And yet somehow, my mouth kept talking.
“It’s just—I hardly ever see you lately. And when we do get together, it seems the only thing you ever want to talk about is going to America. Living in California. And—I don’t live there. I don’t even live near there.”
He flopped down on the bed. “I cannae help if I’m interested in where ye come from, Emma. Chicago can’t be that far away from Los Angeles. Think o’ them beautiful beaches, aye?”
He undid the top button on his jeans and pulled me down beside him.
The problem was, I couldn’t think of anything while he was touching me—not clearly, anyhow. And while part of me—most of my lower half, truthfully—wanted me to quit talking and just enjoy, the teeny part of my brain that was still functioning demanded clarification.
“Look, I know I came here on some kind of wild goose chase in search of someone who—someone like you. I didn’t really know what I was doing. But since I’ve been here—Hamish, I’ve found a home. A place I love. This is that place. I have friends here. I helped a baby come into the world here. Three babies, if you count those lambs, right? I’ve seen the weather at it’s worst, and I still love it. And I found you, Hamish. That is—we found each other. This is where I want to be. Here in Nairn. With you.”
He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “You’re an American, Emma. Yeh can’t stay here forever.”
“I—I know that. I need to sort it out, somehow. But Hamish—America is a very large country. And Chicago is nowhere near California. It’s like from here to Madrid—maybe further, actually.”
We stared at each other in silence a moment. The electric torch light on the wall suddenly seemed to cast a far harsher glow than it had just moments before. I nervously pulled my shirt across my stomach.
Hamish reached out to squeeze my hand.
“You’ll look fine in a bikini,” he said softly. “We’ll get yeh a spray tan before we go—that’ll cover up all the problem areas. Everyone looks better with a tan.”
I opened my mouth, but was saved from replying by the sound of his phone, buzzing from inside his jeans pocket. He stood up and flipped it open.
He glanced at the phone, smiled wryly, and then looked down at me as he refastened the button on his jeans.
“Emergency at work, pet. Apparently Alec McGuffin’s chrome fenders are ready and Geordie needs me to run into Aberdeen with him. Sorry. I gotta head in.”
“Now?, Hamish. Seriously … not right now?”
He pulled his shirt on over those serrated abdominal muscles and jammed the damned baseball cap back on.
“Look, babe, mah work has to come first, aye? And I’ll be back by tomorrow night.” He reached over to my wee bedside table and slipped the condom packet back into his wallet.
A little part of me died right then.
As he went to close the wallet, a stiff piece of cardboard stuck out.
“Ach—wouldja look at that,” he said. “I found a spare pass for the gym.”
He snapped the card on the table then reached down and pulled me to my feet. “A couple of weeks on the weight machines will do yeh a world o’ good,” he said, kissing my neck. “The endorphin rush alone will change yer mind about the whole California thing.”
He kissed me again and then pulled on his jacket. He stood at the door to my room, the barn night-light emitting a low glow that bathed him in what appeared to my near-sighted eyes as a halo.
“Don’t worry, ba-by,” he crooned. “Everything will turn out all right.”
He closed the door softly and I buried my face in my hands.
I stood in the shower a long time that night. The water had cooled more than my ardor— it allowed my brain to think again. And after the shower, I lay in bed and contemplated the Jamie-shaped hole that I’d been trying to stuff Hamish into. Maybe the fit wasn’t as skin-tight as I had first hoped, but I could make it work. I knew I could.
Hamish stayed true to his words and gave me some space. The problem was, after a few days of thinking things through, I didn’t want to any more. Thinking had given me little beyond sleepless nights, and a pretty decent resentment built up against any mention of spray tans and gyms. But it didn’t change the way I felt inside about my Jamie. Besides, I wanted to touch those abs again.
I woke up a week to the day after our last encounter determined to tell him so, but the morning didn’t start well. Pedaling to the library left me feeling woozy and confused. Katy arrived before I even had time to log in, so I had to leave without posting.
Within ten minutes at work, I dropped a whole stack of plates as I was unloading the dishwasher.