Blindsided

by Amy Daws

  “I know!” he roars.

  The two of us breathe heavily in each other’s faces for a long moment, both of our bodies vibrating with anger, lust, attraction, and something else. Something…bigger.

  “Excuse me,” a man’s voice says from beside us, breaking us out of some serious eye-fucking going on. I look over and see it’s the person Mac handed the balloons to. “Do I still need to hold these? My food has arrived.”

  Mac reaches over, yanks the balloons out of his hand and releases them into the air. “Happy fucking Birthday, Cookie. Christ, how am I still screwing this up?” he grumbles, gripping the back of his neck and shaking his head as he appears to search his mind for a moment.

  He exhales heavily and pins me with a look. “Freya Cook, I want you to live with me because I’m madly in love with you, and I don’t want to wait to start our lives together. I’m trying to show you that I’m all in. I want you in London, Scotland, anywhere you’ll have me. I don’t want less with you. I want more. Heartland more. That’s why I want to fucking marry you, you stubborn woman!”

  “What?” I shriek, scaring the poor kitty in my hands. “How could you possibly know you want to marry me? Are you an idiot?”

  “If that makes me an idiot, then aye, sure. I’m an idiot!” Mac snaps back, his Scottish accent getting thicker with his intensity.

  He clenches his teeth and hisses something under his breath before moving into my space and cupping my face in his hands. “My love for you is as real as your love for that daft horse show, Freya. I even love how you sound like Hagrid from Harry Potter when you’re feeling poorly. I love that you hate drinking out of anything other than a coffee cup. I love that most designers would sketch beautiful women’s dresses or shoes but you sketch cat pyjamas and paw slippers.”

  “I just think some cats would like sleepwear.”

  “I know,” I reply with a laugh, my lips itching to kiss this beautiful, maddening woman in front of me. “I love how your crazy mind operates and how you’re always doing something unexpected. I love how you hum when you brush your teeth, and have conversations with your food even when I’m standing in the room with you.”

  “I don’t have conversations with my food,” Freya replies with a nervous snort-filled laugh as she looks at the people around us.

  “You do, and it’s so fucking adorable, it’s hard for me to keep my hands off you. You also have this uncanny ability of making me happy and at peace. I’ve never felt more at home than when I’m sitting on your sofa, watching you sniffle during Heartland.”

  “I’m sorry for how I told you I loved you at my parents’ house. You were right, I was a mess that day, but I’m not anymore. I’m seeing everything clearly now, Cookie. I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you in that damn boutique when you spoiled Shameless for me. You blindsided me, Freya. You blindsided me with everything I never knew I wanted.”

  He leans in and presses a hard, chaste kiss to my lips, his breath coming heavy and fast as he pulls back and adds, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you because you’re my wee treasure, and despite how crazy mad you make me and how much we bicker, there’s no one else I’d want to fight with in life.” He hesitates and gets a serious look on his face before adding. “I wasn’t going to do this here, but you’ve given me no other choice.”

  He drops down on one knee.

  He’s dropping down on one bleddy knee!

  He reaches into his pocket.

  He’s reaching into his bleddy pocket!

  A blue velvet box appears in his hand. Like he magicked it into existence just by sheer will. He cracks open the box, and there sits a ring. A giant monstrosity of a thing that you would see dangling for dear life on one of those lanky supermodels with bones for fingers. It’s the kind of ring that’s so enormous it probably tips those tiny model’s weight over from ninety-nine pounds to one hundred and two.

  I’ll take a couple of extra pounds on the scale for a ring like that.

  “Freya Cook, it’s my turn to blindside you and ask…will you marry me?” God help him, his voice even cracks at the end as his eyes become red with unshed tears. “I know we never talked about this and you’re probably wondering what the hell I’m doing with a ring in my pocket but, bloody hell, Freya, I’ve known you for well over a year, and all I want to do for the rest of my life is argue with you and make love to you and keep you as my best mate…and my wife. You’re it for me, Cookie. Partly because I don’t think anyone else could stand me but mostly because I don’t want to sit and watch telly on the sofa with anybody else. I want to be old, grey, fat, and happy with you. Will you be fat and happy with me?”

