‘I’ve a flat upstairs,’ Cal said. ‘But I mainly live in a cottage out of town.’
Well, he’d answered her question, although it sounded like he hadn’t wanted to impart the information. And he hadn’t asked her anything in return. She supposed he already knew where she was living, since he’d seen herrésumé. But he could have asked if she’d settled in okay, or how she was enjoying Edinburgh.
‘Oh, how lovely to have a flat upstairs. So you can flop into bed as soon as work is over?’ Bea could have sworn he stiffened slightly. Maybe he’d interpreted this as flirting and it made him uncomfortable, although she was simply being friendly. There was no need for him to assume that she was suggesting they flop into bed together.
‘Yep, it’s pretty handy. But I prefer to get out of town.’
‘What’s your cottage like?’ Bea was genuinely interested.
‘Not much to describe. It’s small, but it’s home. Would you mind giving those tables a wipe please? I’ll do the ones over here.’
‘Sure.’
Cal passed Bea a cloth and their fingers touched momentarily. She glanced up at him and the briefest of electrical storms crackled overhead. But the skies were clear outside. This was something between her and Cal only, not experienced by the rest of the city. His eyes flickered for a moment, before he rubbed the back of his neck and looked away as if nothing had occurred.
‘Thanks,’ he said.
Okay, that definitely wasn’t a one sided thing. But he’s ignoring it, trying to keep me at arm’s length. Either that or he’s not very friendly.
But Bea had seen Cal be friendly enough to all the customers. No, something else was going on. Well, she was here to write a book. So, if he was going to be frosty then so be it. It wouldn’t be an interesting book if the hero and heroine fell into bed together without a bit of tension, would it?
Bea wiped the tables. Hopefully time would warmthings between her and Cal. And it would be good for her to flirt a little with a guy after all the years of her personality being trodden into the ground by Josh. Just gentle flirting, though. There was no need to play the pushy femme fatale now she was here with Cal and the fizz between them was established. Softly would do it. If something happened, then great. If it didn’t, then she would still have met a hot Scotsman to give her writing inspiration. And the most wonderful thing about this whole experience was that she was thousands of miles from home and whatever was ahead of her, it would be like it wasn’t real. It would be pure holiday escapism – like one of her stories.
Chapter 14
Cal
After the busy night and all Bea’s talk of flopping into bed, Cal realised he wasn’t in the mood for the drive back to the cottage. He’d miss his Sunday morning surf but could make up for it on Monday. So, after ensuring that Bea and Kitty had taxis home, he locked up the bar, headed to the flat upstairs and poured himself a bedtime dram.
Thoughts of the evening filtered through Cal’s mind as he decompressed. The bar was abuzz with customers, some regulars and many Edinburgh Festival revellers. At this time of year the population of Edinburgh doubled in size with all the visitors to the largest arts festival in the world. Without Zack, the evening had threatened to be a disaster, but Bea had easily slotted in and found her feet. She’d served as many customers as Cal or Kitty – give or take a few. She hadn’t once complained about being tired, and she’d gone to change the barrel without hesitation when one of the ales ran out. She was warm and friendly and … well, she was stunning. Cal inhaled. He could still smell her scent in his nostrils. How, in amongst the bar smells of beer and hundreds of people had that endured?
In the stillness, Cal could hear echoes of Bea’s laughter as she shared passing jokes with customers. She had a way about her that could make patrons feel special and noticed, and that kept them coming back. She’d tried that on him as they were cleaning up afterwards. Questions about where he lived and what his cottage was like. Cal was stand-offish with her; he knew that. He couldn’t bring himself to let his guard down. First off, he was her boss, so it was unprofessional to divulge too much. But there were other reasons too. He didn’t want to let a woman in. Couldn’t. It was like a reflex since Elisabetta, not to mention some who’d come before. Best to be alone for a while. Especially when so much other stuff was happening.
Cal checked his personal emails. There was an email from his brother Jamie entitledDad’s 60th. A reminder to organise the alcohol for his father’s birthday the following month. Each year, Amanda Butler hosted a big birthday bash at their home in Kinshore for her husband. His children took their part in planning the event. Jamie was based in Kinshore so, along with Nate and Sean who also lived there, he took charge of most of the logistics. Cal with his links to breweries usually arranged for all the alcohol to be delivered.
Cal replied to the email thanking Jamie, checked a few other messages, sipped his whisky, leaned back on the couch and exhaled. When he inhaled again, he could still smell amber and honeysuckle. As he closed his eyes, she was right there, in her Butler’s uniform, his surname on her ample breast. Smiling at him. Laughing warmly. Then she was dancing her nails with their perfect French manicure overthe buttons on her shirt and flicking each of them out of their resting place.
For a moment, Cal considered fighting these thoughts, but why bother? He was alone in his flat and there was a difference between having the woman here and having thoughts about her. He continued to let imaginary Bea unbutton her shirt, glimpses of the lace of her bra appearing now. Her heaving cleavage right there before him. Cal sighed and felt himself loosen and harden at the same time.Damn!He hadn’t wanted this to happen. Not even thoughts of her. But she was too much to ignore.They’re just thoughts. And you’re hard as a rock now, so there’s no going back.Bea’s bra was off. She’d undone it herself and her bounteous breasts were pointing upwards, perfectly rounded nipples calling out to be sucked. He did so, moving his hand downwards, unbuttoning her jeans and reaching into her panties to find the soft wetness hidden within.
It was too much. He didn’t need to experience any more of Bea’s imaginary body. Cal unbuttoned his own fly. He had to release the tension somehow and if he wasn’t going to let himself have this woman in real life then he could at least indulge in his imagination.
Chapter 15
Bea
The taxi, paid for by Cal, dropped Bea back at her flat after 2 a.m. Despite the hour, she was wide awake. The adrenaline from the shift was still coursing through her veins and she needed time to wind down before she could sleep. A few yoga stretches and some deep breathing would do it.
But yoga and deep breathing had nothing on the memory of one smouldering Scottish bar owner who Bea couldn’t stop thinking about. Fantasising about. He smelt lovely; that lime and cedarwood smell she’d first noticed in the coffee shop had lingered all evening behind the bar. It intoxicated her when she was close to him. That combined with meeting those emerald eyes and imagining them locked onto her as he lay on top of her naked, had made it difficult for Bea to recalibrate and focus on the job.
In her attempts to dissipate some of the tension created by an evening in the proximity of Cal Butler, Bea moved to writing. If she put her fantasies down into words while they were fresh and almost tangible, it would free her body of the thoughts. Right?
Who was she kidding? Bea tapped away on her laptop for over an hour, the rough unpolished prose capturing the evening’s experiences, the things she noticed about Cal, the way he moved, his energy, the cut of his jaw, the timbre of his voice, how she imagined being in bed with him. The words flowed onto the page, but by the time Bea had finished writing, she found that she’d been so long with imaginary naked Cal Butler – or Hal Hunter – that she had worked herself into an intense state of arousal. There was only one way to unwind.
Bea undressed and stepped into the shower, needing cleansed after the hot, sweaty shift at the bar. And while the water cascaded down over her breasts and onto her already soaking sex, she reached down, shut the world out and imagined it was Cal Butler whose hand, whose mouth even, was between her thighs and bringing her to a delicious Scotsman-induced climax.
Chapter 16
Bea
