Dirty Sexy Scot by Melissa Blue

Author:Melissa Blue [Blue, Melissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Confessions of a Romance Author

11

Once again, Kincaid found himself listening to pipes rushing water to spray Mia’s naked body. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his thighs and cradle his face. The bed squeaked at the slight movement. He sighed, considering his next step. Since she never spent more than fifteen minutes washing up, he had approximately five minutes to pull his head together.

Then again, what was the point? He’d blown it. She’d teasingly asked him if he loved the Baird, and he’d given her the cold shoulder. Barely said more than a few words after he grabbed his overnight bag at Douglass’s before they headed to the B&B. The old building sat on a corner, no more than half a block from Baird’s. The blankets were soft, hand stitched quilts, the wall covered in fading floral wallpaper, and no matter the time of day, the place smelled of iced buns. A perfect getaway, but all Mia had done was take the shirt he’d offered for her to sleep in, not initiating another conversation him.

His aloof reaction was why he’d exiled himself to his brother’s loft all those months. He wasn’t fit for other people's company. Hadn’t been for a long time, if he thought about it. All the SBS groupies not only knew the score, they never asked anything of him. His charm and dick were enough.

The water stopped. He held himself still, hoping for...he didn’t know. He just wanted to rewind time to the moment right before he gave Mia the cold shoulder. Fuck, go back to second he signed up to become a super soldier. Maybe then his mind wouldn’t be restless from civilian life. He could look at a woman, at Mia, and only see her smile, not her fear or doubts.

The door creaked open, and her gaze went to his. She broke the stare first.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She flipped back the comforter on the right side. “For?”

“I've been a shite to you since we left the pub. You don’t deserve that. I'm...” He swallowed the words.

She sucked in a deep breath. “What?”

He shifted through his thoughts, his fucking feelings. “I don't know my purpose anymore, and that puts me on edge.”

She looked at him, a frown creasing between her brows. “Purpose is a hefty word.”

He pushed up from the bed to put space between himself and her. He turned at the dresser to face her. “It’s the way I’ve lived for most of my adult life. I had missions. I was working toward a definitive goal. Now I’m...” He shrugged.

She climbed onto the bed. “So loving someone doesn’t have a purpose?”

He hadn’t thought of it like that. “I’m simply saying I’ve always had responsibilities.”

“But didn’t you go into the military at eighteen?”

“I went into boot camp at sixteen and a half, signed up for the SBS at eighteen. Up until then I took care of my siblings. My parents were flakes.”

Her eyes rounded. He crossed his arms under her stare. Finally, she pulled the comforter up to her neck.

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