Unravel Me

“I’m sorry.” Thick tears rolled down my cheeks. Wiping them away with his thumb, he considered saying something. Instead, he kissed the corner of my mouth. I grabbed the back of his head, pulling his lips to mine, desperate to show him how much I loved him. He held me tightly, kissing down my neck, whispering words of affection. You are my world…my everything…always…always…always.

Scooping me in his arms, he carried me back into the cottage.

* * *

Buchanan Street was apparently the place to be on Sunday afternoon. Scores of high-end retail stores lined both sides of the pedestrian friendly street. For someone as well-versed in shopping as me, this was heaven. Warm sunlight shone down as Alastair and I walked hand in hand on the strikingly beautiful granite stonework. I drank in the intricate mix of Victorian architecture and urban design. Glasgow had quickly become one of my favorite places on earth.

“This way.” Alastair tugged gently at my hand, guiding me down another street lined with shops. We stopped in front of a jewelry store. My pulse skyrocketed when he reached for the door.

“Are we going in there?”

“Yes, love.”

Either I swayed or a rare earthquake shook the sidewalk.

“Relax, Lia. It’s not what you think. Not yet.”

He led me to a display case filled with glittering diamonds, emeralds, sapphires and every other precious stone imaginable. Bypassing those, he stopped at the far end of the display. Inside sat the most unique, beautiful ring I’d ever seen. A gorgeously polished cognac amber nugget was nestled beneath a swirling setting of white gold encrusted with small diamonds. The nugget was huge and oval within its imperfect shape. The setting was wrapped around the amber, almost mimicking a hug.

“Mr. Holden. Welcome back,” a well-dressed man from behind the counter greeted him. I glanced at the lapel of his dark suit and noticed a nametag. Alright, Robert. What do the two of you have in store for me?

Alastair squeezed my hand and grinned. “Been getting many inquires about this?” he gestured toward the ring.

“Several. It’s not often we keep a custom designed ring on display when it’s already spoken for.”

I swallowed. Hard. Robert opened the display case, removed the ring and laid it on a piece of velvet in front of me. My free hand flew to my neck, grasping the necklace Alastair had given me only a few weeks ago at the beach. I ran my thumb over the platinum ‘A.’

“Try it on,” he encouraged, letting go of my hand.

I picked it up and slid it onto the middle finger of my left hand, immediately feeling its weight. Holding up my hand, I admired the way the amber glowed and the diamonds sparkled under the soft light.

“The stone’s color reminded me of your eyes,” Alastair said, brushing his thumb over the ring. “I hope you—”

I silenced him with a kiss. Feeling the firm pressure of his lips moving with mine negated any reservations I had about public displays of affection.

“I love you. So much,” I declared, tightening my grip on his shirt. “Always.”

Little by little, fragments of the impenetrable outer shell were breaking away, revealing the man I adored. It wasn’t a complete shedding of the barrier. He kept enough in place to let me know there were still some issues we had to work through. “I want everyone to know you’re mine. Off the market, so to speak.”

By everyone, I knew he meant only one specific person. His penetrating stare was sultry but it made me nervous.

“I only have eyes for you, Alastair Holden.”

The slightly arched eyebrow did nothing to quell the undeniable disdain he held for my ex. “Good.”

Grinning, I pulled him close for a soft kiss.

Two women took it upon themselves to pick this moment to stand next to us and peruse the jewelry in the case. It was clear they knew exactly who he was. They shot sideways glances at me while pretending to coo over the rings. He probably didn’t appreciate these people being so intrusive. Much to my surprise, he fisted his hand in my hair and kissed me with such force I almost fell backwards. Sliding his tongue around mine in long slow strokes, he kept us locked in this heated embrace far longer than I would have expected. Not that I minded.

“My Lia,” he breathed. “Let’s get out of here.”

I swear I saw the two women fanning themselves as we left.

* * *

The level of concentration on his face was staggering as he flipped through a large cookbook. I stood on the opposite side of the breakfast bar, not hiding the amused smile growing on my lips.

“You’re staring.”

“So are you. I’m hungry. Get started, chief.”

He flicked those bright emerald irises at me, making my heart race. “I’d rather not have this go pear shaped if you don’t mind.”

“C’mon. It’s only dinner. Don’t be so…” I paused, looking for the right word, “British.”

He smirked. “You don’t know what pear shaped means, do you?”

Tapping my nails on the counter, I shrugged. I knew what it meant but was more interested in the stare being leveled at me than his use of slang. Those eyes could stop time. Oh, and that mouth. Even twisted in a wry grin it made my insides quiver. Mine. Every inch of him was mine.

“What are you thinking about?” The rich, velvet tenor of his voice curled my toes.

“You. Duh.”

“Very articulate.”

“What can I say? You’re, like, totally hot and I wanna see you naked.” I twirled my hair in an exaggerated manner and winked.

He smiled slightly. Since we returned to his house in Bearsden after the jewelry store I’d been trying to draw out his playful side. The emotional roller coaster from last night had a strong hold on both of us. I’d hoped it would have weakened by now. Strumming his fingers on the counter, Alastair sighed.

“How about we order food instead and do…couple-y things?”

“Couple-y things?” I scrunched my nose. “Who’s being articulate now?”

He shrugged. “I have this big living room that I never use. I thought maybe we could watch a movie or listen to music or…have a snog or two.”

“Oh, those couple-y things. You mean, what normal people do?” I teased.

“Cheeky.” His pretty eyes dropped their shield sending a rush of happiness through me. “What do you prefer? Chinese, Indian or Italian?”

“Keep it simple. You can’t go wrong with pizza.”

Shooting me an exaggerated eye roll, he rifled through one of the drawers and pulled out a menu. Judging by the name of the restaurant, it was something Italian and most certainly not pizza. He disappeared to his office without asking me what I wanted. I made myself comfortable in the museum-like living room. The couch cushions were so puffy I had a feeling I was the only one to ever sit on them. I was afraid to touch anything. Even the remote control for the flat screen television looked unused. The only thing in here that had any personal feel to it was the photo he’d taken of Big Ben with a red bus driving past it.

I smiled to myself, wondering what he was going to do with the pictures he’d taken of me last night. It wasn’t too big of a stretch to think he’d display them somewhere in the house. Preferably the bedroom. Although from my understanding nobody ever came here so he could blow the pictures up poster sized and hang them all over the house if he wanted. Silly, silly thoughts.

“You look like the cat that got the cream,” he remarked, striding through the room. “I’m going to pick up the food. It’s just down the street so I won’t be long. Make yourself comfortable.”

I grabbed the remote and stretched out on the couch, saluting him. “Yes, sir.”