I bury myself in work for the next couple of weeks. I give Pied Piper Books my all, coming up with brilliant plans and executing them with results beyond anything Piper or I could have hoped for.
New customers come into the store daily. Most of them are locals, but a good chunk of them are visitors or tourists who tell us a friend or family member recommended the store, or they saw our Instagram account and had to visit. We work on our plans to add in the café, talking about potentially expanding the store later this year or next year and having an official bookstore-slash-café. We work with local artists to carry their goods—candles, paintings, jewelry—and launch a campaign to stock an entire section of indie and self-published books. I’m a machine, churning out ideas, eating, sleeping, and breathing Pied Piper Books.
I’m searching Instagram for new bookish hashtags when a text from Hugh pops up.
I hear Piper will be able to retire early from all the money the bookstore is bringing in, thanks mostly to you.
I smile. Things have carried on as usual with us over the last two weeks. Every time my brain tries to veer into ‘what if’ territory I switch into bookstore mode and replace those thoughts with my to-do list. It’s been working so far. Mostly. I’m not quite ready to let Hugh go.
We’re thinking about leaving the store to the others for a couple weeks and running off somewhere together, I text back.
I hear Scotland is nice this time of year…
Funny, I’ve heard that too.
I wait, breath catching in my throat. This is his chance to invite me to visit him. To say something or make some grand gesture to let me know he still wants me. Still wants us.
My phone buzzes and I nearly fumble it in my haste to see his reply. Except it’s not a reply from Hugh, it’s an email notification. I swipe over to my inbox and now my breath hitches for another reason. It’s a reply from a publicist I’ve been in contact with recently.
My eyes sweep over the email. My hands start shaking so hard, the phone slips from my fingers. Piper walks into the room as I’m scooping it from the floor, and her brow furrows in concern. Before she can ask what’s wrong, I thrust my phone at her. Watching her face as she reads the email is priceless; it transforms from confused to hopeful to elated in the span of thirty seconds.
She grabs my shoulders and starts jumping around. “Oh Ivy, I could kiss you!” She releases me abruptly to reread the email, her whole body vibrating with excitement. “I can’t believe you got them to say yes. This is huge. This is next level, wildest dreams huge.”
I’m smiling so hard my face aches. It’s not every day a world-renowned, bestselling author agrees to add your little bookstore to their tour stops because they’ve heard about you through the social media grapevine. I’m half tempted to pinch myself to see if I’m dreaming.
Piper gasps. “We have so much to do!” She shoves my phone back into my hands and begins pacing. “We need to start spreading the word immediately. We need to order as many copies of her books as we can, and get the book club people involved. Should I hire a caterer? We should make this a big, fancy thing, right? I can’t serve alcohol, but I can serve food and non-alcoholic drinks, and maybe a signature mocktail? Oh god, I’m going to start hyperventilating.”
“Piper.” I stand in front of her, stopping her pacing with gentle hands on her shoulders. “I know two weeks isn’t a long time, but we’re going to make this the most incredible, memorable event this bookstore—hell, this city—has ever seen. Okay? Don’t forget who you’re talking to here.”
Her whole body slumps forward and her forehead meets my shoulder. “Of course. You’re right. I know you’ll work your magic. It’s what you do best.”
*****
“Would you accept payment of my firstborn child for the magic you performed here tonight?”
Laughing, I turn to face Piper, wrapping my arms around her. Over her shoulder, I see what I’ve been trying to process for the last hour: Pied Piper Books is packed almost to capacity. I keep thinking I’m going to blink and everyone will disappear, as if it’s all a mirage. God knows after two solid weeks of working night and day, I’m exhausted enough I could be imagining all of this.
Piper gives me a squeeze and releases me. “I can’t believe we pulled it off.” Her beautiful brown eyes shimmer with tears. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you did to make this happen.”
“It was my pleasure, honestly. I got to flex my creative muscles, and it all came together perfectly.” I cast my gaze around the room, taking in the glowing fairy lights and LED-lit paper lanterns. I loosely recreated the cover of Andrea James’s latest novel, Prairie Summer, which is set at a ranch-turned-B&B in Alberta.
I roped Meredith into helping me source a photo booth and props like cowboy hats, small-scale artificial hay bales that can be used as seats, a variety of bandanas, and other miscellaneous items. It’s been a total hit, with a lineup of people waiting to have their picture taken. Pied Piper Books has been working its way toward becoming ‘Instagram famous’ and this is going to really set us apart.
“I think I need another cup of the Prairie Punch,” Piper says. “It’s addictive, even without alcohol.”
