Scandalous Scotsman - M.J. Fields Page 0,6
date night.
Another knock and I hop to the door, unlock the dead bolt, open the door, and peek out through the crack. I open my mouth but nothing comes out. Not one word.
But Claire, well, she takes the opportunity to cry out Jamie’s name.
Mortified, my eyes and mouth snap shut simultaneously and stay that way.
“Ms. Bloom, ye missed yer appointment.”
Opening one eye, I defend myself, “I cancelled.”
“Ye haven’t returned the messages left by my office staff.”
“I’m fine with the crutches.”
“Ms. Bloom, will ye stop being such a stubborn arse and—”
I shut the door but not all the way and yell behind me, “If I take the boot will you leave already?” hoping to cover up the moans and sexy type noises of Jamie and Claire. Then I turn it off as Jamie is literally pounding away at Claire.
I turn when I hear the door shut. Then, glancing around, I see popcorn all over and the spill proof cup dripping on my new-to-me area rug.
“Shit,” I groan and hop toward it.
“Ye’re going to have more than a bruised arse and fractured bone if ye den stop yer nonsense, Ms. Bloom.” He drops the box containing the boot on the couch and bends down to get the cup.
“It’s gonna stain,” I say, continuing to hop toward the kitchen.
I grab spray cleaner, a sponge, and a paper towel to soak up some of the spill, and when I turn around, I nearly die.
Holding my magic wand, the adult one, in one hand and the wine sippy in the other, he looks up at me. His eyebrow begins to arch, a smirk playing on his sickly handsome face, and I try my best to act like I don’t wish I could disappear.
“May want to continue the online search for a mate, Ms. Bloom,” he says as he looks down, searching for the power button on my wand and turning it off.
“Is that why you’re here, Dr. Stewart? Hoping to get lucky?”
He starts to reply, but I hold my hand up to stop him. “Don’t answer that. And also, feel free to reserve judgment. I mean hello, I know it was you calling over and over again because you may have seen a breast on FaceTime, from a woman you sent a dick pic to instead of —”
“Ye may want to stop right there, Ms. Bloom, before ye further embarrass yerself.”
I huff, “Oh, please, like I’m going to buy that—”
“Do I look like a man who’d have to resort to online dating?” he says self-righteously.
Before I can say a thing, mostly lies, because no, standing in front of this … perfect ass of a man, he absolutely doesn’t even remotely resemble any of the men I’ve seen. But, again, with a body like that, he could definitely be one of the faceless pec, ab, and V guys.
He points toward the couch. “Now, have a seat, and we’ll make sure this boot fits. Then I’ll be outta yer hair.”
Completely embarrassed and slightly —slightly? Ha!— turned on, I hop toward the couch.
He grabs my elbow and steadies me. Immediately, goosies form where his firm but steady grip touches me and heat spreads to my no-go zone as I sit down … slowly.
On his knees before me, he lifts my leg. “Yer arse feeling better?”
I nod, and his lips form a tight line, his eyes crinkling slightly in amusement.
He’s quite possibly the sexiest man on the planet, but a complete and total ass —and a creepy peen peddler— yes, there’s that, too.
Sweet Jesus, Tonya is going to have a field day with this, I think as he rests my heel on his knee while he pulls the boot out of the box, and then he gently slides my foot into it, like Prince Charming. Pervy Prince Charming, I remind myself.
“Now get yerself settled.” He points at the pillow then moves my legs to rest on the couch. Then he stands up, grabs the remote, my sippy wine mug, and hands them to me. His fingers graze over mine, and that heat burns hotter.
As he begins to walk toward the door, he pauses with his back to me, bends down, turns around, and hands me my wand. “Enjoy yerself, Ms. Bloom.”
Oh.
No.
He.
Didn’t.
Thursday
Lizzie
“He came to your house?” Tonya gasps.
“Shh …” I look around the crowded coffee shop, hoping no one heard her.
No one had.
She leans in and whispers, “Did you, ya know?”
“Really?” I huff.
“I just thought—”
“Well, stop thinking.”
She grins. “I googled him.”
I palm my face.
“He has Henry Cavill bone structure, and