She hiccuped again.
Ian lifted an eyebrow.
"What?"she asked.
"Nothing."
"You don't approve of my drinking?"
"From where I'm sitting, you're a grown woman..."
"Glad you noticed."Oh yeah, he'd noticed all right."But you didn't really answer the question."
Ian angled in his seat to face her.She did the same and their knees touched."None of my business, Lucy.If this is the way you want to let loose, it's your choice.Done the same myself."
"Mmm," she hummed thoughtfully as she brought the glass to her lips and sipped.Her eyes stayed on him, those big expressive eyes that glittered gold and copper in the low light of the pub."I did need to let loose, I guess."She licked the whisky from her bottom lip and Ian almost had a coronary.
She finished her drink, set it on the bar, and then grabbed Ian's hand.Warmth from her skin, the way her slim fingers played with his palm, his wrist, turning his hand over, made his heart go into overdrive."You're a decent guy."She glanced up at him with sadness.
His chest constricted into a tight knot.
It felt like she was breaking up with him, which he knew was crazy seeing as how they weren't even a couple.But damned if he wanted to hear her say they couldn't be together, so he cupped both sides of her head, leaned in, and kissed her whisky-glazed lips.
So goddamn soft.
A low moan of approval hummed in her throat.His shirt twisted as she grabbed it and pulled him closer.Lust leapt in his belly and ran hot and heavy through his veins.He wanted his tongue on her, wanted to taste her, but Grant's low chuckle as he walked by made Ian back off.
The look they shared, the heat, the significance, the inevitability.
They'd see this through.
But not now.
Ian stood.With a shaky hand he pulled out a few notes and tossed them on the bar top.Lucy got off her stool and began making her way to the door.Ian caught up, surprised when she opened her hand behind her.He took it, and she led him out the door and into the cool afternoon.
His lust dropped to a low simmer as he helped her onto the boat."Maybe you should sit down for the ride," he suggested.
"Ugh.No thanks.That'll probably make me sick.I'll stand."
They didn't speak after that.Ian was pretty sure Lucy's thoughts were occupied with the same things that occupied his—the fact that sooner or later, they'd be together.That being with Lucy seemed to be set the minute she'd arrived at Balmorie.
It shook him up.It made no sense and yet, when he looked into her eyes, it made perfect sense.
Cold unease whipped through him.He had to stop thinking, stop making more of it than it was.Just fucking stop.Take a step back.No, not a step.He should run.Yeah.Run screaming.
Ian was so worked up by the time he docked the boat and walked Lucy inside the house that he nearly collapsed in relief when she thanked him for the day, and hurried upstairs.No conversation.No touching.
For a long time he stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at nothing, feeling more lost than he'd ever felt before.
The shuffle of footsteps told him Hamish had come into the room.The old man stopped beside him and was quiet for a while."This calls for a drink, eh lad?"
"Does it?"he echoed flatly.
"If the way you look at that lass is what I think it is, seems a damn waste of time to fight it, or pretend it isn't what it is.Or that the occasion doesn't call for a drink."Any other time Ian would have laughed at that.Hamish was always coming up withoccasionsto have a stiff drink.But Ian wasn't laughing; he felt a little sick, to be honest.
Hamish slapped him on the back and chuckled, as though he knew exactly what Ian was going through."Come on, lad.Let old Hamish set you right."
Chapter 9