“Pinterest win,” I say in a singsong voice. We hired a caterer to provide a variety of finger foods, including oversized cupcakes with mini replicas of the book cover and tiny edible cowboy hats. People are already tagging us on Instagram with pictures of those.
Piper does a little finger wave and disappears into the crowd. I watch her weave through dozens of people, stopping to talk to several of them. From the way her cheeks flush, I know she’s getting a lot of praise for pulling off such a stellar event. Ms. James did a reading followed by a Q&A, and she’s been signing books for the last half hour. We’ve sold so many copies of her new book, along with her backlist, I have a feeling we’re going to sell out.
I surreptitiously check my phone. No new messages. I heard from Hugh last night; he wished me luck and said he knew the event would be great. I expected to hear from him today too. It’s already well after midnight in Scotland, though, so I guess I should stop checking my phone. I sigh as I slip it back into the pocket of my dress. It’s time to make a decision, and I’m afraid it’s one that’s going to leave me with a broken heart.
For tonight, I’m going to concentrate on the good. This party has been an epic success. Ms. James is charming and down to earth. She arrived early so she could chat with Piper and me, and didn’t bat an eye when Bridget burst in and went into fangirl mode. She was warm and gracious, taking pictures and signing our books, and even offering to sign some extra stock so people who couldn’t make it to the event could still get a signed copy.
I make the rounds of the store, chatting with people and stopping to replenish the food table. I’m reaching for another cupcake—I’ve already had two, but there are a ton of them and I wouldn’t want any to go to waste—when I sense someone behind me. The place is packed and I’ve had people bumping into me or brushing against me all night, but whoever this is, their nearness sets my nerves tingling.
“Excuse me. I hear you’re the one to talk to about book recommendations.”
Every hair on my body goes on high alert. I’d know that voice anywhere. Deep, soft, accented, sexy as sin. I’ve dreamed of that voice, fantasized about it, heard it in my head when I’m alone in bed and missing his touch. My throat starts to close as I turn slowly, almost afraid of breaking the spell, terrified I really am dreaming this whole incredible night.
My eyes lock with the most beautiful moss-colored gaze I’ve ever seen. He’s here. Hugh is here. I blink several times, unable to process what this means.
“I hope those are happy tears.” He touches my cheek with his thumb. I didn’t even realize I was crying, but I feel the tears now, pouring down my cheeks. I can’t seem to form words, so I throw myself at him, locking my arms around his neck. He lifts me off the ground, holding onto me like his life depends on it.
I have no idea how much time passes. I’m lost in my own little Hugh bubble. Eventually, murmured voices and giggles start to penetrate my awareness. My eyes pop open and I see half the people in the store staring at us, some of them even snapping pictures on their phones. I catch sight of Piper, who’s watching with tears in her eyes and her hands clasped near her face.
Ms. James rises from her seat at the signing table. “Highlanders were a few books back, Ivy. Shouldn’t you have hired a cowboy?” The way she winks at me makes me think she was somehow in on this. That can’t be possible, can it? Hugh sets me down and Ms. James’s words suddenly make sense. Hugh is decked out in full Scots mode: kilt, white shirt, black vest, tie, knee socks, shiny shoes. Hot damn.
“I like this much better than your Santa suit,” I choke out. He laughs, cupping my face and bringing his smiling lips to mine in an all-too-brief kiss. “What are you doing here? How long have you been planning this? I just talked to you last night, why didn’t you tell me you were coming? How long are you staying?”
His hands are still loosely gripping my face. “I promise I’ll tell you everything, but not here. I want you to enjoy the rest of this incredible night you helped make possible, and then…well, then if you’ll have me, we’ll go back to your flat and I’ll explain everything.”
“Promise?” I cover his hands with mine, turning my face into one of his palms and kissing it.
“Promise.” He kisses me again. He’s barely released me when Piper barrels over, saying she can’t wait another second. Hugh hugs her tightly, then Bridget and Celia appear, and he hugs them too. We have our own mini reunion in the middle of Pied Piper Books, with people continuing to watch us curiously.
When the last person leaves the signing line, I pull Hugh over so he can meet our special guest. “Ms. James, this is Hugh MacKinnon. Hugh, this is—”
“Andrea. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” He takes her hand, smiling warmly.
“Wait, wait. You two already know each other?” My voice is pitched several octaves higher than usual.
“Andrea is a patron of the literacy program I run,” Hugh explains. “She’s been an advocate and loyal supporter from the beginning.”
This night is full of surprises. Ms. James can officially consider me a fan for life.
“You made quite the entrance earlier.” Andrea lifts her chin in the direction of the food table.
“Yes, apologies for that,” Hugh says ruefully. “Didn’t mean to steal attention away from your big night.”
