Headed for Trouble (The McKay Family #1) (26 page)

She went to look away but he stopped her, reaching up to lay a hand on her cheek.

“Don’t look away,” he murmured.

Her throat worked as she swallowed and he rubbed a thumb over her lower lip.

“When I close my eyes, I remember how you taste.”

A soft breath escaped her.

Her eyes met his and when he leaned in, she didn’t pull away.

“But even though I remember your taste, I need more.”

*   *   *

Then stop talking and kiss me
!

Neve wished she had the nerve to tell him that. Instead, she reached up and pressed her fingertips to his lower lip. His mouth was so much softer than it appeared, his beard scratchy soft against her palm.

Curious, she stroked her fingers across it, then up to rest on his cheek, echoing the way he touched her.

When he slid his hand around to hook over the back of her neck, she didn’t even think of pulling away.

But he didn’t draw her closer, either.

Groaning in frustration, she moved in. She didn’t have a chance to process the widening of the smile on his lips. Nor did she care, because in the next breath, that mouth was on hers and heat, hunger, need swamped her.

She’d never known anything like this.

His tongue slid along her lower lip, teasing and stroked and taunted, before slipping inside. She caught the tip and bit down, felt him shake.

He pulled her onto his lap and she tensed for a moment, but just a moment, then curled into him. He curved one arm around her lower back, the other rested on her legs. Twisting her upper body, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Ian growled deep in his throat.

Neve plunged her hands into his hair and wiggled, struggling to get closer.

His teeth nipped her lower lip.

She bit his tongue.

A siren wailed.

She jumped.

She would have leaped off his lap if he hadn’t tightened his arms.

“Damn Marshall,” he muttered.

Blood rushed to her face as she dared to glance over her shoulder. Gideon was eyeing them from the street and if she wasn’t mistaken, there was an amused look on his face.

Cringing in embarrassment, she pressed her face against Ian’s neck.

“Oh, right, just sit there and smile at me, you sodding prick,” Ian said.

A laugh escaped her.

Ian stroked a hand up her back. “I expect you think we should
thank
him.”

“
Thank
him?”

She dared to lift her head, meeting his eyes. But she didn’t look anywhere else. Gideon’s car was still there. She could hear the motor.

“Well, yeah. If he hadn’t shown up, I might now be trying to get you naked.” He slid one hand to her waist and slid it up. “I can’t say I’ve ever wanted to have public sex, but you tempt me. Not to have public sex, mind you, but just to have sex—with you—here. Screw that it’s public.”

She snorted, the strangled laugh that escaped her both nervous and embarrassed. “Sure. I’ll thank him. As soon as I think I can look at him without wanting to hide.”

Ian pressed his cheek to hers and she felt his beard rub against her, a soft caress. “Don’t be wanting to hide, Neve. You think I’m embarrassed because you want me? I’d be tempted to brag about it, but my mum taught me better.”

The slow, soothing stroke of his hand up and down her back helped drain the tension and after a moment, she looked up. “I don’t see how this can be real,” she said softly, meeting his dark, warm eyes. “How can I feel like this with you? I don’t even know you.”

“Do you want to?”

“Yes.” There was no question about that. None at all.

“Sometimes people just fit, Neve.” He pressed a soft kiss to her brow and then settled her back on the bench.

She could still feel Gideon there, making a show of
not
watching them as he sat in his car. But he was very aware of them, and now she couldn’t help but be aware of him, too. Ian moved a few feet away, his hands in his back pockets as he stared out over the river. “I think we could maybe be a fit,” he said. “I think we
are
a fit, Neve. We’ll just … give it time.”

“Okay.” She licked her lips and almost shuddered as she caught the taste of him there. “I think I can handle that.”

He turned back to her, his eyes gleaming. “Right, then. Have lunch with me.”

“But we just had lunch.”

“Well, that’s the thing about lunch, darling Neve.” Holding her gaze with his, he strolled back to her and hunkered down on his knees. “You eat it every day. Just like breakfast and dinner.”

