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Echoes of Scotland Street
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Текст книги "Echoes of Scotland Street"


Автор книги: Samantha Young


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Rae and Cole weren’t just colleagues; they were friends. All of them were good friends. This meant I not only had to dodge Cole at work but I had to bloody well dodge him in my own home.

He was beyond annoying.

“I’m kind of tired,” I said, looking anywhere but at him.

“Rubbish!”

This came from Rae. I turned around as she strode into the sitting room now dressed in jeans, a Celine Dion T-shirt that seemed incongruous to her personality, and a black leather jacket. “Get your shoes on,” she said. “You’re bloody well coming with us.”

“I don’t think—”

“Bollocks to whatever you’re going to say.”

Assessing her authoritative tone and demeanor, I didn’t take long to surmise that I was not getting out of this. Instead of glaring at Rae, I shot a glower at Cole. “You knew exactly what I was getting into and didn’t do a thing to stop me.” I stomped out of the room, ignoring the delicious sound of Cole’s laughter.

*   *   *

I was introduced to identical twins Grant and Patrick and Grant’s girlfriend, Karen. They were Cole’s friends from art school and Rae had adopted them too. Grant and Karen owned a small gallery and a professional photography business. Patrick was working toward qualifying as an architect. They were all very friendly and welcoming, but the uneasiness I felt as we joined them in Rae’s local pub, the Walk, wouldn’t dissipate. I felt I had no one to blame but Cole.

As soon as we sat down, Cole somehow finagled it so he was sitting next to me in the booth that curved around the table. Almost immediately he pressed his thigh against mine. With Rae squashed in on my other side, there was nowhere to go and no way to remove myself from physical contact with Cole.

Heat burned into my jeans where we touched and I tried—oh, how I tried—to ignore his presence and listen to his friends talk about work and the odd things people said in galleries.

“You have the best hair I’ve ever seen,” Karen suddenly said to me.

Everyone laughed at the random comment.

“She does, though,” Karen insisted. “I’d love to photograph you.”

“Me?” I was bemused by the notion.

“Yes, you.” Karen smiled. “You’d make a great subject.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh, I fucking knew it.” Rae groaned.

I looked at her in question and she frowned in response.

“You’re one of those.”

“One of what?”

“A pretty girl who doesn’t know she’s pretty. Pisses me off.”

If I were prone to blushing, I’d be a tomato.

“I think it’s great,” Cole said.

Without thinking about it, I turned my head to look up at him.

He smiled that soft, boyish smile of his and reached out to touch my hair. “Nothing sexier than a woman who doesn’t know she’s gorgeous.”

I hated the way my stomach fluttered at his attention, at his compliments. I’d been paid those kinds of compliments before, and my reaction to them had brought me nothing but trouble. Turning away, I was thankful for Rae breaking the sudden tension with “Bollocks! Nothing sexier than a man or woman who knows that they are sexy as fuck.” She looked down at me, seeming to brim with years of experience despite the fact that she was only twenty-eight and thus only a few years older than me. “Your lack of height makes you cute mixed with stunning. Own it. Rock that fucking hair and those fucking eyes. Then you’ll be sexy.” She grinned and preened. “Like me.”

Patrick nodded, smiling at Rae in appreciation. “I have to admit that was sexy.”

She threw him a flirtatious grin. “Down, boy. I’m already spoken for.”

Surprised, I was about to ask Rae who she was dating when I felt the lightest touch on my lower back. I tensed.

Cole was touching me.

I glanced up at him.

With his thigh pressed to mine, his fingertips on my back, and his gaze boring into mine, words deserted me. The noise in the pub seemed muffled all of a sudden, like an invisible wall had encircled Cole and me.

His fingers pressed deeper and my body began to tingle.

The sound of a glass shattering loudly broke the spell between us and I jerked back, bumping into Rae. Something like annoyance flickered in Cole’s eyes, but I adamantly turned away, shifting closer to Rae, who was too busy mocking Patrick about getting his eyebrows waxed to notice I was trying to crawl my way into her lap to escape the sexual tension between me and our boss.