Andrea scoffs. “Are you kidding? That’s going in my next book. Kilt and all.”
We chat with her for a while longer before she says she’d better return to her hotel and get some sleep. “This has been wonderful, Ivy,” she says, hugging me tightly. “I’ll look forward to returning to Pied Piper Books in the future. And you,” she says, turning to Hugh. “I’ll be calling you soon for an update.” With that, she heads for Piper, who has a container of cupcakes packed up and ready for her to take with her.
“I can’t believe you’re friends with Andrea James and you never told me,” I say. “Wait, you didn’t just come for the event, did you?”
“No, Ivy. The event and seeing Andrea are a bonus, but I’m here for you. I’m so proud of you.” He leans in to kiss me as I catch sight of Bridget approaching. I turn my head and Hugh ends up planting a kiss on my cheek.
Bridget giggles. “Sorry, bad timing. I wanted to tell you Piper said for you two to take off.”
“But there’s so much cleanup to do,” I say, waving a hand around.
“There is, isn’t there?” She purses her lips and gazes around the store, which is a hot mess now that most people have left. Books need to be reshelved, and the food and decorations need to be cleared. “Good thing you have a team of friends who are willing to step up and get it done so you two can get out of here.”
“Oh, and I’ll be spending the night with Bridget,” Celia calls from the food table, where she’s standing with Meredith, stuffing her face with mini quiches. My gaze slides back to Bridget, who nods.
Last year, Celia had nothing but animosity toward my best friend, and now there are times when I’m afraid the two of them are going to officially declare themselves besties for life. Despite the occasional twinge of jealousy, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love the relationship they’ve forged this year.
“Go,” Meredith calls. “If you don’t emerge in the next few days, we’ll send a search party for you.”
Another round of hugs and kisses ensues, and then I gather my signed books and a container of food Piper insists I take with me, and we leave. In the parking lot, I look around for Hugh’s familiar SUV. He explains he had a car drive him from the airport to his apartment, then took a taxi here. It takes all my concentration to get us home without swerving into oncoming traffic. I keep looking at Hugh in the passenger seat, checking to make sure he’s really there.
Back at my apartment, I’m forced to share Hugh for a little while longer while Fiddlesticks gets her cuddles in. Looks like I’m not the only one who missed him. Finally, I’m able to lure her away with treats. I’m done sharing.
Hugh rises from the couch and meets me halfway between the kitchen and living room. “You have so much explaining to do,” I tell him.
“I know. I—”
He doesn’t get any further than that before I cover his mouth with mine. His moan of surprise turns to one of pleasure as I kiss him hard and deep, wrapping myself around him. “Take me to bed?” It comes out sounding uncertain. We’ve been apart for nearly four painfully long months. As much as I want answers, I want him naked and inside me more.
He hoists me up like he did our first night together and carries me to my room. I busy myself covering every inch of his face and neck in kisses, making a low laugh rumble through him. He deposits me on the bed and stands in front of me, planting his hands on his hips.
“Giving me another minute to admire you?” I ask. His lips twitch. “Because I’m not opposed. Feel free to use this space as a catwalk, do a little turn, whatever you like.” I wriggle back on the bed and cross my legs, watching him.
“Very funny.” God, I’ve missed his voice. And his face. Phone calls and occasionally seeing him on a small screen don’t do him justice. He’s meant to be enjoyed live and in color. “D’you know what kilts are made of, love?”
I tilt my head, examining the material. “I’ve never given it much thought. I haven’t seen one in person before. Although I was watching the special features on the Outlander DVD one day and it showed how they put them on.”
“Lie on the ground and roll into it?” he asks and I nod. “This is a modern kilt. Basically a long strip of material that folds over on either side and is belted in place. Thing is, said material is wool.”
“Gah!” I inch further onto the bed, away from him.
“Exactly.”
“I guess you’ll just have to do a strip tease for me,” I say in an airy voice. “Should I put on some music?”
“It appears you’ve gotten even sassier since I left.” As he speaks, he begins undoing the buttons on his vest. “I like it.” I smile vaguely, falling silent as I watch him. He hasn’t even bared an inch of skin yet, but I’m hypnotized. He unclips his tie and removes it, then works the buttons on his shirtsleeves. “No snappy comeback?”
I push myself to my knees and motion him forward. His hands have moved to the top button of his shirt, and I brush them aside. “I’ve always loved doing this part.” I slip each button free, kissing his chest as I go. When I free the last button, he pulls his shirttails from the kilt. I run my hands over his chest and stomach, my fingers lingering where the kilt meets his belly button. “Okay. Carry on.” I flop back on the bed, resuming my cross-legged position.
