Scandalous Scotsman - M.J. Fields Page 0,19
he gets closer and glance out of the corner of my eye as I slowly coast toward the door.
When I see his head turn toward me as he slows down, I look away and scream as I slam on the brakes, stopping my car before it smashes into the garage door … that didn’t open.
Heart racing so loudly that it’s all I can hear, I cover it with my trembling hands.
“Ms. Bloom.”
Still holding my heart, I look left and see that his normally clean-shaven square jaw has been unshaved since last I saw him and is now covered in a thin layer of chocolate brown, silky scruff.
“Ms. Bloom?”
He stands there, and I see muscular pecs, bigger than my boobs, also lightly dusted with hair, the most spectacularly sculpted abs, the V, and a tattoo. But not just a tattoo, a tattoo of a scorpion, ready to sting, pointing toward his …
My door is opened, and he leans in, reaching over me and throwing my car in park. “Are ye well?” He leans out, still bent over, his eyes narrowing as he asks, “Can ye speak, Ms. Bloom?”
I nod and exhale, “Lizzie.”
“Where are ye hurt?”
“What?” I ask in confusion.
“Ye screamed and stomped yer brakes. Where are ye hurt?”
“My door didn’t open.” I shake my head, trying to get my shit together.
He narrows his eyes.
I sigh. “My garage door didn’t open.”
He cocks his head to the side.
“I almost ran into my garage door, so I got scared.” I turn in my seat and start to step out. “That’s why I screamed.”
“Where’s yer boot?”
“What?” I ask as I stand.
“Yer. Boot.”
“You have a one-track mind, Dr. Stewart,” I huff as I shut my door behind me, turn to open the back door, and lean in to grab it.
“Aye, and ye should keep yer eyes ahead of ye instead of scanning the neighborhood.”
“It’s not every day you see a half-naked man below sixty jogging down Terrace Drive.” I turn and see him eyeing my ass. “It’s not any larger than the last time you examined it, Dr. Stewart.”
“Excuse me?”
“Never mind,” I grumble as I bend down to put my foot in the boot.
“Ms. Bloom, if I crossed a line—”
“You’ve crossed many,” I huff as I strap the Velcro closures, then sidestep him, heading to the front door.
“Ms. Bloom,” he calls from behind me.
“Just leave me …” I turn to finish my sentence when I see several people, all of the female persuasion, some jogging and some walking their dogs, all looking at him and me, and for the sake of not bringing any more attention to myself —a misfit of this community already— I tell him, “Good day, Dr. Stewart.”
I punch the code in, open the door, walk inside my house, and then close and lock the door behind me, taking a deep breath and gathering my wits about me. Then I hurry through the kitchen to head out to the garage.
As soon as I open the door, I see he has managed to drive my car into the garage, park it, and is getting out.
Christ, he’s beautiful.
I run my hand over my face to once again try to get myself together, which seems to be nearly impossible with him, but I’m pissed off now.
“How did you get in my garage?”
“Apparently, ye need to push the open-door button in order to actually open the door,” he answers, clearly amused but hiding it well.
“Bullshit,” I snap.
“Well, I’m pretty sure I got yer car in yer garage, didn’t I?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Prove it.”
“Prove it?”
“Close it.”
“Are ye serious, Ms. Bloom?”
I take the two steps down into the garage to prove to him just how serious I am.
Seeing this, he leans in the door and hits the button.
When the door starts to descend, my ego deflates right along with it. I look over at him as he holds back a smile and the door stops.
I turn and look at the door and can’t help laughing. “See? I told you.”
“Aye, so ye’re pleased with yerself, are ya?”
“Yes, yes, I am. Better than you assuming I couldn’t think straight when I saw all that”— I wave my hand up and down toward him— “jogging down the street.”
When he laughs, I couldn’t stop smiling if I wanted to.
To hide it, I turn and face the door that is less than a quarter of the way closed and sigh when I see a bunch of the neighborhood women in the mouth of my driveway, chatting amongst themselves, and roll