Scandalous Scotsman - M.J. Fields Page 0,11
avoiding the inevitable financial crisis.
“I think he’ll be fine. I also just realized I’m sure I can still work at the restaurant. I’ve got this, Tonya.”
“You know I love you, right?” She always leads with this before shrinking me.
“I do. Love you back. But Fraser has to go out to piddle.”
“Piddle,” she states, judgment intact.
“Chat later,” I say before hanging up.
I give my boy a scratch under the chin. “You ready to go piddle?”
He cocks his head at me, and I swear his eyebrow raises.
“Potty?” I concede.
He begins tap dancing.
“You’re such a handsome boy,” I say as I walk to the door and grab the leash from the coatrack. Then I bend down, and he sits as I hook it to his collar.
“It’s a bit warm out to wear this,” I say, reaching to untie his scarf.
“Arrf!” He steps back as if he’s objecting to the wardrobe change.
“Suit yourself.” I stand and open the door.
Outside, I walk Fraser right down the sidewalk. Nothing to hide here. If he belongs to someone, they’ll let me know. Which is why you’re taking side streets when you know there’s a doggie park just two blocks down, on a main road.
I inwardly give lady logic the finger and carry on.
“Scotch!” I hear a woman’s voice from behind me, and Fraser gives the leash a little tug as he runs between my legs.
A loud whistle, and then he begins to pull a bit more forcefully.
“Come on, little fella,” I say as I try to untangle myself.
“Arf!” Fraser does some sort of figure eight between my legs, wrapping around me, as I try to manage the brake on the retractable leash.
“Um, Fraser.” I laugh when I realize just how quickly and completely I’m tied up. “Stay still, fur fella.”
“Scotch, sit!”
I freeze at the sound of the male voice, and the hair on the back of my neck stands at attention.
“Ms. Bloom?”
Sweet baby Jesus, why, why, why me?
I try to step out of the mess I’m in and, of course, I begin to sway.
Two firm hands grip my shoulders, steadying me, as I look down at my sandal and my boot.
Once steady but also lightheaded from the scent of whatever Dr. Nail-It-or-Screw-It is wearing, I bend to untangle my feet.
“Christ, would ye stop yer fussing before ye end up on yer arse again.” He squats down and unhooks Fraser’s leash.
“He’ll get away,” I gasp.
“Scotch, on yer arse,” he commands.
“His name is—” I stop when the dog sits perfectly still.
Dr. Stewart looks up as he continues unwinding the leash from between my legs. “His name is Scotch, Ms. Bloom.”
“I’m so sorry.” The woman with him, probably his wife, walks around from behind me.
“Take him home, Maryanne. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he says curtly.
I scowl at him, and he rolls his eyes slightly and looks up at her. “Please.”
“Of course, Dr. Stewart.”
Well, not his wife.
Unless he makes her call him doctor.
Once the leash is untangled, he stands up, clicks the little brake on it, and it automatically winds up. Then he hands it to me, and I take it.
“Thanks for taking care of my dog.”
“How do I know he’s yours?”
He crosses his arms over his chest and quirks an eyebrow.
“Fine. Well, you may as well keep this.” I thrust the leash at him.
When he doesn’t take it, I turn and start back toward my house. I see the woman walk across the road then turn the corner, carrying my Fraser.
I look back. “Why are you in my neighborhood? Making house calls again?”
“We’re neighbors, Ms. Bloom.”
I nearly choke on my own saliva when I watch as Maryanne walks down the sidewalk to the Kingsley estate.
“Some neighborly advice, Dr. Stewart?”
He’s directly behind me now.
I look back. “Keep your dog on a leash.”
He begins crossing the street. “As ye just saw, he normally doesn’t require one. He kens his place when he’s with me.”
Oh.
No.
He …
Of course he did.
“As your friend, I say you two should just screw each other’s brains out and get it out of the way already.”
“Oh my God, Tonya, are you drunk?”
“I’ve had three glasses, so technically, no. But that’s not the point. I saw sparks at the coffee shop.”
“Three glasses, my ass.” I take my wine sippy and lean back on my couch.
“Fine, four. But keep in mind, I’m the logical one. I don’t just see sparks, Lizzie, and I not only saw them, I felt them. Do yourself a favor and just do it.”
“Four?”
She giggles. “Fine, five.”
I hear the doorbell ring in the background.
“You