Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

“Tattie scones.”

We left the bar, making sure it was locked tight, then strolled down Royal Mile.

“You do realize there are other breakfast foods, right?” Kirby asked in a wry tone.

“All others dim in comparison.”

“Right. Tattie scones it is. Speaking of scones… you owe me a bottle of Speyside whisky.” He tugged my hand, causing me to bump his shoulder as we walked.

“Ugh, that’s right. Stupid haggis.”

“Hey! It’s not stupid. You liked it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Put it on my tab.” I winked at him.

“Ha, ha.”

“I thought so. Where are we going anyway, I’m starving and walking is making me even more hungry.”

“Impatient.”

“Always.”

“Somehow, this isn’t surprising.”

“Food, not banter.”

Kirby chuckled and opened the door of a small café. The scent of baking bread, sausage, and potatoes made my mouth water.

“I want it all.”

He pulled out a wooden chair for me at a small table by the window.

“Thanks.”

After he took his own seat, he pulled out menus stuck next to the salt and pepper. “Everything here is good. I used to eat here when I worked at the pub.”

I glanced at the menu, zeroing in on the option with tattie scones and sausage.

“Church!” A woman with gray-streaked hair approached the table. She smacked the back of his head with her pad of paper then pulled him into a hug.

“Hi, Sharon.” Kirby returned her hug.

“’Tis been far too long! How’ve ye been?” Her gray eyes were kind. The lines on her face were etched from far too many smiles and immediately I liked her.

“Good, good. This here is Merry.” He gestured to me.

“Ach! A lass! About time! Since Clairia and all!”

At the mention of the name Clairia, Kirby’s face drained of color, and the smile he wore melted off like snow on a hot skillet.

Sharon didn’t seem to notice. I wasn’t sure if Kirby wanted her to see how the name had affected him, so I stood and pulled her into a hug, turning her slightly so I could see his face. I mouthed, “Are you okay?”

He nodded, cleared his throat and forced a smile — one that didn’t reach his eyes.

“It’s lovely to meet you.” I released Sharon, offering a warm smile.

“American? Well I never thought I’d see the day.” She smiled and patted my cheek with her palm. “Well, I’m thinking you’re a wantin’ breakfast?” She pulled the pencil from behind her ear and tapped her notepad.

“Aye, Merry here will take a plate of your famous tatties and I’ll take the usual.”

“Tatties? Just tatties?” Her gaze flickered from Kirby to me and back.

“And sausage… and bacon too if you have it,” I added.

Sharon leaned in slightly toward Kirby. “I like this one.” Then she left.

“I like her too. How do you know her?” I asked, burning with curiosity about who the Clairia person was, but knowing now probably wasn’t the time to ask.

Damn it.

“She’s the mother of a close friend.” He cleared his throat and glanced away.

I cocked my head, studying him, watching how he was avoiding eye contact. “I can play that… for now.”

His eyes shot to mine then narrowed. “’Tis a long story.”

“I have a whole plate of tatties with my name on it. It’s not exactly going to be a short breakfast,” I challenged.

“It’s… complicated.”

“I’m best-friends with Roxi. Complicated is my middle name. For pity’s sake, Kirby.” I rolled my eyes.

He took a deep breath. “It’s not important.”

Sharon came and gave us glasses of ice water and two mugs with steaming coffee. “I ken he dinna like milk, but wasn’t a sure about you, lass. Here it ’tis, if ye need it.” And she left again.

I added a bit of milk to my coffee and took a sip. “Better than sex.”

Kirby coughed. “Now if I’d actually slept with you, I might be offended. Since that’s not the case, I’ll leave it alone.”

I waved his words away dismissively, but I most assuredly caught the fact that we didn’t actually sleep together.

Whew.

But oddly, the relief wasn’t that it hadn’t happened, rather it was relief that it didn’t happen and me not remember it. I mean, if I actually had sex with Kirby, I wanted to damn well remember it.

“Back to your long story…” I took another sip of coffee.

He leaned back in his chair, dragging his fingers through his hair and then wiping his hand down his face. “Sharon is Clairia’s mum.”

“Okay. And who is Clairia?” I held my breath. Some strange emotion close to jealousy swirled in my chest and I pushed against it, waiting. I lifted my mug and took a sip, trying to distract myself.

“She was my wife.”

I choked on my coffee. The tickle in my throat kept me from breathing, but all I could think was holy shit Kirby’s married!

