Chapter 25

Ramsay

What had I been thinking? Kissing Willow like that?

I stood at the window and watched her leave, the taste of her still on my lips, while she left to be with another man.

A date.

It had been bothering me all day. In fact, probably more than the fact that I was emptying my savings account to pay off my brother, which said a lot. But I couldn't get the fact that Willow was going on an actual date, with someone who wasn't me, that very evening.

I was the one who was supposed to be going on a date with her.

No, I corrected myself. I was the one who was supposed to be watching out for her. Not kissing her senseless and then sending her out on a date with another man. What a bloody eejit I was. For weeks I'd been telling Miles I'd look out for her when all I'd wanted was to get closer to her.

And now I'd kissed her, and I would never not know the taste of her on my lips again. I'd never be able to erase the memory of the soft sigh she made when she sank into the kiss, or the breathy moan she made deep in her throat when I'd deepened the kiss. I'd taken her kiss like I owned her, and I was going to have to apologize, to her—to Miles probably—and yet a part of me knew I'd do it all over again.

Sunshiny Willow, who never stopped talking, to the point that the shop seemed dull and dark when she wasn't around. Flowers had appeared on the shop's windowsills. New music had entered my playlists. Customers were arriving at the shop, not so scared to enter now, and business was booming.

She'd gotten under my skin, weaving herself into the threads of my soul, and somehow, I could no longer fathom life without her. How had that happened? A month ago, I'd been content with my bachelor status, and since her arrival, I'd thought about dating and love and marriage. What the actual fuck?

"I should go there, shouldn't I? Profess my…whatever this was to her?" Was it love? Isn't it too early to be believing this is love? And that kiss. Bloody hell, that kiss had been one of the hottest of my life.

And she was out on a date with another man.

Was it really necessary to keep reminding myself of that?

Yes, because you hate the idea. What if she kissed him? What if his kiss replaced mine? What if he were the one that would receive Willow's smiles and joy and sunshine…because I'd been too fecking slow to act on my "feelings"?

And if that didn't tell me that I felt a lot for Willow, what would?

Do I love Willow?

What would Miles say to that?

I looked down at where Calvin sat in the window, waiting for Willow to return. I understood how he felt.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see a text message from Graham.

Did you know that Willow is on a date with your brother?

My heart skipped a beat.

Ice flooded my veins.

Graham knew my history with Andrew, so his text was as much a warning as it was a question.

On my way.

Please don't break anything. I like my pub.

I didn't respondto that, rage clouding my vision as I stomped downstairs, tamped out the fire, and locked the door after myself. I didn't take an umbrella, I didn't grab my jacket, anger fueling me as I stomped through the rain to the pub, furious that my brother, once again, was trying to take something that was mine.

Granted, Willow wasn't mine, but she was all that was good and pure in this world, and I didn't need someone like Andrew dulling her shine with his slimy ways. As I neared the pub, a thought occurred to me.

Had Willow known she was going on a date with my brother? I'd said his name when I'd spoken about him. Hadn't I? She must have met him when she'd been here as a child. Was this all a game to her? I shook my head as I shoved the door of the pub open.

There was no way we would have had that moment today, when I opened up about my brother, and then Willow would have gone out on a date with him. If I were a betting man, I'd lay money that, for some unknown reason, she had no idea who she was on a date with.

I caught Graham's eyes as I stormed inside, and he lifted his chin to the corner. The pub fell silent as I turned, my vision narrowing to where Willow laughed at something my brother said. Stalking across the room, I wrenched him out of his seat by his neck, fury making me want to slam his head into the table. The only thing that stopped me was the look on Willow's face and the feel of Graham's presence at my back.

"Enjoying your date with my brother, Willow?"

"Your brother?" Willow gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, confirming my suspicions. She had no clue who she was on a date with. "This is your brother?"

Andrew wrenched himself from my grasp, straightening and rubbing the back of his neck, the expression on his face mutinous.

"What are you doing with her?" I asked, pitching my voice low, as Andrew raged back.

"Just on a date, brother."

"You're meant to be leaving town."

"I'm getting around to it." Andrew gave me a meaningful look, insinuating that he was going to stay around to mess up my life until he got the money he needed.

