Suspense
Viper Force
FEARLESS, April, 2019
RUTHLESS, Summer, 2019
Independent titles
TWIST OF FATE
(A time travel romance set in ancient Pompeii)
If you’d like a quick peek at the next book in the Crescent Cove Series, a secret baby romance featuring Roan and the woman he’s never forgotten, turn for the first chapter…
Simply Irresistible
A Crescent Cove Contemporary Romance, Book 2
Back in college, my best friend broke my heart. Now, he wants a second chance...
Six years ago I made my biggest mistake. I fell deeply, madly, one-hot-night-in-bed in love with my best friend, Dag Ross. Only to be told in the morning it was over. I ran.
Now, I'm back in town, a widow with a four-year-old daughter. I'm respectable. Responsible. Able to behave around Roan.
Which means:
No kissing.
No touching.
No giving in to his hot guy, panty-melting charm.
Six years ago, I would’ve killed to be with my best friend, Cara, but our one night together crashed and burned in the morning.
This time, I won't make a play for her heart. I won't tease her. And I definitely I won't tumble into bed with her all over again.
Scratch that. I play to win, and I want her.
When her in-laws sue for custody of her daughter, I offer her a marriage of convenience to help her win the case.
Which means:
One tropical paradise honeymoon in Costa Rica.
One king sized bed.
Me and her and...endless temptation.
My final chance to make this right.
This book was a 2018 RWA® Golden Heart Finalist.
Read on for the first chapter…
Or buy it here.
Chapter 1
Cara
I hadn’t expected to run into my former lover on my first weekend back in my hometown.
Roan bustled behind the counter, stretching pizza dough, topping it with tomato sauce, spices, and cheese. Whistling while swaying his butt in a way that was too cute for my soul to handle.
The most unexpected part about seeing him was the shift in my chest. After almost six years, I thought I’d feel nothing when I saw him again. Well, maybe some anger, but never longing. Which begged the question: What did I long for? Not a repeat of that night we’d had together, because that would only wreck me all over again.
Maybe I missed what we’d lost after we crossed that line. Our friendship.
“Mom?” My daughter, Arie, stared up at me. “We gonna get our pizza?”
“Sure are, sweetie.” I ruffled her hair. Dark brown, like mine. The waves came from her father, Jason.
Taking her hand, I led her toward the counter, passing booths filled with teenagers and parents with little kids.
Since the Brew House was practically the only restaurant in town, they must see tons of business. Otherwise, Crescent Cove was still the sleepy coastal Maine town I’d grown up in.
“Can I help you?” a middle-aged woman standing behind the counter asked while tucking a strand of her black hair behind her ear.
“We ordered a pizza to go,” I said. “Under Stillman?”
“Should be ready in a second.” She typed our order into the computer, and then looked up with a smile. “That’ll be twelve-fifty-two.”
I handed her a twenty.
Arie whispered as she stared at the menu board, although I doubted she understood even half of what she read. At four, she was a pro at the alphabet and could write her name, but she’d just started sounding out words in the picture books we read together at bedtime.
My gaze was pulled back to Roan, who was loading a pizza into the wood-fired oven built into the far wall. Hopefully, we’d escape with our order before he saw me.
Funny how a few years could leave some people unchanged. Me? I might be twenty-eight, but sometimes lately, I felt forty. Roan looked exactly like he had when I’d last seen him, back when we’d just graduated from college. Broader shoulders, perhaps, but still a narrow waist. The same boyish dimples that sent my heart into a tailspin whenever they appeared. Dark blond hair streaked with surfer’s sunshine, even though he’d never ridden a board.
As if he sensed my attention, he turned, and his eyes lighted on me. A flash of pain, so brief I might’ve imagined it, crossed his face.
“Cara,” he mouthed. He untied his apron and yanked it over his head, tossing it aside. He strode around the counter and right up to me.
For whatever reason, I couldn’t drum up the indifference I wanted to feel for him. I could only tremble, my heart pounding in my chest. Because this was Roan, standing so close to me, I could reach out and touch him if I dared. All the feelings I’d had for him back then ran through me now. We’d had so much fun growing up together.
Like the time we’d gone roller-skating. Poor Roan had been a wall-hugger until I’d taken his hand in mine and shown him how wonderful it was to zip across the hardwood floor. Yeah, we’d crashed more times than my butt liked to remember, but we’d laughed our heads off while we did it.
Or the time we went cross country skiing on the trails outside of town. Me, shivering and complaining about the cold. Until Roan showed me how much fun it was to fly through the woods, the breeze nipping my cheeks, my skis swooshing beneath me on the hard-packed snow.
A lifetime of memories had connected us, but he’d cut those threads, leaving them to snap back to deliver me a mortal blow.
I needed to harden my heart, as I’d done back then, and remember my promise.
“It’s great to see you.” Stepping forward, he engulfed me in his arms. His warm scent drifted around me: evergreen, spice, man.
For a second, I closed my eyes and let myself drink him in. Only Roan had been able to bring out my best and tease me until I laughed at my worst. I wanted to melt into him. Wrap my arms around him. Never let go. The lure of my family may have called me back to Maine, but only now did I finally feel home.
But this was wrong. I’d just started to find myself and take charge of my destiny. With one touch, I started to fall apart all over again.
I shifted backward and lifted a shaky hand to fiddle with my hair. There was no denying that Jason had been a good man. I’d cared for him. But my feelings for my former husband were a fraction of what I’d once felt for Roan.
