Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Alexander

I wanted her to read books on my couch while I worked on my computer.

Was that weird? That I wanted her to just be there? Next to me? Quietly existing in my space?

The way her laugh had hung in the air, causing lust to spear through me, had me harshly reminding myself how my last relationship had ended. I had worked so hard to find my peace, and now that I had it, was it worth giving that up for a woman I’d just met?

Assuming she’d even date me.

Which was unlikely.

Did she know just how stunning she was? Half the time when I found myself just staring at her, unable to speak, it was because all thoughts had left my brain because I was fixated on her beauty.

You told her she was round like a hen.

Silently groaning, I mentally berated myself. What the hell had I been thinking? I hadn’t meant it like that, and I knew women could be sensitive about their bodies, and I didn’t want her to think I was commenting on her body. Being a professor had taught me to be very cautious with my words, and I always tried to make sure I was being respectful. It seemed that Rosie flustered me, which was something I’d have to examine more deeply. Later. Not when the wind teased me with her scent and made my thoughts scramble in my brain so I struggled with my words.

“One moment,” I said, stopping by my outdoor shed. I’d already grabbed a bag from the kitchen, and swinging the shed door open, I took the lid off the bird feed container and scooped some food for her birds.

“Is that for my happy sunshiny birds?”

“You’ve still yet to meet them,” I pointed out as I closed the shed door. The night was clear, the clouds having blown out over the ocean, and a half-moon lit the fields around us.

“I can vouch for my birds.” Rosie put a hand to her chest. “Definitely not of the wanker variety.”

“Some are. Some steal eggs from other birds and eat them.”

“No, they do not.” Rosie’s mouth dropped open.

“Aye, lass. They do.” Rosie gave a soft little sigh that didn’t sound like distress at all. Instead it sounded like … desire? Excitement?

Och, where was my head at tonight?

“Um, so. Tell me.” I paused, trying to focus on something other than asking her to stay at my cottage with me. “Why Scotland? Why here?”

“Well, when Moira left me the bookstore, I just…” Rosie shrugged. My flashlight had a wide beam, lighting up the road ahead of us, and gravel crunched under our shoes as we walked. “I was tired of playing it safe. Being predictable.”

“Nothing wrong with being predictable.” In fact, I craved it these days.

“I know it. If you love where you’re at, I suppose that’s just fine. But what if you don’t?”

“Your work or your relationship?” A soft breeze rustled the grasses and I was grateful we weren’t fighting the rain on the walk home. It was cold, but I loved walking on a crisp, cold winter’s night.

“Both. I suppose it was a reaction to how I was brought up. My mom rarely stayed in one place for long, always wanting an adventure. She couldn’t even tell me who my father was.”

“Ouch, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine.” There was that shoulder shrug again. “I made peace with it a while ago. But once I went to college and found an apartment, I just settled in and stayed. I think I’m starting to realize now that I craved putting down roots so much that I settled for less than the best just because it was safe. ”

“Was it safe though? You got clocked on the side of the head with a water bottle.”

Rosie’s chuckle sent a shiver dancing down the back of my neck.

“No, I don’t suppose it was. Safe because nothing challenged me and I could predict my days.”

“And then suddenly Moira left you a bookshop in Scotland. Could you have turned the inheritance down?”

“I suppose I could have. But it was never a thought. Instead it felt like a lifeline. A way out from a bland relationship and a mind-numbing job.”

“Why’d you keep dating him if he was so boring?”

“I didn’t think he was going to be at first, but then we just stopped seeing each other. Sometimes I think people live with the idea of someone in their head because it’s easier than looking at the reality of what is in front of their face.”

Her words sliced through me. I absolutely had done just that with my ex-wife, thinking she’d be someone different and the things we wanted from life would someday align. It hadn’t, and her easy rejection of the sanctity of our relationship somehow caused a snowball effect of hiding from them. But if I were to consider dating again, I know it would be Rosie I’d want to try with.

I hadn’t been enough for Tara, though, and I hadn’t fought to make it work.

“That, um, resonates with me.” I cleared my throat. Rosie gave that low chuckle again, and then whirled, bumping her fist against my arm. She’d touched my arms a few times tonight. Was she just a tactile person or had she wanted to touch me?

