“Always in Scotland?” I ask. He’s good enough that he could surely tour around a bit.
“Always in Inverness. I live here, and there’s nae shortage of pubs that want live music.” He smiles and shifts in his chair. “So, what is it you do in Georgia?”
“I’m a wedding planner,” I say automatically, then remember my current circumstances. “Or I was. I’m actually between jobs now.” I shrug as if I’m unbothered, and realize I am. While I loved what I did, I really disliked who I worked for. With good reason, apparently.
“I see. Do you hope to go back to plannin’ weddings for your next job?”
I nod. “I think so. Weddings, or events in general. I love the planning and the design.” I grin. “Especially all the little details. Those are my favorite things, and I think they are the things that end up meaning the most to the clients.”
He smiles, and gosh, if it doesn't make me want to run my fingertips along his short beard like the socially inept person I can sometimes be.
“I can tell you love it. Your eyes lit up talking about it.”
“I really do.” I stop myself because I don’t want to bore him to death. I could talk for hours about wedding planning, and I’m sure that isn’t what he bargained for when he walked over.I’m about to ask him if he does anything apart from gigging in pubs when he speaks.
“Your kirby grip is falling out, lass.”
He called me lass! “My what?” I’m taken aback when he reaches up and slides a loose bobby pin back in my hair. Why does the simple action send my heart aflutter?
“There. All better,” he says, as if we’re finished talking about this.
“What did you call it?”
“A kirby grip. I take it that’s not what you call it?”
He’s all serious, and it makes me laugh. “I call it a bobby pin.” I take a sip of my second Irn-Bru. So good. “Still, it’s impressive that you know what akirby gripis.”
“Ach, no. I grew up with three sisters. There were two on the bathroom counter and three on the floor at all times growing up.”
“And probably thirty per pack that vaporized into thin air.”
This makes him grin, and again I can’t believe this gorgeous, seemingly wonderful man is talking to me.
“I can’t speak to that, but I think their vaporization isn’t out of the realm of possibility.” His broad mouth breaks into a wide smile I can’t help but respond to with one of my own.
6
Malcolm
Ican’tbelievemyluck meeting two beautiful, non-local women today. At least I didny make this one cry. She’s sitting there, wearing the most beautiful smile, twisting some of her long dark hair around her finger. It’s really too bad that she doesn’t live here.
“How was it growing up with three sisters? Are they older? Younger? Both?”
“All older. Though, one only by six minutes.” And Fiona never lets me forget it.
“You have a twin! That’s so cool.”
“It is. But with all of them, it was like growing up with three bonus mothers. Even my twin, Fiona, tried to mother me as soon as she could.”
“Oh my. Sounds like a good time. At least for them.” She gives a wee laugh that lights up her eyes. I can’t tell whether they’re blue or green in the dim lighting, but I add it to the list of things I’d be excited to find out if I were to see her again. As it is, her eyes will always be a mystery to me.
I chuckle. “It wasn’t so bad. How about you? Any siblings?”
“Nope. It’s just me and my mom. Always has been.”
That makes me strangely sad for her. Of course, not everyone would want a big family like mine. “You must be close.”
“We definitely are. When you came over, I was laughing at a GIF she sent in response to the photo I sent her of my food.”