As he waited for her answer, he took her hand and nibbled at her knuckles. “Well,” she said, sort of breathless. “If you’re not already tired of me…”

“I could see you every day for a thousand years and not be tired of you.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Unless the building is on fire”—Ian took a moment to check the air—“and it isn’t, then leave me alone for a night, would ya, Morgan?”

She laughed. “No. The building isn’t on fire. “But, boss, you want to come down anyway.”

“No. I don’t.” Ian was sprawled comfortably in front of the telly, watching
Doctor Who
and munching on popcorn. He had a blissful, wonderful day away from the pub. Workaholic that he was—and he was fine with it—he only had a day and a half off each week. Brannon had told him he ought to take the weekends off, seeing as how he managed the place and would probably own it outright in a few years, but Ian liked working. He was happy with it. But he also enjoyed the one day a week he was off. Or the one day he was
supposed
to be off. He rarely managed to go that one day without being called in to handle some such mess or another. But today, he’d made it all the way until eight in the evening. He’d damn well avoid—

“Fine.” Morgan sighed theatrically before she added, “I’ll just let Neve McKay sit at the bar by her lonesome then. Although it looks like Griffin—”

He shot up off the couch and didn’t even think to disconnect the call until he heard Morgan’s laughter when he was in the bathroom, a minute later, hurriedly straightening his hair.

It was less than ten minutes before he was locking up his flat and less than twelve before he was striding into the pub, through the front door this time. After all, it was his day off, wasn’t it?

And there she was, sitting at the bar, giving Griffin Parker a smile. Griffin, daft idiot that he was, likely couldn’t tell that it was a half-hearted attempt at best. When Ian moved closer, Neve glanced up and the smile changed, bloomed into the one he knew was a
real
one and it lit him up inside, made him feel like he could climb mountains and jump over skyscrapers.

Griffin glanced over, following her gaze, and spotted him.

Ian saw the way the other man sort of rolled his eyes and then he gave a good-natured grimace.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.

Griffin glanced down at his mostly eaten meal and then said, “How about you just take my seat? Bar’s crowded. I’m about done.”

A moment later, as Morgan cleared away Griffin’s plate, Ian snuck a chip from Neve’s plate. “Trying out my fish and chips, are you?”

“Well, somebody told me they were the best in town.” That shy, nervous sort of smile curled her lips.

“You should have called me, told me you were coming in. I’d have met you here.”

One smooth shoulder, bared by a skinny-strapped top, lifted. His mouth watered as he thought about pressing his lips to that elegant slope. “It was a last-minute sort of thing. You always seem to be here anyway…” Even as the words left her lips, she started to blush.

Ian could have pounded his bloody chest, he was so delighted. “So…” He leaned in, one arm draped over the back of her seat. “Coming to see me, were you?”

*   *   *

That mouth of his was so damned beautiful, it all but made her forget her name. Right now, it was curled in a pleased grin and she was torn between blushing and laughing. Turning her attention to her plate, she grabbed a fry and popped it into her mouth. She washed it down with her watered-down Coke. In a deliberately lofty voice, she said, “I’ll have you know, I wanted some food. Ella Sue is so determined to fatten me up, but she’s hovering and it’s driving me crazy. She was making pot roast and I was more in the mood for fish and chips.”

“And you weren’t even thinking of seeing me, not at all?” he murmured.

She swallowed. Turning her head, she met his eyes. He’d moved in so close, all she’d have to do was lean in the smallest bit and her mouth would touch his.

“Not at all?”

A smile trembled on her lips. “Well, seeing you is a bonus.”

“You wound me, Neve.”

Laughing, she turned back to her food. “With your ego, Ian, I think it would take a great deal more than that to wound you.” Keeping her voice deliberately casual, she asked, “So I guess it’s your day off, huh?”

“Yes.” He stole another fry and she smacked his hand. “Oi!”

“Order your own.”

“Will you keep me company if I do?” He gave a heavy sigh as he studied her half-empty plate. “I hate to eat alone, love. I truly do.”

“I’m sure.” Then, because she had come to see him and they both knew it, she said, “I guess I can hang around a while.”

“You’re too kind to me.”

*   *   *

“Spiders.”

Neve slid him a look. “Seriously?”

