Page 41 of Sullivan

“But not a whole foot,” I said smugly.

He lit a couple of candles, lowering the lights and sitting beside me. He pulled my feet to his lap, rubbing my toes. “Your feet are chilled.”

“I should put on my slippers.” I grinned. “And my granny jammies. The big plaid ones that cover me neck to feet, with the knit slippers that have the big pom-poms on them.” I grinned in delight. “That should get you in the mood, big man.”

He laughed loudly, his head thrown back in mirth. He was so sexy when he was relaxed, his smile wide and his entire demeanor softer somehow.

He turned my way, his grip on my feet comforting and warm. “You could sashay out here in a potato sack with curlers in your hair and one of those night masks on, and I’d still be in the mood.” He squeezed my arches, making me whimper. It felt so good, and my feet were tired today after all my walking. “I doubt there is anything you could wear that would make me not think how sexy you are.”

“I’ll remind you of that when I’m sick and snotty and coughing all over you someday, asking you to put Vicks VapoRub on my chest and take away the dirty tissues.”

“If I get to fondle your breasts, I’m good with it.”

It was my turn to laugh.

He handed me a cup of tea and a biscuit. They were tasty—a sweet bite after the dinner we had eaten. We were both quiet for a while. He told me about what the lawyer at his firm had told him, and I repeated the conversation with Elaine. He looked pleased, although he frowned when I told him her parting line.

“That isn’t needed,” he growled, gripping my feet. “You’ve got me.”

I chuckled, not surprised at his reaction. He was a little possessive. Not that I minded—I felt the same way about him.

“I can’t get a British passport for a while.”

“No, you have to wait five years. My Irish passport allows me to live and work in the EU, Switzerland, and the UK. You can decide to have dual citizenship.”

“I like that idea.” I sighed. “And if things work out, I might have a job ready to come back to.”

“Would you like that? Working there?”

“I think so. It would have to be approved since, technically, my company owns both places now. But I like the people. I did some research. Once I apply to live here, I can’t leave until the paperwork is approved. So I think I would have to go home, pack up, and have my plans set before I return. It might mean not working for a while.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I mean, I’d be okay—I have savings—it would just be odd.”

“I would take care of you, Autumn.”

I smiled. “I’m not worried about that. I’m set. I guess I could take some courses to fill the time.”

“I could take some time off, and we could travel a bit in Scotland. Spend some time at the cottage. Take you on a tour of the Highlands.”

“Would you wear a kilt?” I asked with a mischievous wink.

“I have one. I’ll wear it for you anytime.”

I fanned myself. “Good Lord. You in a kilt.”

“My sporran is impressive.”

“I already know that.”

He chuckled, then frowned. “I would hate to see you go.”

“I’d be back. And I have to return and close out my life there. The break might provide some clarity for both of us.”

“I’ll not be changing my mind on this. On us,” he stated with a low growl in his voice. “Do you think you will?”

“No,” I said honestly. “But the time apart would help us focus on the future.”

He only grunted.

“And we don’t know if it will come to anything. But your friend is right. I can come back on the work visa and stay for six months, and we can figure it out.”