And that he couldn’t be.

Because he was mine.

“Say what?” I choked out.

“Was, Merry. Was.” He handed me a napkin and took my coffee away. “You can’t be trusted with this.”

“Give. It. Back.”

“Take. A. Breath.”

“Wait. What do you mean was?” Were they divorced? Separated? Did she die? Holy shit, did Kirby have kids? My heart started to pound far too fast.

“Saints above, Merry you look like you’re going to pass out.” He dipped his fingers in his ice water and flicked it at me.

I glared.

But it worked, slowly my heart slowed down and I tried to listen.

“Clairia died about a month after we were married.” He shifted in his seat then played with his fork, pulling the tines back and forth.

“I’m sorry.” My heart sank. How did someone survive something so heartbreaking? “How did she pass?”

Don’t let it be cancer. I know it’s selfish, but all I could think of was “A Walk to Remember,” or “The Fault in our Stars.” And seriously, who wanted to compete with that?

“Car accident.” He nodded once. “She was, uh…” He took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck again. “She was with someone else.”

“Someone else?” I could hear my own heartbeat.

“One of my friends.”

“Okay. Was your friend injured?”

He tapped the table with this finger; tap, tap, tap.

And Sharon came out of the kitchen with two plates, one piled high with sausage, bacon and tattie scones.

And I was anything but hungry.

“Thanks.” I tried to smile but I knew it didn’t make it to my eyes. Sharon gave me a curious glance but left after everything was settled.

I toyed with my food, but I couldn’t make myself eat.

“Are you going to finish the story?” I finally asked, trying to be considerate when really I just wanted to know the end!

“She was with Bryon, they spent the weekend together and got in the accident on the way back to Edinburgh. Neither one made it out alive from the crash.”

“When you say together…”

He met my gaze with a wry one of his own.

“Oh… that sucks, Kirby.” My heart hurt for him, and I wanted to bitch slap Clairia — dead or not.

His laughter broke through my tension like a hammer on ice and I slowly felt my world right itself again. “’Twas more than five years ago, Merry. I don’t exactly like to talk about it, but I’m not bitter. I was… but not anymore.” He shrugged and picked up his fork, attacking his food with abandon.

“Wow, that’s great.” I cleared my throat, glanced to my food then back to Kirby.

“It is what it is.” He glanced up and met my gaze. “Life is what you make of it, Merry. I’ll not let someone’s stupidity ruin my life.”

His clear blue eyes were completely transparent to his soul, and I knew he meant every word he said. But how did a person move past something so crippling? I mean, I’d been all butt hurt over the stupid millionaire guy — what was his name? It made my problems seem pretty small.

“That’s really great, Kirby.”

“You know you said that already.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I ken I shocked you a wee bit, but it ’twas nothing you wouldn’t have found out sooner or later. I’m just glad you heard it from me — so you can see that I’m truly, as you put it, great.” He reached across the table, stealing one of my tattie scones.

“Men have died for less,” I muttered.

“If you can eat that whole plate, I’ll…” He leaned back in his chair. “I’ll strip naked and sing ‘God bless America.’”

“Worth it.”

“Wait — I didn’t actually mean—”

But it was too late. The banter had brought back my appetite. Just knowing that Kirby was over it, made me okay too.

Plus, seeing Kirby naked — again — and hearing him belt ‘God Bless America’? Yeah, I’d probably sell a kidney for that.

“Merry! Slow down.” He shook his head and leaned forward across the table. “If ye want to see my naked glory lass, all you need to do is ask.” He gave me a confident grin and leaned back, crossing his thick arms and watching me in amusement.

I chewed and swallowed. “Actually, it’s the singing part. You hated that song growing up.”

“Damn, you remember that, eh?” He glanced away in annoyance.

I took another bite. “Yup.”

Kirby simply shook his head and resumed eating his own breakfast, all the while casting calculating glances toward me. The tattie scones were incredible, but I was pretty sure they were deep fried and if I finished the whole plate — which was considerable, especially when I included the strips of bacon and links of sausage — I was going to be one sick girl.

“You give up?”

I lifted another scone. My body revolted, and I almost gagged.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

I shook my head and held up a finger. “Wait.”

“Waiting.” He folded his hands over his plate and smirked.

The scones were so good, but I was at my limit.

As it was, I didn’t think I’d eat for a week.

But to lose? To Kirby?

Shit.

I had already lost to him in gin rummy — my pride could only take so much!