*   *   *

I’d never been so thankful to get away from someone in my life. Sure, there were times I’d been stuck in conversation with people that bored me or offended me, and that was never fun. However, being stuck in close proximity with the ultimate daydream-worthy bad boy whose clothes you wanted to rip off despite the fact that you knew he wasn’t right for you was worse. A lot worse.

In fact, it was downright upsetting.

I berated myself the whole way back to the flat, wondering what the hell was wrong with me that after everything I’d been through I could still be attracted to the likes of Cole Walker.

Inside the flat, I kicked off my shoes in a tantrum with myself.

Rae snorted as she shrugged off her jacket. “You’ve certainly caught Walker’s eye.”

I flinched. So it was that obvious? Channeling the depths of my dislike of the bad-boy species into my expression, I lifted my gaze to Rae’s and stated firmly, “I’m not interested.”

Rae jerked back at my tone and quickly her surprise melted away. She looked . . . impressed? “I actually believe that. A woman that hasn’t fallen at Cole’s feet. Will wonders never cease?” She grinned. “I knew I liked you.”

I laughed softly, tiredly, and bade Rae good night. I was almost at my bedroom door when she called out my name. “Yeah?”

She strolled toward the door next to mine with a swagger in her slender hips. “My boyfriend, Mike, works back shift tonight—he’s a nurse. He usually comes over late and we like to fuck loudly. There are a pack of earplugs in the sideboard drawer in the hall.”

*   *   *

A few hours later I was awakened by squealing. It didn’t take me long to work out that the squealing, followed by male grunts, was Rae and her man having sex. Loudly. Just as promised.

Slightly mortified I hadn’t taken Rae at her word (and now knew way more about her than I’d ever wanted to), I quietly hurried out into the hall, snatched up the earplugs, and hurried back to bed. To my everlasting relief, the earplugs muffled the noise enough I could drift back to sleep. But I did so on the thought that I had never met anyone like Rae. I didn’t quite know yet whether that was a good or a bad thing.

*   *   *

The dog—I think it was a Welsh terrier—was tied to the lamppost on the opposite side of the street. He’d been there for the last three hours since his master had tied him there and wandered into the pub. My chest ached with how miserable he looked as the spring temperature dipped when the clouds obscured the sun.

He shivered and I cursed his master to hell for leaving him there for that length of time.

My anger had begun simmering two hours ago and showed no sign of losing heat.

“You all right?”

I jerked around at Cole’s voice. He stood on the opposite side of the reception desk, his eyebrows puckered in concern.

I gestured to the dog outside our window, visible through the street traffic. I couldn’t help the sadness in my voice as I said, “Some people shouldn’t be allowed to own a dog.”

Cole seemed confused.

“He’s been there all morning,” I explained.

The confusion melted from his expression only to be replaced by that soft look that was a hundred times worse than his smoldering one. “Gives my clients chocolate when they’re feeling faint, can handle Rae better than most people, feels sorry for strange dogs, is gorgeous but doesn’t know it, and has shit hot taste in music.” His voice lowered to an unbelievably sexy rumble. “Are you perfect, Shannon MacLeod?”

My pulse started to race. Shuttering my expression, I looked down at the file I’d been in the middle of scanning. I’d worked at INKarnate for three days and had barely made a dent in the files. “I’d really like you to stop flirting with me,” I said primly.

The sound of movement brought my head up, and my eyes widened at the sight of Cole rounding the desk. I leaned back as he deliberately crowded me in against it, his hands coming to rest on the desk at either side of me. My breathing stuttered as the air thickened. Heat danced from his body to mine, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t stop the tingling between my legs or the swelling in my breasts as he stared down at me with blatant sexual intention.

He lowered his head and I braced myself. Instead of kissing me, though, he murmured against my mouth, “That might be a problem for me.”

The sound of the front door opening drew Cole back from me, and I gratefully gulped in some air. I felt like a total idiot.

“Tamara,” Cole said, surprise in his voice. Catching sight of the pleased smile on his face, I whirled around to have a look at this Tamara person.

I frowned.

A tall, curvy brunette was walking across the studio toward Cole with a huge smile on her pretty face. She enveloped him in a hug, so tall in her high-heeled boots that they were the same height.

They fit perfectly together.