He removes his shoes and socks first. The sight of him in nothing but the kilt nearly takes my breath away. I remember the first time I ever saw a man in a kilt on TV; I was a kid and I thought it was hilarious that a man was wearing a skirt. Since then, I’ve learned about the symbolism and meaning, and I have to admit watching Outlander has definitely brought me around to the side of kilt lovers. But those Highlanders have nothing on mine.
He undoes the first set of buckles and part of the material falls away. He meets my eyes as he reaches for the fastener on the other side. I bite my lip to hold back a smile; it feels like he’s unwrapping a present.
Oh yeah, this is like Christmas morning and my birthday and every other holiday all combined into one, because when the last buckle is freed and the material falls away, I finally learn what’s under the kilt: nothing.
Hugh carefully drapes the kilt over the chair behind him. He turns back, and then it’s on. I’m up on my knees again by the time he reaches the edge of the bed. My clothes seem to disappear in the blink of an eye. I barely process him scrambling in my bedside drawer for a condom before we fall to the mattress together, a tangle of limbs, roaming hands, and hungry mouths. Hugh growls when he finds me wet and ready, and his fingers drive me to a blinding orgasm with lightning speed.
I’m still gasping for breath when I grip his shoulders and flip him onto his back. He looks up at me with wide eyes and a wider smile. I bend to kiss him as I straddle him, letting my hair fall over his chest and shoulders. His fingers tangle in the strands until his palm finds the back of my neck and starts massaging. My own hands glide over his chest, playing with his nipples until he gasps and moans in that way that seems completely, wonderfully involuntary. The power could easily go to my head.
My hand snakes down further, finding its target. I wrap my fingers around him, moving them from tip to root and repeating the process until he’s bucking against me.
“Ivy,” he growls, his voice holding a hint of warning.
Part of me wants to prolong this. But the other part of me, the part powered mostly by the throbbing ache in my core, wants the connection that comes only from one thing. Taking the condom from where he dropped it on the bed, I sheath him. I position myself over him and guide him inside me, my muscles shaking with restraint as I slowly slide down his length until our bodies meet.
We sigh in unison. My eyes slip closed, then open again to find Hugh watching me with a look that makes me want to cry. Desire, yes, but also adoration and admiration. I swoop down to press my mouth to his. He grips my hips and lets me take the lead, sliding up and down his length at my pace, rocking forward with each thrust so my clit gets the attention it needs. Time ceases to exist as our bodies move together.
My hips jerk, moving faster. He chokes out my name and pulls me forward, his fingers moving to my center as he drives into me, taking over. It’s only moments before we’re both coming, our bodies locked, gasped breaths mingling as our mouths meet again.
I collapse on top of him. His hands slide over my back and hips, covering every inch before his arms close around me. “God, I missed you,” he says, his breath tickling my ear.
I close my eyes tightly, burying my face in his neck and murmuring, “I missed you too. So much.” I free myself from his hold and move off him, rolling right to the end of the bed and standing. “You must be exhausted after a long day of traveling.”
One side of his mouth quirks. “I don’t think I’m too tired for whatever you have in mind.”
*****
An hour and several orgasms later, I’m wrapped in my housecoat and Hugh is wearing a pair of sweatpants he forgot here before he left for Scotland. I carry two cups of steaming, fragrant tea to the living room. The second I’ve set them on the table, Hugh pulls me into his lap, his arms enfolding me and his lips finding my throat.
“I brought you some shortbread from Scotland,” he says, nipping at my shoulder. “That, and a few other things I hope you’ll like.”
“I’ve already got my favorite thing from Scotland right here,” I tell him. “But you know I never turn down cookies or presents.”
His laugh ruffles my hair.
I reluctantly pry myself away from him and move off his lap to see him better. I pick up my cup of tea so I won’t be tempted to launch myself at him. Again. “I have so many questions, I don’t know where to begin. I guess I’ll start with the one I want answered least: when are you going back to Scotland?”
He picks up his own tea. “Next week.” My heart drops. His eyes dart to mine, and I’m surprised to find him smiling. “I’ll only be there long enough to pack up my things before returning to Bellevue.”
My hands start to shake. Hugh sets his tea aside and gently takes my cup from me. “Y-you’re coming back?” I stammer. “To stay? For how long?”
“Well, except for the occasional trip back to Scotland, including this autumn for my sister’s wedding, I’ll be here indefinitely.” He’s smiling broadly now. I can’t feel my face, so I have no idea whether my lips are turned up or down or even if I’m crying, which I suspect I might be.
