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“Hmm?”I opted for confusion. If he wasn’t going to come right out and say it, neither would I.“Oh, I think he left, it’s not really his scene.” I wished I were there with him, but I needed to get tonight finished. I was the host, I couldn’t just disappear and expect no one to notice, plus I’d meant it when I said tonight was too important.
Placing the forty-seven in a box engraved with the Kinleith Distillery seal, I passed it off to Heather, who disappeared to deliver it to the customer. Callum and I watched her leave in silence, but my toes tapped impatiently against the floor. Would it be too rude to start ushering people out the door? Callum started collecting empty glasses and stacking them on a tray and I couldn’t take it any longer.“Please don’t clean up.”
An eyebrow winged up, his fingers halting.“Why wouldn’t I help?”
Because I suspect you have feelings for someone you can’t have, but just in case I’m wrong— “I don’t want to lead you on.” I spoke the last part aloud.
Before I could blink, he dropped to one knee, clutching at his chest. For one second of blind panic, I lurched forward to catch him but his head flew back, more shouting than singing, when he belted out,“Shot through the heart, and you're to blame, you give love a bad name!”
I knew stragglers were watching us curiously, but I laughed anyway.“I’m sorry,” I said, offering him a hand. I knew then with much relief the apology wasn’t necessary, he had no interest in me, which meant—
He leapt to his feet, towering over me once again as he pressed a smacking kiss to my cheek and said,“Just so you know, Mal can’t sing as well as me.” He winked and went right back to cleaning up.
Maybe I should have texted first, I thought, chafing myhandsagainst my arms as I stood on Mal’s stoop. Though it was after one a.m., a soft light emanated out the small hatch window along with the low buzz of the television. He was definitely awake. Dudley whined impatiently at my feet.“Don’t look at me like that,” I said to him.“I just… need a second.” He stomped his single front foot. Glowering at my dog, I knocked softly. He didn’t answer.“He’s probably busy… we should come back another time.” I could have sworn Dudley’s next whine was filled with judgement.
Swallowing, I faced the door down like it was an enemy. Earlier in the dunnage was the hottest experience of my entire life and I’d come harder than I ever had—ever. But part of me worried he would regret it.He didn’t seem like he regretted it,a voice whispered. With that in mind, I took matters into my own hands and tried the door handle—of course it was open—and stepped inside. Regardless of what came next, we needed to discuss it like adults to—
I stopped short at the threshold like I’d run headlong into a wall. It took my brain several heartbeats to catch up to what my eyes were seeing. Myface, far larger than anyone should be forced to see their own face, on his widescreen television.A Stranger at the Gates.I immediately recognised it from the image of a younger me dressed in nothing but a sheer white nightdress, hair unbound around my shoulders.
My character, Lyra, crept down the servants’staircase of the large country estate in which she worked as a governess to the viscount’s young ward. Unlike present me, Lyra strode into the viscount’s study with purpose, slight shoulders pushed back. Lord Devon didn’t look up, but his hand stilled over his correspondence, grip tightening around his pen.“Miss Stewart, the hour grows late.”
“It does.” Her voice—my voice—echoed smokily.
He straightened in his chair, posture imposing as he finally looked at her.“You should not be here.” Devon spoke the words but it was Mal’s voice I heard in my head.
“Because you do not want me here?” Lyra sidled closer and Devon shot to his feet, moving behind his chair and gripping the back of it, as though the barrier might stem the oncoming tide between them. It had been raging ever since he found her out in the woods weeks before, soaking wet, injured, and without her memories. Lyra stepped up to the desk, her hand tracing over the various pots of ink and paper, stroking the pen he’d just held. Lord Devon’s breath rattled as did Malcolm’s. My attention snapped to him sprawled on the sofa, watching him watchmeon the screen.
Bolstered by the sight, I crept closer. He hadn’t noticed me yet. Dudley took my slight motion as an invitation and barrelled around my legs, his short claws clacking on the hardwood as he rushed straight to Boy’s basket. Mal jumped to his feet, head whipping around exactly like Lord Devon’s just had. His eyes were wide with panic, flicking between me and the screen and then back again.“April… I wasn’t… I didn’t…” He fumbled for the remote on the sofa, only succeeding in turning up the volume until my breathy voice was all that could be heard in the room.“Fuck!”His hands were trembling, cheeks blazing the deepest scarlet.“When I saw the tasting room all locked up, I didn’t think you were coming. And then the film randomly started on the television… I wasn’t watching you,I swear.”
His words made me wilt with disappointment. But his clear embarrassment could only mean one thing… heknewwhat came next. He’d watched this movie before. I waited for my own embarrassment to rise, along with the usual fears that came with strangers watching and analysing my body, but none came. If anything, it had the opposite effect. Ilikedthe idea of Mal watching me. Admiring me. I stepped closer, watching his too-large fingers jab at the control buttons.“You weren’t watching me?”
“Of course not… I was flicking through the channels. It was already on.” As if in a trance, we both watched as Lyra drew nearer, they were arguing now. Devon ordered her back to bed and circled the desk to keep his distance, furious in his adamance that he didn’t want her.
The remote control clattered to the floor. The back snapped free and the batteries careened beneath the sofa. Malcolm dove after it, dropping to his hands and knees, scrambling to reach them.“Wait,” I urged, circling the sofa to stand on the rug.
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t pause his frantic search.“Not just for this, but earlier too. I should never have taken it that far or spoken to you that way.”
“How did you speak to me?”
He tensed, refusing to look at me.“You know exactly how I spoke to you and it wasn’t appropriate.”I thought it was perfectly appropriate.
“And if I don’t want you to be sorry?” I didn’t know if it was my words or the rasp in my throat, but he paused, falling back on his heels.
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“You…” He licked his dry lips.“You liked it?”
“Yes.”
His swallow was visible. So was his ever rising colour, spreading to his ears and down his neck, making him glow beneath the low light.“Then why did you race off?”
“For the reasons I said, I needed tonight to be a success. But also…” I paused, searching for courage. I’d never let a man make me feel nervous before, I had no intention of starting now.“I thoughtyoumight regret it and given the circumstances, running away felt safer in the moment.”
He jerked in my direction, still on his knees.“I could never.” He shook his head.“I’m desperate for you, April, haven’t you realised yet?”
This man. This sexy, shy, dichotomy of a man. How I wanted him.“I’m starting to,” I said.“How about this… What if instead of constantly questioning one another’s actions, we try giving each other the benefit of the doubt?”
