Scandalous Scotsman - M.J. Fields Page 0,29
glasses.
When I steal a glance toward the opposite end of the table where Ethan sits looking absolutely amazing, his eyes are on me, brows slightly narrowed as he licks his lips quickly.
And yes, tingles.
When the redhead leans over and says something as she places her hand on his shoulder, smiling, I look away quickly.
Cursing his good looks, the very vivid memories of last night, this morning, and yes, this afternoon, I decide I will no longer be watching Outlander, because I’m one hundred percent sure this is the curse of Jamie.
Bullshit. It’s Ethan James Stewart.
“Shut up,” I mumble to myself as I look away.
“You think you should slow down?”
I look over my fifth glass of champagne toward Tonya and scowl as the last of the five-course meal— dessert— is placed before us. I’m one hundred percent sure I can’t eat another bite.
Swallowing my drink, I hold my hand up to stop the server from setting down the exquisite chocolate dessert. “I truly couldn’t eat another bite, but thank you so much.”
She smiles sweetly and as she steps back, she accidentally hits the glass of champagne, causing it to spill all over my dress.
“I am so, so, so sorry, miss.”
“It’s fine. Absolutely fine.” I give her hand a squeeze as she grabs the white linen napkin like she’s going to clean up the mess.
Tears fill her eyes. “But I—”
“Girl, you’re fine,” I interrupt her and smile. “Last week at The Oasis while working my shift, I spilled an entire carafe of red on two women.” I hold up two fingers.
“You’re a waitress?” She sniffs.
“For the better part of six years.” I nod. “That’s how I paid my way through college.” I push back my seat. “Still pays my bills.”
I stand —well, sort of stand—and she catches my elbow.
“You okay?” she whispers.
“I’ve a leg and a half working. Neither the one nor the half of one, are of the sea variety. Add those two minor issues to the fact that I’ve drank more champagne tonight than I ever have in my life and I clearly have a problem.”
She smiles now.
“Mind helping me keep rocking this dress in front of this crew by standing behind me and maybe catching me if I fall?”
“Of course.” She grins.
“Want some help?” Tonya asks.
“No, me and …” I stop and look at her.
“Maci, Maci Foster.” She nods.
Once up the steps, laughing because I’m pretty freaking drunk, I look up to see Captain Nichols is standing with his arms crossed, glowering at Maci.
“Is everything okay?”
“It won’t be if you don’t let the best server I’ve ever had get me to the bathroom. I’ve had a bit too much, spilled my drink, and I’m hoping not to spill my bladder, Captain.”
“Maci, be sure to take care of our guest.”
After we pass him, I look over at her.
“You really didn’t have to do that, but thank you.”
“He’s—”
“An ass,” she whispers.
“All the hot ones are.” I laugh, and so does she.
When I walk out of the stall, I jump when I see Ethan leaning casually against the ladies’ room counter.
“What are you doing here?”
“Could ask ye the same thing, but from what I gather, ye’re here at Bridget’s request.”
“Great. Could you move so I can wash my hands?”
“Aye, but I won’t until ye look at me, Elizabeth Bloom.”
“Fuck you,” I hiss.
He smirks. “That’s a given.”
He reaches for me, and I instinctually raise a knee.
Adrenaline soaring, I rush past Ethan, who is hunched over and hopefully suffering from an ache of his own.
“Soak yer ballbag, you tatter.”
The door slams behind me and I hobble and, yes, wobble, due to the ship’s movement —due to alcohol— rushing down the deck toward the sound of laughter and chatter.
“Hey, you okay?” Bridget asks as she and Tonya approach me.
“Yeah, I could totally use another shot about now, though.” I rush past them and call over my shoulder, “Come on.”
Balls
Ethan
Scientifically, it makes no sense at all how the hell a man who’s just had a knee to the balls can possibly get hard, I think as I splash cold water on my face to take some of the heat caused by anger … and, yes, arousal away.
I could skin a Brit’s hide and make a rug out of it for not only throwing a dinner party I dinna want, but also for inviting a woman who I’ve definitely mentioned on more occasions in the past two weeks than I care to admit drives me absolutely fucking insane.
I’m pissed. I hadn’t planned on fucking Elizabeth Bloom at