  An embarrassing sob bubbles up from my throat because I don’t think he could have said anything more perfect at this moment. I pull the dear little kitty who has no idea what’s going on up to my face and wipe my tear-stained cheeks off on his fur before croaking, “I’d love nothing more than to see you fat, Maclay Logan.”

  He stands up and kisses me, and for the first time in my entire life, I’m no longer thinking of my flaws or my future or what my ending will be. Because I’m holding my happy ending with a furry little kitty in the middle.

  That’s a lie. I’m thinking about babies. Lots and lots of ginger-haired, wild, kilt-wearing Scottish babies with this man who I want to have my babies.

  Wait…that didn’t sound right. Let’s try that again.

  —the man who I want to have his sperm.

  Bleddy hell, that’s not right either. Take three!

  —the man whose babies I want to rear in my fruitful loins.

  Nailed it.

  “Just to be clear, that was a yes to you marrying me, right?” Mac asks, pulling away and giving the kitten some space.

  “It was a yes,” I laugh, and he reaches up to wipe the tears from my eyes.

  “Good, because I wanted to wait until I trapped you to tell you the new kitty shat on your rug and left a stain.”

  “What?” I screech, my eyes wide and accusing on the man that just turned me into a puddle of mush a second ago.

  “I cleaned it up, but…it didn’t look good when I left.”

  “Mac!”

  “He was having so much fun with Hercules I think the wee bugger just crapped himself with happiness.”

  “Were you watching him?” I swear to God if he was digging in my cupboards for food, I’m going to kill him!

  “Aye, sure,” he replies with a guilty look on his face.

  “If he develops a bad habit because of you, you’re cleaning up all the messes.”

  “Aye, stop nagging me, woman.”

  “Never,” I smile.

  He smiles too. And then…we’re kissing again.

  Freya and I rush back to her flat from The Rooftop St James and tear each other’s clothes off.

  Okay, that’s a lie…

  We spend our first hour as a newly engaged couple going to a pet shop to pick up supplies for our new wee kitten. The moment we enter Freya’s flat, she drops to the floor as Hercules greets us, and she watches with pure joy as her old companion welcomes his new furry friend.

  Freya cries.

  I cry because she cries.

  And then we do the real version of Netflix and chilling. And then of course, a classic Freya and Mac activity called…Netflix and arguing.

  “How many dates did you go on with blokes while we were apart?” I ask, my voice low as I lay on Freya’s purple sofa with her between my legs. Her red hair is a beautiful mess of post-coital satisfaction draped across my chest, and she’s wearing another one of her kitty nightshirts, this one featuring graphic text across the front that says “If Cats Could Talk, They Wouldn’t”.

  She tenses against my shirtless body and turns back to look at me. “What?”

  I exhale heavily and run my finger along the freckles on her nose. “I just…I have to know.”

  She blinks nervously while toying with the hem of her shirt. “Why?”

  I frown as
my arms tighten around her. “Because I’m a fucking caveman, okay? Can you just get it over with and tell me? I’m not going to be angry…just rip it off like a plaster.”

  Her lips twitch with barely concealed amusement. “How many women were you with when we were apart?”

  I stiffen around her body. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  She turns over, so she’s now lying on her belly over my chest and watches me expectantly. “Don’t tell me you were celibate for two months.”

  “Cookie, I’ve been celibate since the moment I met you, just confirming the fact that I’ve been hopelessly in love with you from the beginning.” I reach out and tug on her adorable pink ear. “After I had you, I couldn’t even look at another woman without aching for your body and your smile. Hell, I even missed the way you smack my chest when you’re angry at me. So I stayed as far away from women as I could the entire time I was in Glasgow.”

  She chews her lip nervously and looks down, tracing my nipples with her fingertips. “So you never even dated anyone? Flirted?”