“If you eat that, the only thing you’ll be watching is the toilet flush as you lose your breakfast.”

I sighed, unable to take a deep breath because my stomach was so full. “I know. But I hate losing… so much.” I lifted the scone. Then with a sigh of defeat, I tossed it onto the plate. “You win.”

“What?”

“You win,” I repeated, reaching for my water and hoping it did something to calm the storm in my stomach.

“Yeah, I get that… but what do I win? We never set up a proper wager.”

“Nothing. The satisfaction of winning — again — should be enough for your ego.”

He seemed to consider that. “Nah, not enough. I need something more. What’ch ya got?” He patted the table with his hands expectantly.

“Indigestion?” I answered with a weak smile.

“That is all your fault — and as such does not exclude you from paying your dues.”

“Ugh! I don’t know! What do you want?” I leaned back in my chair, not caring that my stomach was oddly round.

“IOU.”

“Huh? Another one?”

“Ah ha! That’s right! I already have one. Yes, I want two.”

“Why? Why did I remind you?” I lamented.

“Because you’re honest.”

“Because I’m an idiot.”

“That too.”

“Are we done?”

“Since you tried to eat your body weight in potatoes, yeah, I think we should have been done a while ago. But I must say it was very entertaining watching you stuff yourself sick.”

“I need to walk.”

Kirby’s laughter echoed in the still sparsely populated restaurant. Sharon must have heard it and she approached us with our bill. “Here ye go. I gave you the usual discount.” She winked a Kirby.

“Sharon, you canno—”

“I did and will. Now go and take this lovely lass out somewhere with some fresh air.” She leaned in slightly and whispered. “She looks like she needs it.”

Kirby snickered.

I glared.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, now, won’t I?” Sharon speared him with a gaze that warned against argument.

Kirby nodded and pulled her into a hug.

“Let’s go, lass.” He reached for my hand and started toward the door.

“Wait, Merry, is it?” Sharon took a few steps toward me, then paused, her gaze darting between Kirby and me. “You, give us a moment.” She shooed him away with her hand.

He narrowed his eyes but gave us some distance.

“Lass, I dinna know you… but I thank you. ’Tis been a long while since I’ve heard him laugh like that. ’Twas good for my heart, it was. And I thank ye.” She pulled me into a tight hug that smelled of tattie scones and vanilla, then released me. She gave me a watery smile before she ducked away toward the kitchen.

“What did she say?” Kirby asked from behind me, close enough that his breath brushed by my ear, tickling it, warming it.

“None of your business,” I answered, spun around him and walked toward the door.

“Give me one moment.” I watched and Kirby went back to our table, pulled out several bills, and laid them down. “Let’s go before she sees me.” He rushed back to me, grasped my hand, and pulled me out the door.

“What did you do?” I asked as we slowed down to a relaxing pace.

His blue eyes twinkled. “None of your business.”

“Fine. I deserve that.”

“Yes. You do. Now…” He led us across the Royal Mile and back up toward where we parked. “About that IOU. The first one, mind you.”

“Yeah?” The steep hill made me out of breath.

“You need to do more cardio.”

“I need to stop eating tattie scones,” I corrected.

“Both. You need both.”

“Fine! Why are you so bossy?”

“Because my ideas are better than yours,” he answered immediately.

I snorted. “Don’t give any thought to the answer or anything.”

“Tell me this.” He clicked the fob for the car and it chirped as it unlocked. “What’s wrong with being bossy?” He opened the car door for me and waited till I was in then shut it.

While he walked around, I thought of my answer. “Because when you’re bossy, you’re telling me what to do. I’m an adult.”

“And?”

“And? And I know what to do!”

He pulled out into traffic and flipped a U-turn so that we were going back down the Royal Mile. “Is that so? Then I’d have to say you’re quite arrogant.”

“What? Why? Because I have my own opinion? Because I can take care of myself?”

“Let me ask you this. What’s wrong with someone taking care of you?” His eyes never left the road, but his hands twisted the leather of the steering wheel making it squeak.

“Well… nothing as long as it’s taking care of me, not controlling.”

“And where’s the line?”

“I… hmm. Let me think.”

“Merry… someone who controls you is looking out for their own benefit and how you contribute to it, based on your actions or reactions. When you are taking care of someone, it’s an act of selflessness. Thinking and acting on the behalf of the other person despite its possible negative impact on yourself.”