Something I was determined not to admit was a wave of jealousy slashed in a fiery pain across my chest.

“What are you doing here?” Cole asked as they stepped back from their embrace.

Tamara shrugged with an excited smile. “I’m here on a talent scout and was hoping you might be able to fit me in. I know it’s last minute and you’re a very busy boy.”

Fit her in? Busy boy?

My stomach dropped.

Finally, here was evidence of Cole the player. I had no right to feel disillusioned and disappointed. None. So I didn’t.

Really. I didn’t.

No, siree, not me.

I waited nosily to see if Cole did have time in his man-whore schedule for her but looked down at my work as though I didn’t care.

“Shannon, I’m free for the next hour, right?”

“Two,” I said without looking up, “if you count lunch break.”

“Is it just a small tat? Two hours enough?”

“More than.”

My hands stilled on the scanner button. They were talking tattoos . . . not a sexual hookup? I bit my lip, hating that the jealous burn in my chest was already disappearing. Glancing up at them from under my lashes, I saw Tamara watching me carefully.

Cole noticed her appraisal of me. “Tamara, this is our new receptionist and Rae’s flatmate, Shannon. Shannon, this is Tamara. She’s an A-and-R executive for Tower Records in Glasgow. We went to Edinburgh College of Art together—Tamara is a graduate of the Reid School of Music there.”

Bloody hell. She was gorgeous, accomplished, smart, and successful. She scouted talent for a living while I . . . scanned stuff.

“Hi,” I said.

What else was there to say?

Tamara gave me a nod in acknowledgment, a small smirk playing on her lips as she drank me in. She turned to Cole after scrutinizing me. “You never change.”

Cole stiffened.

What the heck did that mean?

Whatever look Cole gave his friend, she shrugged unapologetically. He sighed and turned to lead her across the studio, and thankfully I got to ignore his departure because a customer walked in.

The young woman was looking to have her ear cuff pierced. After I alerted Simon, who was on his lunch break, he came out into the main studio. He talked quietly to the girl in the waiting area and gestured for her to go into the back room. He stopped by my desk before following her. “You met Tamara?”

Warily I nodded.

“Gorgeous girl,” Simon said. “Not the girl, though.” And with that rather enigmatic statement and a cheeky wink, he disappeared after his customer.

Not for once I cursed fate’s twisted sense of humor for handing me a good job in the worst possible setting. I was in bad-boy heaven. Or hell. Whichever it was, it was the wrong place for me.

Beggars can’t be choosers, Gran had always said.

Sighing, I looked back out the window, my annoyance level increasing when I saw the shivering dog’s owner approach to untie him. The dog jumped up at the man, his tail wagging pitifully. All attempts to greet his master were ignored, his owner shooing him down before leading him away. The dog might as well have been invisible on the other end of his lead. My heart clenched. I wanted to run across the street and steal that lonely dog away and shower him with affection.

It occurred to me as I watched the guy sway a little on his feet that there were just some people who didn’t know how to love. I had to wonder why, then, if they couldn’t learn, they even bothered trying. Their attempts only harmed those foolish enough to try to love them in return.






CHAPTER 3

I still don’t forgive you. I just want to know you’re not dead.

S taring down at the text message from my sister, I pondered what to do. I’d been staring at the damn thing on and off for the last twenty-four hours. And for the last twenty-four hours I hadn’t been able to get her voice out of my head.

“When are you going to stop picking these losers to date? God, Shannon, it doesn’t say much about you, does it?”

“Another one bites the dust? What was it this time? Another woman? Drugs? A pregnancy scare? All of the above?”

“You’ve done it now. You invite scum into your life and we’re the ones dealing with the consequences. You’re so selfish, Shannon!”

I suppose that meant it was selfish to leave her hanging.

I’m not dead.

I stuffed my phone into my big slouchy bag where I carried my sketch pad and pencils. It was Friday, my day off. Since the studio was busiest at the weekends, I got Thursday and Friday off instead. Yesterday I’d spent cleaning the flat and reading a book Rae let me borrow. Today I was going to the castle. I couldn’t get the idea of trying my hand at landscape painting out of my head. I’d never painted before, but it wasn’t the first time I’d fancied giving it a go . . .