  I reach down and crook my finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me. “The closest I got to any women were my mother and Tilly. Now you. Confess your sins.” My hands lower, and I squeeze her sides playfully causing her to giggle and squirm on my groin, which in turn causes my cock to demand a second round. But he must be ignored because I want to hear this.

  When I notice Freya’s cheeks pink up with anxiety, my disposition softens. Maybe I’m putting too much pressure on her. If she slept with several men while we were apart, I can’t blame her for that. I was a complete arse, and it would be natural for her to be curious after waiting so long to have sex in the first place.

  I lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead. “It’s all right, Cookie. I understand if you wanted to explore other options.” I kiss her again and add with waggling eyebrows, “Just tell me I’m the best cock you’ve ever had, and we can move on.”

  Her face immediately lightens as she pins me with a look and replies, “You’re the best cock I’ve ever had.”

  I thrust my fist upward, feeling victorious. “God, please put that on my tombstone someday, even if you are lying to me.”

  Freya goes quiet, looking down at her hands clasped on top of my chest as she adds, “Also you’re still the only cock I’ve ever had.”

  I watch her for a few seconds, my brows pinched in confusion. “But in my bedroom back in Dundonald, you said…”

  She shrugs, glancing up at me, a sad look flitting across her face. “I was just trying to hurt you as much as you hurt me.”

  I swallow the painful lump in my throat. “It fucking worked.”

  She reaches out to press her hand against my cheek, whispering, “I’m sorry.”

  I turn my head and kiss the inside of her palm, letting her know I forgive her as she has forgiven me. “So, who the fuck was that Jasper guy tonight?”

  Freya inhales deeply. “He was actually the first and only date I went on since you left for Scotland. I set up my online dating account after that game I attended of yours in Glasgow, but even though I hated you, I could never manage to swipe right on anybody.” She scrunches her nose as she continues, “The only reason I went out with Jasper was because I didn’t want to spend my actual birthday with Allie and the Harris hoard. Having a date seemed less pathetic, and he looked like the safest choice.”

  “He did at that,” I state glumly as her words hit me square in the gut. I reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear, my finger trailing along her warm earlobes. “I should have been here for you. I should have done better. You should have never doubted who you were going to be spending your birthday with.”

  Her eyes become glossy as she looks up at me. “I hated not being there for you during your grandad’s funeral. Watching you with your parents and sister at the gravesite, it physically hurt me that I couldn’t be beside you, holding your hand.”

  “I didn’t even know you were at the burial,” I state, a melancholy washing over me at the memory of that day. “I was a mess then, Freya. I was holding on so hard to what I thought was the right way to live based on stuff my grandfather told me as a wee lad. Even at the end, he told me I was being a fool for not going after you. And then you showed up at the funeral, and I thought that was my chance to make it all better.

  “I shouldn’t have told you I loved you in my room that day. It was the wrong time, and my head was in the wrong place.” I reach out and pull her up to me, needing to hug my apology out with my body just as much as my words. I pull back and hold her face when I add, “And I hate myself for what I said to you in my car. The idea that you could ever just be sex to me is utter shite. I was so damn in love with you, but I couldn’t put it into proper words yet.”

  She holds my hand against her cheek and smiles. “You’re doing a pretty good job making up for it now.”

  “I love you, my wee treasure. I love you more than I knew I was capable of loving someone. Nothing about you and me has been expected.”

  I press my lips to hers in a soft, sensual kiss. She hums a sexy noise when my lips move down her neck and pull her nightgown away to kiss her bare shoulder. Growling in satisfaction, I continue kissing my way across her skin, murmuring against her flesh, “The way you make me crave you…the sex…the way we come together…” My lips part as my hands move from her face and slide down her neck, brushing over her ribs and wrapping around to fondle her sweet, round arse. “…it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced with another person.”

  My lips brush across hers as I add, “I know you don’t have experience with other men, but you need to know…what you and I have…I’d trade all my past experiences for just one night with you.”

