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“I’ve given up on that,” she told him primly, but it was hard to focus on the conversation when he was touching her.
“We still have work to do, though,” he said lazily as he gently caressed her cheek.
Kirsty clasped her hands in front of her and focused on her breathing.
“You know,” he said. “Therapy.” His blue eyes darkened. “I thought it went well. We should do more.”
Kirsty swallowed hard. Her eyes dropped to his chest as she imagined him naked in front of her. She chewed her bottom lip.
Lake groaned softly.
“You’re killing me here, Kirsty. I’m not sure how much more I can take.”
He wasn’t the only one.
Caroline came in with a tray laden with mugs of tea and a plate of biscuits, and Lake dropped his hand back to his side. Kirsty was both relieved and upset that his touch was gone. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and saw he was watching her. A small smile curved his lips and Kirsty snapped her head back to Caroline.
Ten minutes later they all nursed mugs of tea while going over the plan for the show. As ordered by Caroline, Lake and Kirsty had brought photos of the lingerie they planned to showcase so that there wouldn’t be any double-ups. The evening would have been completely routine if it wasn’t for the fact that every time she looked at Lake, she didn’t see him sitting there fully dressed in Caroline’s living room. Oh no. She saw him almost naked in hers. And every time he brushed against her when he reached for the photos on the coffee table in front of him, she didn’t feel the innocent touch of a competitor. No. She felt his hot skin beneath her fingers as she explored him. It was driving her mental. There was no way she could concentrate on anything Caroline said. She found herself agreeing to things that she had no recollection of. Come morning, she’d have to call her best friend and ask her to recap the meeting. Honestly, it was a relief when the evening drew to a close.
“So...we know what we’re all doing, then?” Caroline said as she walked them to the door.
Kirsty nodded, although she had no idea what she was doing. Lake smiled at her and she got the sneaky feeling that he could read her mind. She hugged Caroline, wrapped her mauve poncho tight around her, pulled on her black wool gloves and hat and braved the cold Scottish night.
“I’ll walk you home,” Lake said as Caroline shut the door behind them.
There was no point arguing. They lived across from each other. It would be pretty stupid to walk through Invertary with him following on her heels. He buttoned his denim jacket over the soft grey jumper he wore and flicked up his collar against the chilly wind.
“You need another coat,” she told him, watching her breath billow with her words. “You’re going to freeze up here in that. This is only the start of winter. It gets worse from here on in.”
He gave her a little half-smile, and she got the distinct impression that he didn’t plan to be there when the weather really fell.
“Thanks for returning my computer gear,” he said.
Kirsty didn’t know what to say to that. Really she should apologise, but manners or not, that was going to happen over her dead body.
“How about you get my cut-out back too?”
“They didn’t return it?”
“Nope. And if it doesn’t come back I’ll need to get another one. It’s become a big attraction in the shop.”
Kirsty grunted. She hoped that Heather kept the blooming thing.
They turned into the street that ran along the back of the Presbyterian Church beside the graveyard. On one side of them was an assortment of headstones, on the other the dark paddocks of the MacDonald farm, which stretched up from the town limits into the hills.
There was silence. The black night seemed to weigh heavily on both of them. Kirsty couldn’t stand it.
“Come on,” she said. “I’ll show you something.”
She turned into the graveyard.
“Are you trying to scare me, or warn me off?” he said as he followed her.
She looked towards heaven, although she had her back to him and he couldn’t appreciate her gesture.
“I’m certain that it would take more than an old graveyard to scare you, Lake Benson,” she said, and heard him chuckle.
They wove through the well-tended graves, past the worn headstones to a plot in the corner. Lake wasn’t sure why Kirsty was leading him into a dark graveyard in the middle of the night, but he was game to find out. In the corner of the plot, under the willow tree, was the biggest, ugliest headstone that he’d ever seen in his life. It showed an angel carrying a stubby woman in his arms. The angel had a broadsword strapped to his back and looked too much like Mel Gibson in Braveheart for it to have been a coincidence. Come to think of it, now he was closer, the woman in Mel Gibson’s arms was eerily familiar too. He stepped towards the stone to read the inscription.
