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“They are good,” he said. “Chock full of calories, though.”
“Yes, you need to get this whole thing under control.” I made thewax-onmotions in front of his chest. “I didn’t want to say anything, but you’ve really let yourself go.”
He laughed modestly, no doubt well aware of what excellent shape he was in. Fifty or not, he could have bench pressed the kid who’d just come onto me. The thought did nothing to chill the heat coursing through my veins.
“How do you do it? Do you work out every day?”
“Yes.”
“Ugh, I couldn’t do it. Too much work.”
I did spin classes once a week if I was feeling dedicated, but I wouldn’t pretend I managed much more than that. A little bit of strength training while I watched reality TV, but daily cardio? Not interested. I didn’t want a better bootythatbadly.
“Mmm, you’re plenty sexy just as you are.” He looked liked he was thinking about somethingdelicious.
Funny, well read, and thought I was sexy as-is? What dream world had this Scottish silver fox descended from?
“Fifty looms,” he explained after a pause. “Working out every day helps me fight it off, at least figuratively.”
“You’re definitely winning the fight.” Was he ever. I might have sighed as I looked him over. “No Viagra for you.”
His eyes went wide, his whisky glass paused halfway to his mouth. “Viagra?”
Oh crap, I’d said that out loud. What was the matter with me? If it were possible to die of shame, I’d be six feet under right now and spared from cringing under his shocked gaze.
Maybe the pharmaceutical gods would smile on me, and it wasn’t called that here? But no—from the way he stared at me, he knew exactly what I’d referenced.
He set his glass on the bar as though throwing down a gauntlet. “I do just fine on my own.”
“It popped out. I don’t think youneed—” Nope. Definitely not finishing that sentence.
“You’re on a roll tonight.” Amusement tugged at his lips. Maybe he wasn’t truly offended, but sweet merciful heavens, what a thing to say.
I played with the cuff of his fleece, letting my fingers trail along the top of his wrist. “I am going to blame this on all the Scotch.”
“From yesterday?”
I gave him a hopeful smile. The glint in his eyes reassured, but I still wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere.
“You were telling me about your workouts.” I tried to look engaged, as though our conversation hadn’t been interrupted by me blurting out humiliating nonsense.
“I wasn’t.”
Truly, I had no graceful way to recover from this. “Pretend?”
He exhaled a low laugh. “I have a personal trainer who keeps me motivated for my workouts. By myself, I’m limp and listless, but he gets me up and keeps me up. Although, if I’m ever up for more than four hours, I should probably call a doctor.”
* * *
Somehow, the pub only grew more rowdy as the evening wore on. We’d leaned in close, our faces almost smashed together just to hear each other. Not a terrible place to be, but not conducive to carrying on a conversation. We called it a night and set off for the lodge hand in hand.
The little harbor town glowed auburn as the last of the sunset faded away. We had plenty of light to see our mini-bus in the lodge’s drive, although I suspected that eyesore was visible from space.
I looked up, but all except the brightest stars were drowned out by the light of the town. “I wish we were staying someplace more remote. I bet the stars up here are incredible.”
“I wish we were staying someplace more remote, too.”
Duncan’s impish tone made my stomach tumble. Of course his thoughts would turn that direction. Not that mine were so far behind.