  Slowly, I pull up the bottom of her shirt and allow my greedy palms to squeeze the flesh of her sweet supple arse. Her breath quickens, thickening my cock between us as she rocks into my grasp over and fucking over again.

  God, she feels good.

  I kiss her savagely, and she groans into my mouth before I pull back, keyed up and ready to rip this damn shirt off and ravage her for another hour. I pause first and say, “But you should know…I wouldn’t have cared if you’d have slept with a dozen men while we were apart…because this body…will always be mine.”

  She lets out the sexiest whimper, and in a flash, she sits up between my legs and pulls her nightgown off. I move to ditch my shorts, and in a matter of seconds, she’s astride me, lowering her sweet, wet pussy over my hard, throbbing cock.

  Fuck, she feels good. I’ll never get enough of her. I reach out and palm her breasts, relishing in the size and weight of them in my hands, and squeezing as she arches into my touch. Biting my lip, I roll her nipples between my fingers and watch her with rapt fascination as she throws her head back, her moans loud and dead fucking sexy as she rocks herself on top of me, taking my cock deeper with every thrust of her hips.

  Desperate to taste her, I sit up, my lips crashing into hers, as I hug her body to mine, feeling her bare chest against mine as my need boils over like water in a pot.

  She catches up to my level quickly and runs her hands through my hair, as she gives as good as she gets. I pull back from her lips long enough to croak out, “Christ, I love you.”

  “I love you too,” she cries, her words tipping her over into sweet, complete oblivion as she clamps down around me. I thrust up into her hard and fast, forcing my release so I can be right there with her.

  “Forever, my wee treasure.” My best mate. My lover. And soon-to-be my wife.

  Her eyes open, dazed, satiated, and devastatingly beautiful. “Forever, my brooding Scot.”

  “We have to be at my birthday party in two hours,” Freya groans, her voice hoarse from all the delicious cries of passion she uttered mere moments ago. “And if you don’t let me out of this bed to get ready, you and I will officially be in a fight.”

  “God, I love fighting with you,” I growl, wrapping my arms around Freya’s naked waist and press
ing my lips to hers as we lay facing each other in her bed, sexually satiated and smiling like a couple of lovesick puppies.

  It’s been three days since I proposed to Freya, and I actually want her more now than when I first had her. Who knew being able to freely say I love you to a lass when you’re balls deep in her would be so fucking…special?

  Christ, I’m turning into a sap.

  It gutted me to get on a plane back to Glasgow the next morning and leave her for training and a Thursday night match, but I had to go.

  However, as soon as we were done with team meetings on Friday afternoon, I was back in London, not giving a shite that I only had twenty-four hours to be with her before I was due back in Scotland.

  “Did you talk to Sloan, Leslie, and Allie then?” I ask, desperate to see if a move for Freya is feasible.

  She nods slowly. “I did. I think they’re confused with the sudden need to move so quickly when we just got back together. But I think it’s because they don’t know about this old thing.” She holds her hand up, her diamond glittering in the soft daylight streaming in through the window.

  We’ve managed to keep our engagement a secret from our friends so we can tell them tonight at the party that Allie is throwing for Freya’s thirtieth birthday. We did get around to telling our parents over the phone, at least, when we were finally able to tear ourselves away from each other that night. And despite me not asking Freya’s folks for permission beforehand, they seemed chuffed for us, thank fuck.

  Telling our friends tonight will be another matter altogether. “Do you think after we tell everybody tonight, the girls will be more supportive of you moving?” I ask, my brows furrowed curiously.

  “I think so. It’s not that they’re not happy for us being together officially. They are totally Team Mac and Freya. I just think they’re worried about how to get the pet line launched by Christmas without me here.”

  I sit up on my elbow and stare down at Freya’s worried brow. “Cookie, if you need to stay in London, stay in London. Aye, you in Glasgow sounds dead brilliant to me, but we can make long distance work for a few months.”