“Hey, do you think the Book Bitches are trying to hook us up? They keep giving us looks.”

Relieved she’d brought it up, because there was only so long before those women went full matchmaker on us, I opened my mouth to speak.

“Because I am so not wanting to date anyone. I’ve sworn off men for a while.”

I paused, recalibrating my thoughts. This was exactly what I wanted to hear. I’d already been more than happy with living my life solo, and had been blindsided by my attraction for Rosie. Knowing she wasn’t looking for anything would make it easier to just keep her neatly in the friend zone.

“All good here. I’m horrible at dating.”

“Are you really? That surprises me.”

“Does it? Haven’t we already had like ten awkward silences between us?” I pointed out and Rosie threw her head back and laughed.

“Yeah, but that happens between awkward people.”

“You’re not awkward. You’re bubbly, and smart, and engaging.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and I was glad that we were walking in the dark so she couldn’t see my embarrassment.

“Seriously? You think that? You’re too sweet.” She fist-bumped my shoulder again.

“Except for the shoulder kink, I think you’d probably be great at dating. ”

“Alexander!” Rosie whirled, her mouth gaping open. “I am not obsessed with shoulders.”

“It’s not a bad body part. There are worse ones to have fetishes over.”

“Oh my God. I take it back, you’re probably bad at dating.”

“Oh, I absolutely agree.” I grinned into the night. “Don’t even try and picture me trying to pick up a woman at a pub.”

“A train wreck?”

“A flaming disaster,” I agreed.

“Give me your best pick-up line.”

We stopped at the end of the lane, looking both ways before we crossed the country highway, and continued on toward the wee village centre. Turning, I leaned down to her and gave her my best smoldering look.

“Is your name Google? Because you have everything that I’m searching for.”

Rosie howled, bending over at the waist and slapping her knee, and I had to laugh along.

“Hey! It’s not that bad.”

“Oh, oh, it is though. It is. It’s so bad.” Rosie came up, wiping her eyes, and even though she was laughing at my expense, it still pleased me that I’d made her laugh. “Tell me that didn’t work.”

“It categorically did not work.”

“What did work?”

“Long lunch meetings with a co-worker.”

“Ah. Is this…” Rosie let the question ha ng.

“My ex-wife? Yes, she’d been a co-worker while I was finishing my PhD.”

“And—”

“What’s your best pick-up line?” I asked, even though I knew I was cutting off her line of questioning. It was just that I was actually enjoying myself and I didn’t want the presence of my ex to sully the conversation.

“Mine? Gosh, I don’t think I’ve ever needed one.” Rosie tapped a finger to her lips as we neared The Royal Unicorn. Voices and soft music spilled into the night air.

“I don’t doubt it. A beautiful lady such as yourself likely gets hit on all the time.”

“See? Now that’s a much better pick-up line.” Rosie patted my shoulder and I pretended to preen for her.

“What are we going to do about the Book Bitches?” I asked.

“We tell them we’ve agreed to just be friends. That there’s no chemistry there.”

Ouch . Feeling slightly wounded, even though this was exactly what I’d wanted, I nodded.

“Fair. Aside from your obsession with my shoulders.” Rosie caught herself before she went to knock her hand against my arm, and I looked down at it pointedly.

“Damn it, you’re right. I do touch your shoulders a lot.” Rosie sighed.

“It’s fine. I won’t tell anyone.” I winked at her.

“So, buddies then?” Rosie held up her fist and I met it, lightly bumping my own against hers.

“Buddies. The Book Bitches will have to set their sights on someone else. ”

“Say, buddy, want to grab a drink? I’d like to go in there and invite people to my party, but it might be less daunting with a friend.” Rosie nodded to the pub.

“A party? Do I get an invite?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Of course. I don’t even know if I’m throwing it. But the Book Bitches seem convinced I am, so it appears I’m having an open house party this weekend.”

I rarely went to the pub, largely due to that whole avoiding socializing thing, but suddenly it didn’t seem so daunting if I was with Rosie.

“Aye, lass. Let’s get a pint.”

Holding the door for her, I noticed her blush at my words, or maybe it was the cold air, and she gave me a considering look before shuttering her eyes.

Unsure of the contradicting emotions swirling around inside me, I followed my new friend into the pub.