Page 17 of Sullivan

“Coffee first.”

I hummed. “Yes.”

“You make such good coffee,” he said, nudging me, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“Sully, it’s cold outside this bed. You make the coffee.”

He rolled over instead and pinned me to the mattress. “How about I warm you up first? Then you make me coffee?”

“Sounds like a fair deal,” I replied, my voice breathless.

He lowered his face, tracing a nipple with his tongue. “I’ll make it more than fair.”

And he did.

SULLY

The trek to the village was slow. The usual paths were obscured with the amount of snow around. Although, now the sun was out, and the snow was already glistening as it started to melt. The boots Autumn borrowed were too big, but she tied them tightly around her ankles to stop them from falling off. Her gait amused me, being more like a horse clopping than her usual graceful walk. I teased her, and she threw a snowball at me. I tossed her into the snow and kissed her until she promised to behave, then pulled her out of the drift and brushed her off. I barely recognized myself. I wanted to make her laugh and grin. I liked teasing her—her reactions making me smile. She did a lot of things that made me smile.

We got to the village, heading straight to the pub. We walked in, and it felt as if every eye was on us. Mostly because they were. I had never walked into the pub with anyone but Bonnie. I ignored the curious stares, pulling Autumn through the crowd to a vacant booth I saw in the corner. I headed to the bar, ordering drinks and some lunch while Autumn called her aunt and Bonnie. Mrs. Harris looked up at me from her seat at the counter. “Well now,” she drawled, obviously recognizing Autumn and knowing I had been at the cottage as well.

“Don’t even start,” I warned. “What’s the news on the trains?”

“If they can make it from Edinburgh tomorrow afternoon, there’ll be one at six heading back. If not, then on Monday.”

“Right.” I picked up the drinks and nodded at the barman. “Thanks, Scotty.”

I carried the tray to the table. Autumn was on the phone. “No, I’m fine, Bonnie. I was perfectly safe at the cottage.” She listened a moment. “No. Everything was great. I’m heading back once the trains start running.”

“Tomorrow, maybe,” I mouthed, wondering why that word made me so unhappy.

“Tomorrow,” she repeated to my cousin. “So, I’ll see you Monday. If there’s an issue, then Tuesday.”

She said her goodbyes, then hung up.

I smirked at her. “I noticed you didn’t tell her I was here with you.”

She picked up her glass, taking a sip. “I didn’t have the strength for those questions over the phone. I’ll tell her in person. Besides, I had no idea what you wanted me to say. Or if you wanted me to pretend this never happened.”

I sat back, swallowing some Guinness. The dark, bitter brew was an explosion of taste in my mouth. “I don’t think either of us can pretend that, mo fhiadh beag.”

“No,” she agreed, lifting her glass.

“Your aunt okay?”

“Yes. About to leave for her brunch with the girls, as she called it, so it was a short call. I told her I was at a cottage in Scotland by the water and fine. That was all she needed to hear.”

“Ah,” I murmured.

She worried her bottom lip, obviously fretting about something.

“What is it?” I asked.

“What should I tell Bonnie?”

“Tell her the truth. I came up, not knowing you were there. We shared the cottage and…” I trailed off.

“…had a nice, friendly weekend?” she whispered, a flicker of pain crossing her face as she said the words. It matched the one that sparked in my chest at the thought of dismissing our time together.