*   *   *

“What the hell is that?”

I stared at the box of acrylic paint he was pointing to. “Paints.”

“You don’t fucking paint.”

“I’m going to, though.”

“No. You’re not. You’re going to return those expensive-as-fuck paints you can’t bloody use.”

Unsure now, I stared at the box.

Sensing my sadness, he wrapped his hand around my neck, forcing me to meet his eyes. They were soft, concerned. “Babe, I’m sorry. I just want you to get this art thing out of your head so we can get real. I don’t mean to hurt you, but there’s not much of a career in it for most people and you really need to be megatalented to succeed. There’s no point sinking your time and money into something you’re not good at.”

That conversation and the many that had come before it played in my head as I made my way to Edinburgh Castle. I paid the entry fee and hoofed it to the top, where I had a wonderful view of the city. Battling against the soft wind that fluttered the corners of my paper up every now and then, I began to sketch it, already imagining painting it in nighttime colors with streaks of electric tones for the lights.

I was going to use acrylic, I thought determinedly, anger burning in my gut.

I was going to use my first paycheck to buy myself those bloody acrylics I’d returned because of him.

Tears stung my eyes, and my mouth trembled as I glared out at the city. If it was the last thing I did, I would buy those acrylics and use them . . . and somehow, hopefully, along the way I was going to find the girl I’d lost because of him.

*   *   *

Pleased with the work I’d done at the castle, I returned back to the flat in a better mood than the one I’d left it in. Before going home I went food shopping, buying fresh fish, vegetables, and baby potatoes. I put it together with a sauce my gran had taught me to make and took pleasure in the fact that I’d rendered Rae speechless when she returned from work to a meal.

She took a bite of the fish in its homemade sauce and made a little moan of pleasure. I forcefully shoved the reminder of her sex noises out of my mind.

“You weren’t kidding,” Rae said with her mouth full. “Did you steam this?”

I nodded as I ate.

“It’s lovely.” She swallowed and took a swig of water. “You’re full of surprises, wee fairy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t.”

“Stu told us how you reacted to him calling you that.” She grunted. “I would have looked like I wanted to kick him in the balls too if he’d called me that.”

My eyes grew round. “Did he say that’s what I looked like?” At Rae’s nod, I whispered, “Why did he hire me, then?”

“Said you had spunk. I didn’t believe him, but now I do.”

“I can die happy,” I muttered.

Rae grinned. “So come on. Spill. Why did you leave Glasgow?”

Thankful I was already looking at my plate and could easily hide my instant dislike of the turn the conversation had taken, I shrugged casually. “No reason really. I’m not that close to my family. I got laid off at my last job. I decided it was time for a change of scenery. My gran used to live on Scotland Street, so I know Edinburgh pretty well and have always loved it here. It’s different from Glasgow. I was looking for that.”

“Aye, Cole mentioned he met you on Scotland Street years ago. Says you can’t remember, though.” She eyed me, smirking. “Somehow I doubt that.” I shrugged again and Rae threw her head back in laughter. “Love. It.”

Before my flatmate could plague me with any more questions I wasn’t sure I was ready to answer, I said, “What about you?”

Rae put her fork down and gave it to me straight. And I mean straight. “Foster kid. Mum’s a junkie. Dad’s in jail—voluntary manslaughter. Lived in Edinburgh my whole life. Was engaged once when I was twenty. He died. I tried to commit suicide. Simon was my fiance’s best mate. He found me. He saved me, got me into the tattoo industry. Love him to bits. Five years later I met Mike at a gig. He works weird hours, but we manage. Hopefully you’ll get to meet the man behind the grunts.”

Bloody hell. That was a lot to process. The silence stretched between us as I tried to decide which part of that to acknowledge. I felt her gaze as she waited for my reaction and decided the best thing I could do was concentrate on the positive. Her life had been crap. She didn’t need me to comment on the fact that it had been.

“How long have you and Mike been together?”

Her eyes twinkled at me and I was learning that this meant Rae was pleased. “Three years.” She took another bite of dinner and asked through a mouthful, “No ex-fiancé in your past, then?”

I shook my head.

“But there was someone,” she said.

