The old pub sat huge and imposing on the corner of the high street opposite the loch. Its walls, like the rest of the buildings in the center of town, were whitewashed. The smooth surface reflected the warm light from the street lamps and made the place glow. As usual, the hanging shingle made him smile. The pub was called The Scottie Dog. Not a name meant for smugglers and Highland bandits. The leaden windows let flickers of light from inside seep out, and as someone pushed open the heavy wooden door the din of chat, and laughter, wafted into the street. It was busy. Crowded. For a minute, he wondered if he wouldn’t rather be alone.
He pushed the door open before he could chicken out and spend his evening feeling sorry for himself in his ‘70s throwback flat. The door swung inwards quickly, hitting the person on the other side. Lake stepped inside and tripped over Kirsty Campbell. Words of apology fell out of his mouth before he realized who he’d trodden on. For some reason, the fact that he’d stumbled over Kirsty lifted his spirits no end.
“Seriously,” she grumbled. “You’re here too? You’re everywhere. I can’t get away from you.”
“It’s been almost a week since we talked,” Lake pointed out.
Not a week since he’d seen her. He’d had that pleasure every day. Kirsty bent over to rub the ankle he’d trodden on. Lake smiled at the sight of Kirsty’s rear wrapped in a wine-colored skirt. His fingers tingled. They wanted to reach out and curl around her hips. Someone jostled him as they exited the pub—it broke his concentration, but not before Kirsty spotted where he’d been staring. Her perfect eyes narrowed.
“You’re a snake, Lake Benson,” she told him.
Lake cocked his head to the side in agreement.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” she said.
“It’s a pub,” he said by way of explanation.
She pulled on the green coat he’d seen her wear before. Yet again she was covered from chin to ankle, and although it was cold, he was certain she must have been sweltering in the heat of the pub. She frowned at him.
“I know it’s a pub, dimwit. Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be renovating? Painting something? Planning world domination?”
“The world domination plan is in the bag. My evening is free.”
He stepped to the side of the door. Now her way was clear if she wanted to go. She made no attempt to run. Instead, she dug her fists into the pockets of her coat, making it pull on her shoulders.
“Why don’t you go back to the army and leave us all in peace?” she asked. “Wouldn’t that be easier? You can’t possibly want to run a lingerie shop. Sell the thing and be done with it.”
“Oh, would that I could,” he said.
Unfortunately, no one would buy a business that hadn’t made a profit in ten years. Well, no one except his clueless sister.
She rolled her eyes.
“Betty the troll and that loony contract of hers,” Kirsty said.
Lake didn’t correct her. If she wanted to think it was the contract that stopped him and not the state of the business, then that was fine with him. The fewer people who knew it was a mess, the better. That way it would be easier to sell once he got it back in the black.
“I’d love to get my hands on her nephew.” Kirsty’s voice broke into his thoughts. “That man needs a good hiding.”
It took a minute for Lake to catch up with the conversation, and when he did a flush of heat worked up from his stomach to his head.
“If you want to get your hands on a man,” he told her, “I’m available.”
Her eyes widened.
“That’s not going to happen,” she said tightly.
Lake shrugged.
“I’m not even suggesting that I get you out of that underwear you’re so attached to. I’m just saying that I’m here. If you want me. To do with as you will.”
Her mouth opened and closed like a hooked fish. Lake smiled confidently, aware that every time she saw him she’d replay his words. He’d wear her down by default.
“It’s no big deal,” he said as he took a step closer to her, lowering his voice under the din of the bar. “Lovers by night. Enemies by day. It’s in all the best spy movies.”
“I don’t want to be your lover.” It would have been slightly more convincing if she hadn’t stumbled over the word and flushed bright pink at the same time.
Lake cocked an eyebrow, feeling pretty pleased with himself. Kirsty frowned.
“Don’t think you can wear me down, either. Guys with a lot more finesse than you’ve shown have chased after me. If I can resist them, I sure as heck can resist you.”
“I don’t plan to mention it again. I’m just going to wait. I’ll be right in front of you. Watching you think about me. Watching you think about what we could do together. How we could be together. I won’t need to say anything. It’s all going to happen in your head.”
She threw up her hands in exasperation.
“I’ll tell you something. All of this”—she waved her hand in front of him to signal that she meant him, not her—”is happening in your head, not mine. My head is empty, thank you very much.”
Lake grinned widely.
“Auch, I mean...” She poked him in the chest. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah. You want me.”
“In your dreams.”
“Yep, there too.”
“You are the most annoying man I’ve ever met and I don’t have time to deal with your many psychological problems. I’m going home.”
With that, she was gone. Lake found himself grinning at the door as it swung shut behind her.
(cover link to Goodreads)
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