“On my honor.” Ian placed a hand on his chest as though swearing an oath. “And I blame J. K. Rowling. It’s all her fault—and Hagrid’s. That damn giant spider of his. I never liked them much, especially after reading
The
Lord of the Rings,
but then I read about the monster he raised as a pet and…”

Ian shuddered dramatically.

Neve laughed. This crazy game he’d started—
what about … what are you …
was revealing all sorts of unusual things. He hated chocolate, he secretly loved Celine Dion—
and
country music—and although he forbade her from telling, he shuddered every time Ella Sue poured him a glass of her sweet tea.

Now she knew he disliked closed-in spaces and he hated spiders.

“What about you?”

She looked away. “It would be easier to talk about the things I’m
not
afraid of.”

“But that’s cheating,” Ian chided, his voice light and teasing.

A smile tugged at her lips. He already knew the big fears. She supposed she didn’t have to go into those. “Um … well. I hate shots. I gave Moira a bloody nose once, trying to get away from her and the nurses before they could give me my vaccinations.”

Ian came to a stop, gaping at her. “You what?”

She blushed, furiously embarrassed. “You heard me. I hate shots. They terrify me.” She jerked a shoulder in an awkward shrug. “I haven’t had one since … hell. I don’t even know. I get the flu vaccine now, but only because they came out with that nasal mist. Back in high school, I even passed out once.”

Ian rubbed his ear. “I’m sorry, I’m still hung up on the
bloody nose
bit.”

Neve rolled her eyes.

“I’m serious,” he said, shaking his head. “Your sister, she can be rather intimidating. That you bloodied her nose … well, that’s rather shocking.”

With a sound that was part laughter, part derisive snort, she started to walk again, tugging on his hand. She moved her gaze to the river, the moon shining down on it and splintering into a thousand shards of silvery-white.

“I’ve missed this.”

The night air was soft, wrapping around them like a muggy blanket. Sweat beaded on the back of her neck, but it didn’t bother her.

Ian just looked at her, waiting.

“Home,” she said simply. “New York … well, I loved it there. London—it would be hard to say if I enjoyed it or not, since I never really had a chance to experience it on my own. I loved Scotland, though. But no place every really felt like home.”

“That’s because no place else was home for you.” He squeezed her hand.

Nerves fluttered inside her. She told herself not to ask, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Is … is Scotland still home for you?”

“In some ways, yes. Braemar, in a way, will always be home. But there are shadows there,” Ian told her. He came to a halt, still holding her hand.

She turned to face him, but he was gazing out over the river. “Braemar was home because it was where Mum raised me. I was happy there. But when she died, a part of me died, too. You can probably understand that, I think. It … it was fast and ugly, she hurt so much. I barely recognized her in the end. Those memories tarnish the memories of home. Aviemore…” He jerked a shoulder in a shrug. “As much as I loved my gran, that place was never home. I moved to Glasgow after university, lived there until Brannon talked me into coming here, but it wasn’t home.”

“Where is home?”

Finally, he turned his head and smiled at her. “It’s here. I miss Scotland, but I can go back in the summer and last year, I went back at Christmas. I can always go back and visit, but when it’s done, I’m ready to come back here. I think I’ve found my home, Neve.”

Those words made one of the knots in her chest loosen. It didn’t unfurl completely, but she thought maybe it was starting to.

*   *   *

Lost in the shadows, William watched.

When Neve had driven into town that evening, anticipation had spread through him.

He knew Campbell’s schedule. Not only had he been watching, but he’d made a couple of careful questions, had even made a few calls—asking when he might be able to find the manager in. Oh, he took caution there.
I’ve a business matter to discuss with the manager—which days is he available? Should I set up a meeting or just drop in … of course, of course. Thank you so much.

Thursdays were the only days he wasn’t in the pub, so naturally, when the Thursday rolled around and he saw Neve approach, he’d been excited. He’d even considered going in after her, but decided against it. Brannon lived in town as well and William had prowled around enough to know that there was a back entrance. Both of those sods could and did use the back entrance.

It was a good thing he’d exercised caution because no sooner had he made the decision not to go in after Neve did he see Campbell come striding down the walk of the building next door.