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His leer collapsed as I broke into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Covering my mouth didn’t help. The laughter just kept coming until my sides ached and tears sprang to my eyes. Nearby pub patrons turned to see what was so funny.
“I’m sorry,” I managed between giggles. “I’ve never actually heard that one in the wild, and I…”
I kept laughing, is what I did.
He summoned whatever pride he had left and ignored me as though he had no idea what was wrong with this crazy woman. The poor guy got the bartender’s attention, paid for his drink, and beelined back to his friends, leaving me giggling at the bar. I asked for my water, still grinning.
“Now that was brutal.”
I turned to see Duncan sidled up close to me. He didn’t seem big on personal space these days. I had no complaints.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen someone shot down so totally.”
Chastened, I stifled my laughter. “I did tell him I was sorry.”
“The boy’s ego may never recover.”
“He’s young. He’ll be fine.” I took my water from the bartender and sipped at it, small bursts of laughter still rippling through me.Can I have yours?Amazing.
“Clearly, his skills aren’t as good as he’d hoped. It’s a terrible line.” Duncan glanced from the corner where the youth hostel guys were and back to me. “He never should have tried such a thing on the likes of you.”
“Seriously. To think I came all this way only to fall for such an awful pick-up line. I’m affronted.”
His mouth twitched. “I can tell.”
“Does that line ever work?”
“I’ve never tried it, so I couldn’t say.”
“No, you wouldn’t use a line like that.” I looked him over. “What lines do you use?”
“And give them all away?”
“Oh, please say that Culloden thing wasn’t a line. I really liked that.”
“Oh, no. That came from the heart.”
Every time this man talked about his heart, mine went a little wild.
He ordered a whisky, although not a turpentine one. Say what he would about the peaty ones, I didn’t intend to work my way up to them. Our table had been overtaken in our absence, so we made ourselves comfortable on a pair of barstools, snugged close together. I leaned one elbow heavily on the bar and rested my chin in my hand. My skin burned like a little inferno where our legs pressed together, but no way would I move.
I gestured at his glass. “What is this whisky?”
The answer sounded more like a sneeze than a name. I couldn’t have repeated or spelled it for my life.
He slid the glass closer. “Have a taste if you like.”
I sniffed at it, the aroma surprisingly pleasant. Hyper-aware of every movement of my lips as he watched me, I took a sip. The rich flavor warmed my tongue and lingered even after the burn. Still strong for my tastes, but not bad.
“That’s really good,” I said, sliding it back. “You know your stuff.”
“It’s my national duty to know my whisky.”
“Obviously.” I wondered what it would be like to taste the whisky on his mouth. I could imagine its spicy heat on his lips. I took a long drink of cold water to try to head those thoughts off before they could take hold. Nope, no chance. They’d already stuck in my mind.
“I wish I had a few of the whisky chocolates right now.”
Sure.Thatwas what I wanted.