Realizing it wasn’t a question, I just kept eating. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell Rae everything. She’d laid it all out for me, so I knew she wouldn’t think I was oversharing. But today had already been an emotional day and I just couldn’t form the words.

Rae sighed. “Well, not everyone can be an open fucking book like me, I suppose. It’s only with my life, though. I’m good at keeping my fat mouth shut when it comes to other people’s shit.”

I smiled and got up to clean my empty plate. “I’ll tell you all about it one day.”

Rae got up and joined me at the sink. She took my plate out of my hand to clean it. “Fancy getting pissed?”

*   *   *

The last two days had been quite relaxing for one very big reason. I hadn’t seen Cole. Not once.

Until I decided that I did fancy having a drink with my new friend and flatmate and completely forgot that Cole was likely to be there too. And not just Cole. I discovered that his leggy friend Tamara was still in the city when we walked into the Voodoo Rooms and found her at a corner table with Cole, Simon, and Tony. I said a polite hello to them, thankful that Tony was a compelling character who required my entire focus when we met.

“Simon has been talking nonstop about you,” Tony said in his musical accent, before kissing me on each cheek. “I can see why.”

Whereas Simon was the epitome of casual earthiness, Tony was the opposite. Incredibly handsome in a very pretty way, Tony was dressed head to toe in a well-fitted three-piece suit. He was warm, cultured, and sophisticated.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you,” I said after he let me go.

“No, no.” He shook his head. “The pleasure is all mine. You make Simon’s life easier and he loves you already, so I am happy, yes.”

Rae huffed. “I don’t remember getting a reception like that when we first met.”

Tony gave her an insouciant shrug. “I didn’t like you at first. Such a bitch, darling.”

“Takes one to know one,” Rae countered.

Tony grinned. “Doesn’t it, though?”

Rae laughed and threw her arm around him, planting a kiss against his cheek. He pretended to shoo her off him, but it was clear he was only kidding and that there was a lot of affection between them.

I suddenly felt very out of place.

But that feeling didn’t last long. They wouldn’t have it that way.

Simon bought us all a round of drinks and Rae and I stole a seat and shared it. Luckily we both had a tiny arse or one of us would have been on the floor. Across the table, Cole’s attention was being commandeered by the lovely Tamara. I was fine with that. It meant avoiding his eyes was easy, and I could gab away with Simon and Tony, two opposites who somehow made a perfect right. I was falling in love with them and I imagined anyone who spent just a little time with them would feel the same way.

“So I have this woman come into my salon and she asks for my price list,” Tony said. I’d already learned from Simon that Tony owned a hair salon in Old Town. He was so successful he was just about to finalize plans to open a second salon in Stockbridge. “She turns up her nose and says, ‘Oh no, darling, I never get my hair cut in a salon that charges less than eighty pounds for a cut and blow-dry.’” He rolled his eyes. “So I say, ‘But, darling, there are so many gorgeous woman who can’t afford high-end prices. Here I offer high-end cuts at an affordable rate.’ And the old witch has the nerve to say loudly in front of all my beautiful customers, ‘And that’s why you’ll never have high-end clients.’”

“I hope you stuck it to the bitch,” Rae said.

Tony harrumphed. “I look her over very deliberately and I say, ‘In my salon, darling, you can’t put a price on class.’ I dunno what these women think . . . that I’m going to sniff after their gold-covered bottoms?” He leaned into me now. “I start with very little and it was the students and young working people that help me build my business. I’m not going to forget where I come from, you know.” He chuckled. “Although my mother tells me all the time I forget I am Italian.”

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” Simon shook his head. “Half the time I can’t understand a fucking thing coming out of your mouth.”

Tony grinned wickedly at him. “It has its uses, though, yes?”

While his boyfriend threw his head back in laughter, Rae yelled, “No! No, no! No sex talk tonight.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

She frowned. “Really, what?”

You have a problem with them discussing their sex life. You,” I emphasized. “The squealer?”

Simon, Tony, and Cole burst out laughing. I hadn’t even realized Cole was listening to our conversation. Rae fought a grin as she stared at me.

Tony raised his glass to me. “I knew we were going to get along.”

