Under a Storm-Swept Sky by Beth Anne Miller

Author:Beth Anne Miller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Entangled, Embrace, NA, NA romance, New Adult, New adult romance, romance, Scotland; Skye Trail; hiking; enemies to lovers; protector hero; damaged hero; adventure
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2018-03-22T16:00:00+00:00

When we got down to the bar, the cute, dark-haired bartender came over, a big smile on his face, his blue eyes friendly. “You must be Amelia,” he said. He turned to Rory. “She’s just as bonnie as Tommy said she was.”

“Um, thank you?” I said, my face flaming.

Rory rolled his eyes. “Amelia, this is my friend Gavin. Great guy, but unrepentant flirt, so watch out for him. Gav, this is Amelia. Behave yourself.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Gavin said. “He just doesn’t know how to have fun.”

Gavin was charming and friendly and reminded me of Tommy. He ragged on Rory for a bit longer, then handed us menus. We took them to a booth along the wall and sat down.

“What are you thinking of getting? Everything here is really good.”

“I’m getting the cream of vegetable soup and the shepherd’s pie,” I said. “I want all the hot things after today.”

“Sounds good. I’ll go up and order. What do you want to drink?”

“What are you getting?”

“Whisky, most likely.”

“Do they have the one you had in your flask—was that yesterday?”

“Talisker Storm? Aye, I had some earlier. You liked it?”

“I did.” It was smoky and strong, and I liked the way it warmed me from within. I also remembered how it tasted on Rory’s lips when he’d kissed me after his nightmare. No, don’t go there.

“Okay.” He got to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”

“Wait, I’m paying.” I rummaged in my purse for my credit card.

“We’ll split it.”

“No. You’re helping drag my gimpy ass all over this island, and you’re paying for the room. The least I can do is buy you dinner.” He started to protest, but I laid my hand on his. “Rory, please let me do this.”

He studied me for a moment, then nodded. “All right, thank you.” He stuck the card in his pocket and went up to the bar.

Dinner ended up being much better than I’d feared after our earlier argument. The food was amazing, and so was the whisky.

He kept the conversation light, telling me about more colorful guiding experiences he’d had. Some of them were so outrageous, he had to be embellishing them, but he did it so smoothly, I couldn’t tell what was true and what wasn’t.

After a second round of drinks—and a shared dessert of sticky toffee pudding, which was heaven in a bowl—I was suddenly hit with a wave of exhaustion.

Rory stood and held out his hand. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

My whole body ran hot at his words, even though I knew he didn’t mean them the way they’d sounded. I stared at his outstretched hand and then looked up at his face. He looked pained.

“You can’t have it both ways, you know,” I said.

“I’m not trying to. I only meant that you look like you’re going to fall over if you don’t lie down really soon. And I’m one step behind you.”

I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet. He handed me the trekking pole he’d insisted I use as a cane, though I felt more than a little stupid using it inside.

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