“I’ve been in negotiations with the city since I left,” he says. “I appealed their decision not to give me the permits I need for the Village. While that was going through the court systems, I made solid plans for what I want the Village to be in a year-round capacity—a place for everyone, with stores, eateries, games, rides, regular events. I spoke to businesses and architects, local politicians, zoning committees. And when it looked like it was all going to fall through yet again, I pulled out the big guns.”
He pauses. When he sees I’m still struck speechless, his lips twitch, and he continues. “Do you remember seeing the mayor at the Village this past Christmas?” I nod; I’d seen her there several times, usually with just her little girl, but occasionally with her wife too. “Her daughter, Sasha, was enamored with the Village. Wanted to spend every waking moment there. She booked a standing reservation for breakfast with Santa every weekend, and brought Sasha herself to most of them. We became friendly, and she liked my plans to expand, but I never asked her to do anything in an official capacity. Until recently, anyway.”
He leans over and takes both my hands in his. “There was a hearing today to decide whether I’d get the permits needed to reopen the Village and make it a year-round park. I wanted to be here in person for it so I could get the ball rolling if everything went as planned. And even if it fell through, I needed to see you.”
“Why didn’t you tell my any of this? You’ve been working on this for months and never said a word.”
He grimaces. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up until I knew something for certain. I knew you were feeling sore because I’d become distant, but I was working night and day on plans, along with my actual job, plus family obligations. But I knew it was time to come back, one way or the other, whatever happened. I had a terrible need to see you. Touch you, kiss you.” He bends forward, bringing my hands to his mouth. His eyes close as his lips linger on my skin.
When he opens his eyes again, they remain steady on mine. “I have a few more appointments with my attorneys and more paperwork to sign, but the Village is officially mine to do with as I please year round.” He must anticipate my reaction because he opens his arms to catch me when I leap at him. Laughter and tears spill out of me. My entire body is shaking. As I clutch Hugh to me, I realize he’s shaking too.
“There’s more.” His arms loosen, and I reluctantly allow him to release me. “I want the Village to be ours. With your marketing and social media expertise, the place would be a hit. I want you to continue having your own life—you’ve done amazing things while I was away, and I know a lot has changed. I’m so proud of you, Ivy.”
He reaches out to swipe some of my tears away before continuing. “I know you love the bookstore and I want you to keep working there, but I want you to work with me too. Is that something you’d consider? Being part of the Village in its new incarnation?”
I don’t even need time to consider it. “Of course it is. If I could work full-time at Quest and still do elf duty every night, I can make this work. At least I’ll be doing something I love. With…with the person I love.”
He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I want us to be partners in every sense of the word, Ivy. I’m ready to commit to you, to us. No more no-label relationship, no more trying not to get attached. I failed miserably at that months ago and broke my own rules by falling for you. Now I want it all. If that’s what you want.”
I press my lips together, but nothing I do can stop more tears from flowing. “I’m in. I’m all in. The business, you, us.” I suck in air, trying to calm my racing heart and rein in the unsteadiness of my voice. “But I’m a package deal. I need you to know I come with Bridget, Celia, and Fiddlesticks. Meredith and Piper too, but they were your friends before they were mine.”
His bright smile gives me my answer before he speaks. “I love you, Ivy, and I accept the whole package. All of it. Happily.”
I climb into his lap and wrap myself around him. “Looks like you’ve made two life-changing deals today, then. Mine doesn’t require paperwork and a signature, though. Just a kiss to seal the deal.”
He covers my smiling mouth with his. Things progress quickly, as they have all night, but I have a sudden flash of something that was a point of contention for me recently when I was having a bad day. I pull away and ask, “Am I ever going to see your apartment?”
He laughs, bewildered. “I’ll take you there tomorrow if you like. It isn’t much, but now that I’m here mostly for good, I’m thinking I ought to buy a house. I don’t want to rush you or pressure you, but I want you to help me pick it so I know you’re happy with it. I want you to think of it as your home too for when the time comes and we’re ready for that step.” He kisses one cheek, then the other. “And even though it’s last minute, I was also thinking you might take a few days off and come to Scotland with me while I pack up. It’d be a quick trip, but then I was hoping you’d accompany me to my sister’s wedding this autumn. Maybe we could take a few weeks and see a good portion of Scotland and anywhere else you want to go.”
Scotland. In a few days, and again in a few months. I can barely contain the excitement rising up my chest. “Of course I’ll go with you. I’ll go with you anywhere, Hugh. But right now, I need you to take me back to bed. I’ve thought of another way to seal the deal.”
His lips twitch. “As you wish, my love.” I squeal as he stands, taking me with him. Our giddy laughter echoes all the way down the hall to my bedroom.