“You look great,” Roan said. “I heard you were moving back home.”
“I wanted to be closer to Dad.”
Arie gazed up at him, her face knitting. “Who’re you?”
“I’m Roan. And you’re…” Roan glanced at me. “She’s yours and Jason’s.”
I stroked my daughter’s soft hair. “This is Arie.”
“You’re a really big pizza guy,” my daughter said, her eyes like saucers.
In California, we’d ordered take-out more times than I cared to admit. Chinese. Indian. Tex-Mex. With my husband sick, quick meals had become the best meals. We’d eaten our way around the world but mostly ordered from Pete’s Pizza. The delivery boy was short and skinnier than a green bean, unlike Roan.
“That’s me. Just a big pizza guy.” Everything grave filled his voice. His sparkling eyes met mine.
I barely kept my smile from lifting to join with his. Traitorous smile.
“I make a mean pizza,” Roan said. “But I also make a mean salsa.”
I frowned. “Salsa? Like…”
“Yup.” He rocked on his heels. “My grandmother’s recipes.”
After school, his Gran would put out chips and homemade salsa for us to snack on while we did homework. Garden-fresh tomatoes, cilantro, jalapeños. My mouth watered, and I could almost taste it now.
“I’ve expanded into hot sauces, too.” Roan tucked his hand into the pocket of his jeans. His snug jeans. Not because he’d gained weight. It was obvious by the hint of abs underneath his tee that he was as buff as he’d been back in college.
I pulled my eyes up to his. Hooded, which told me he’d seen where my attention had wandered. Heat flooded my face. I hadn’t really been looking there.
Roan glanced around. Was steel solidifying in his expression? “Jason here with you?”
The three of us had hung out together during college. I’d married Jason, while Roan chose Lainie.
“No, he’s not.” Thankfully, Arie was chatting with a girl sitting at a nearby table. She didn’t need to hear this.
“Where is he?” Roan’s gaze narrowed on my face. “I’d love to say hello. Him being an old friend, and all.”
I’d have to name it sometime, even though speaking the words would only make me feel sad all over again. “Jason’s been dead for eight months. Cancer.”
“I’m sorry.” The irritation I’d heard in Roan’s words fled.
“Thank you. It’s been a rough time for us.”
He rubbed my arm. “I really didn’t know.”
“I guess that makes sense.” Unsettled by how alive I felt just because he stood near, I backed away. “It’s not as if we stayed in touch.”
Roan followed me with measured steps, one for each of mine. A hunter trailing a woodland creature. He’d need to take care, or I’d bite. “You’re right. The three of us were friends, but we didn’t stay in touch. Why didn’t we?”
How else could I put it? Roan said us sleeping together was a huge mistake. He’d asked me to leave so he could be with Lainie. The hurt I’d lived with back then came rushing back, making it hard to breathe. “I think you know the answer to that already.”
“Maybe, but…I wish…” A husky color rose in his face, and his hazel eyes darkened.
The colors in Roan’s eyes had always fascinated me. Happy, they looked like mist drifting across a meadow. Sad, they resembled a soft green fern. Now, they were blacker than hemlock on a cold winter’s day. I wasn’t sure how to read this color.
“Your pizza’s ready.” The older woman leaned around Roan, holding out a white cardboard box.
“Good seeing you,” I said to Roan. I propped the box on my hip and spoke to Arie. “Time to go, sweetie.”
Roan’s gaze followed me out the door.
Our boots crunched on the snow as we walked down the sidewalk toward the building I’d purchased for my new business. We soon turned onto the path alongside and climbed the staircase to our second-floor apartment.
“One is fun, two is true.” Arie sang the song I’d made up to help her learn her numbers. I hummed along, and we stomped in time on the steps. “Three is a tree. Four…” Tilting her head, she frowned up at me. “What’s four again, Mommy?”
“For sure.”
While Arie worked her way to ten in a chirpy voice that melted my heart, I skimmed my eyes across my building. There was so much to do before this place would be ready to open. The outside needed paint and a new roo
f. Inside, a kitchen update, among a million other things. I’d bought the building for practically nothing because it had been on the market for years. Or so Dad told me when he emailed me the real estate link four months ago. When he said he missed me and hoped I’d move home.
With the remainder of my savings, I’d hire out the kitchen renovation and roof repair. But I had strong arms and the will to do the rest myself. If things went as expected, I’d open my doors in April, three months from now.
It would look fantastic. Light blue paint with cream trim. Simple, yet elegant tables with matching chairs on the patio out front. And cozy nooks inside where people could sit and enjoy a cup of tea with a cookie or scone, fresh from the oven. And, to top it off, a sign hanging above the main entrance.
Tea for Two
The name we’d come up with for my new tea room.
We. I’d yet to break the habit of referring to myself as one of two.
Just thinking about Jason made me stall on the steps and lower my head as if he’d reached out from his grave and spoken harshly to me. Our relationship had challenged my patience more times than I cared to admit, but I did miss him. Hard not to when he’d been such a huge part of my life.
For the first time in forever, I felt free, no longer tied to a life spent fulfilling everyone else’s needs except my own.
“Mommy?” Arie said from the deck above me.
Leaving California to come back home was the bravest thing I’d done in years, and it was time to savor this challenge. Smiling up at my daughter, I took the stairs two at a time. “Coming!”