The sound of the engine was the only break in the silence of the car as I processed what he said. “You’re right. That’s actually a pretty perfect example.”

“So that brings me back to my question. Merry, what’s wrong with being taken care of?” His blue eyes darted from the road to mine, spearing through me.”

“Nothing.”

“Good.” He nodded and turned right onto a different street.

“What does that have to do with the IOU?” I asked, oddly curious.

He glanced to me. “Absolutely nothing. Just making my point.” He turned back to the road. “Honestly, I’m thinking I’ll just keep the two IOU’s in my pocket for the moment. ’Tis nothing I need from you, and you never know when I’ll come across a perfect opportunity.”

“I need to put a time limit on these IOU’s. You can’t pull them from your ass when you’re seventy.”

“Fine, fine. What do you suggest?”

I thought about it. Technically, I was to be in Scotland for two weeks — a week for each guy — but with ticket prices, we got a better deal if we changed that to ten days total, which left me with only five left. Huh, that seemed like a really short amount of time. I glanced to Kirby, studying his profile. I was really going to miss him.

Miss this.

“If you think any harder you’re going to start smoking from your ears.”

Yes, really, really miss this. I rolled my eyes. “Before I leave.”

“And how long do I have to endure the punishment of your presence?” Kirby asked with a grin.

“Not nearly long enough to account for your many sins.” I smiled sweetly in return.

“True. Cannot argue with that.” He shrugged and pulled a left onto the street of my hotel. “But in days…”

“Five,” I said quietly.

“Five,” he repeated, his tone soft like mine. “I think I can come up with two IOU’s in five days.”

“Good… I think.”

He pulled into the first space in front of the hotel and put the car in park.

“It’s okay, I got it from here.” I opened my door and stepped onto the curb.

Kirby tossed his keys to the valet and reached for my hand as we walked up the stairs. “While I’m quite sure you’re capable of taking care of yourself, I made a promise to Sharon that I’d get you some air. And knowing you, once you get to your hotel room you’ll flip on Netflix and not move for the next several hours.”

“Will not.” I hated that he knew exactly what I was planning.

“You need to move.”

“I need to — fine. I know. I need to move.” I whimpered a bit.

“Don’t be such a pansy. You’ll thank me later.”

I pressed the elevator button. “Will not.” The elevator dinged and we entered. I cocked my head as I studied him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted to be around me, Kirby.”

“Good thing you know better.”

“Yeah, well. It’s okay. Your secret is safe with me.” I winked.

“Can you find your key? Because if you can’t there’s always mine.” He slipped it from his pocket and waved it tauntingly.

“Keep it. After last night I’m pretty sure any sort of privacy is out the window.” I shrugged and walked out the open elevator doors and down the hall.

I waved to the door and waited. Kirby’s lips twitched in a grin as he unlocked the door and held it open for me.

“I think this should be considered an IOU fulfillment,” I mentioned as I tossed my purse on the bed as usual.

“Nope. I didn’t ask, you offered. It’s completely different.”

“There was no offer, you lied and stole,” I enunciated.

“Still doesn’t count.”

“Fine. I’m taking a shower. Make yourself… at home?” I unzipped my suitcase and pulled out fresh clothes as Kirby flopped onto the bed and turned on ESPN.

He blew me a kiss as I glared at him.

I wanted to be on that bed… watching Netflix.

Damn him.

But honestly, I wanted a shower more.

And maybe some Tums so my stomach would stop doing a weird gurgling thing.

The hot water — however low pressure it might be — felt amazing and it was like all the whisky and tattie scones washed down the drain along with the dirt. I took my time drying my hair and putting on makeup then dressing. I clicked the bathroom door open and walked out into the room.

Kirby’s whistle greeted me. “You clean up nice.”

“Why, thank you.” I tossed my dirty clothes into a bag.

“Here. This will help with your stomach.” He handed me a mug with steaming tea, not black but a greenish color.

“Thanks.”

“’Tis nothing.” He picked up his own mug and blew across the top, sending the steam swirling. “Feel better?”

“Like I’m alive, not the walking dead.”

“I’d say that’s an improvement.”

“To say the least.” I took a sip, savoring the wonderful aroma and flavor of the green tea tips.

“You ready to go?” He asked as I finished my tea.

“Do I have another option?”

“No.”

“Figured. Let’s go then.” I stood and grabbed my purse and walked out the door.

“First stop, my flat.”

I whistled. “Your place? Wow… I feel honored.”