Rae pretended to huff but then stood up. “My round.” She pointed at me. “Use those fucking earplugs.”

“They only muffle the squealing.”

This set the boys off again.

She shook her head at me, eyes glittering with amusement. “I guess I can try to be quieter.”

I smiled. “That would be appreciated.”

“You’re lucky you’re fucking cute,” she said, and strode off to get us more drinks.

“Told you you could handle her,” Cole said.

I threw a tight smile in his direction, successfully avoiding his eyes.

The guys and Rae pulled me into hilarious conversation, each little tidbit from Tony proving that despite his intimidating sense of confidence and style, he was down-to-earth. But I was hyperaware of Cole. He was just that guy—he exuded charisma. There was this aura about him and I imagined I was not alone in being drawn in by it.

I did my best to fight it, though, winning the battle every time I looked over and saw him flirting with Tamara. Player. Player. Player, I reminded myself.

After a few drinks and lots of conversation, I excused myself to use the ladies’. The bar was near closing and many of its customers had cleared out. Glad there was no line into the ladies’, I took my time, and as I washed my hands I stared into the mirror above the sink. I looked less tired, less stressed. The pinched, tight lines around the corners of my mouth had disappeared. My hair tumbled down my back in thick waves and ringlets, and my violet eyes were bright with alcohol. I wasn’t drunk, but I was definitely tipsy. That mixed with the good company meant I was in the best mood I’d been in in forever.

That mood plummeted as soon as I stepped out of the ladies’ and was confronted by Cole coming out of the men’s.

Before I could say a word, he came at me, crowding me against the wall as he had crowded me against the reception desk the other day. He put his hands on the wall just above my head, his eyes searing down into me. “Tamara is just a friend.”

I jerked my head back in surprise, whacking it on the wall. “And I would care why?”

This close I could see the frown lines between his eyebrows and the hint of darkness in his beautiful green eyes, a gloom that not even the mesmerizing flecks of gold striations around the edges of his irises could counter. “You’ve been quiet with me, Shortcake.”

I tensed against the wall. “I’ve been talking to Simon and Tony. And Shortcake?”

“Mmm. I’m a fan of strawberry shortcake. You remind me of it.”

“I remind you of strawberry shortcake?” I asked, completely befuddled.

“Sweet strawberries, whipped cream, and sugary biscuit. That’s definitely you.” He frowned now. “You’re telling me you’re not icing me out because of Tamara.”

“Why would I?”

He leaned closer and I sucked in my breath as his citrusy cologne hit me in delightful waves. “Because of what’s between us.”

Trembling now, I whispered, “There’s nothing between us.”

The gloom disappeared from Cole’s eyes and the gold seemed to flare as heat entered them. “Nothing but a shitload of chemistry I’ve wanted to explore since we first met. And you can stop pretending you don’t remember that because I know you do.”

Feeling the heat flood into me, I became desperate to get away from him. I reached up and pushed my hands against his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. I was tiny as it was. Next to Cole I was an ineffectual . . . wee fairy. I glowered at him. “You should know I find arrogance a real turnoff.”

Cole leaned forward and his lips whispered across my cheek before resting against my ear. “Bullshit.”

A shiver rippled down my spine at his hot breath on my skin, and my nipples tightened. My chest rose and fell as I lost control of my breathing—the air between us felt much, much too thick.

Cole pulled away just enough to look into my eyes, and whatever he saw there made him turn liquid with triumph. I’d never felt an attraction so powerful before, and although there was a mini version of me screaming from the back of my brain to get the hell out of there, I ignored it. Later I would blame the alcohol for just standing there as Cole leaned down to meet my lips with his.

I waited, breathless with anticipation—

“There you are!”

I slammed back against the wall, the moment ruined. Cole squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw clenched with obvious annoyance. He took a few seconds to gather himself. When he opened his eyes the annoyance was gone, but something else was there. It felt like he was trying to send me a silent message.

Pretending indifference, I stared up at him blankly, only managing to breathe properly when he spun around to speak to Tamara.

I didn’t like her.

But my God, I was grateful she’d interrupted us.

That was it. There would be no more overimbibing when Cole Walker was in the vicinity.


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