“You should.”

We took the elevator down to the lobby, and in no time were speeding down the road toward the older part of Edinburgh.

“So where you do you live?”

“In Edinburgh.”

“I missed that.”

He smiled and turned left down a tree-lined street. “Just a few minutes away actually.”

“So all those times you snuck into my room—”

“It was convenient.”

“All I can think of is how you’re such a pain in the ass but it seems I’m always saying that! I obviously need to expand my vocabulary when it comes to annoying turn phrases.”

“Expanding your mind. I approve.”

I twisted my lips. “Really.”

“Sarcasm isn’t pretty.”

“We’re done with this conversation.”

“I win again.”

“Not a competition!”

“Everything is, Merry. Everything.” He turned to go down into a lower parking garage. He swiped a card and parked in a wide spot designated for 11B.

“Wait.” He got out of the car and I watched, curious.

He opened my door and offered me his hand. “Okay, now you can get out. I know you’re perfectly capable of opening your door, but really… what’s the fun of being gentleman if you can’t actually act like one?”

Valid. “Thank you.”

Once we got to the elevator, Kirby pressed the button for the top floor.

“Must have a killer view.”

“It’s okay.”

The sound of quiet elevator music filled the silence. “You‘re quiet.”

He turned to me just as the elevator dinged for the floor. “Silence is golden.”

“I totally agree… except I know you. And you talk more than me,” I countered then stepped out onto a lush carpeted hall with two doors, one on either end.

Kirby walked to the left, and I followed.

Once he unlocked the door, it opened to a wall of sunlight as the Edinburgh skyscape came into view.

“Holy crap,” I whispered as I walked toward the windows.

“Yeah, it’s pretty beautiful.”

“It’s amazing…” The view of the sea was breathtaking, along with all the old stone buildings — way better than any Seattle penthouse view.

“Give me just a few minutes. Make yourself at home.” He tossed his keys on some surface, startling me from my admiration of the view. I glanced around the apartment, or flat, as he called it. Dark wood floors were glossy against a stainless steel kitchen. Lush carpet supported dark leather furniture and a massive flat screen centered on the wall. It was beautiful, it was expensive, it was… sterile.

I walked around looking for pictures, any signs of life. Several books were stacked on the coffee table, and there were a few dishes in the sink. Clearly, he lived here but it was just so… cold.

And Kirby was anything but cold.

“Okay, lass I’m ready.” Kirby strutted from his room in perfectly fitting dark denim jeans and a button-up shirt.

”Whew, snazzy.”

He cocked a brow. “I know.”

“Humility looks good on you.”

He chuckled and walked into the kitchen, retrieved two water bottles from the fridge and handed me one. “Have you been to the sea yet?”

I unscrewed the top and took a long drink of the cool water. “Nope.”

“The sea it is.” He walked to the door.

“So, Kirby…” I started as I took one final glance around his apartment.

“Yes?”

“When you said you were slumming it at my hotel room… you meant it.” I tilted my head.

He glanced around to the room as if to say the answer was obvious.

“Why?”

He regarded me for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Because… just because something is expensive doesn’t mean it’s warm. Or inviting.”

I watched him for a moment, studying the contradiction. “Kirby?”

He tucked his hands in his pockets, his expression slightly guarded. “Yes?”

“You’re warm.” I walked up to him, placed my hands on his shoulders, and reached up, kissing him softly.

He returned the kiss gently. His lips caressed mine with a sweet affection that was all the more passionate because of its tenderness. “I have something I want to show you,” he spoke the words against my lips then nipped at them playfully.

“Oh?” I licked his lower lip with my tongue.

“Yeah. Come on.” He give me one final kiss and tucked my hand in his, leading us down the hallway and back to the parking garage.

“Can the sea wait?” He asked as we pulled out of the garage.

“It’s not going anywhere,” I flirted with a grin.

“Indeed, it’s not.”

“Where are we going?” I asked as he started to wind around an older part of the city.

“Home,” he answered simply. “It was my first flat in Edinburgh. If I had my way, I’d stay there always but…” He took a breath. “But an address can say a lot about you, and when you deal with real estate…”

I nodded. “Location, location, location.”

“Exactly.”

“So this place… location isn’t stellar?”

“Location sucks,” he replied with a teasing smirk. “But the flat…” His words faded. “It’s very warm.” He kept his eyes on the road, not turning to me.

“I’ll love it,” I murmured then watched through my window as the city passed.