"Why did you ask her out?"

I realized my mistake in asking that question the instant that Andrew's expression changed. A corner of his mouth quirked up, and he lifted his eyebrows, a calculating look in his eyes.

"Oh God." Willow rose, interrupting his response. "You knew who I was, didn't you? It wasn't happenstance that you bumped into me and asked me out, was it? You were looking to mess with Ramsay. I'm just a pawn to you."

"A girl like you would have let me have a taste though." Andrew laughed, confirming Willow's fears, and I wanted to murder him on the spot for the defeat that I saw on her face. Her shoulders slumped and tears shimmered. "It was just by chance that I saw you in the shop, and I knew you were working for him. The plan kind of came together on the fly."

Two things happened at once.

Tears fell from Willow's eyes, and she grabbed her handbag, while I drove a fist into my brother's stomach, toppling him at the waist. Willow turned and ran from the pub, and I raised my fists again, determined to take my brother apart, piece by piece, until he could no longer hurt someone else that I cared about.

"I've got him, lad. Go after her." Graham shouldered me aside, and my chest rose with the exertion it was taking not to lay into Andrew. Graham grabbed my chin, forcing my eyes to his. "Go. After. Willow."

"Don't be nice," I hissed.

A very dangerous smile flashed across Graham's face, and he pushed his sleeves up his arms.

"It won't be my fault if he bangs his head a time or two while I assist him off the premises."

Satisfied that Graham would finish the job, I crossed the pub. Agnes was by the door, worry on her face.

"You're going after her? Should I come?"

"No."

Agnes took one look at my face, and a smile bloomed. She patted me on the arm as I passed her.

"Good on you, lad."

I ran outside as Willow turned the corner at the end of the street. Hell if I was going to let her disappear into the night, feeling like she wasn't worth a man treating her well. The rain pounded down, water running in rivulets down the street, and I caught up to her as she turned on the street to the shop. She must be going to get Calvin, but she didn't know yet that I wasn't letting her out of my sight. No, tonight was going to be about showing Willow just what she was worth.

"Willow."

Willow wheeled around, her face drenched in sadness, and she held up a hand to stop me from stepping closer.

"I'm fine, Ramsay. Just go."

She was clearly not fine. Her body shook as she gulped for air, trying to stem the flow of tears as she dashed the back of her palms against her face, even though it was useless given the deluge of rain.

"Willow." I stepped forward, putting my hands on her shoulders and nudged her backward until her back hit the door of my shop. I wanted to get her inside, away from the rain, to protect her from anything that would hurt her in this life. "Look at me."

"I said I'm fine, Ramsay. I'm sorry, okay? I wouldn't deliberately do that to you. I didn't know it was your brother."

"I know, darling."

"You do?" Willow's hands gripped my arms, and she lifted her eyes to me, her face ravaged. "I wouldn't have hurt you like that."

"I knew when Graham texted me that you were there with him that you didn't know who he was, Willow. I came to stop him from hurting you."

"God, I'm so freaking dumb." At that, the tears started all over again. "Of course he wouldn't pick me up at the store. Women like me?—"

"Women like you what?" I was dangerously close to dropping to my knees and burying my face between her legs to show her just what I wanted to do with a woman "like her."

"No, that's wrong. That's an intrusive thought." Willow lectured herself, literally smacking the side of her head lightly. "It's my fault. I put expectations on this date. I'd been caught up in the novelty of having a fun meet-cute, you know?"

"I have no idea what a meet-cute is." But she was talking to me, so that was something.

"Just the idea of someone seeing you across a room and asking you out." Willow flailed a hand in the air. "It's in all the romcom movies and stuff. I wanted that for me. Even if just once."

"You wanted a stranger to invade your space in public and demand you have a drink with him?" I raised an eyebrow at her, and reached for the key in my pocket, all while trying to shelter her from the worst of the rain.

Willow gulped out a sound torn between a laugh and a sob.

"No. Yes. I don't know. Not demand. And yes, getting hit on in public can be super awful and crude and make women feel unsafe. Yet in a weird way we've been taught to feel like it can also be flattering or bloom into a relationship. That's how people met before dating apps and all that. But it's just…it's just nice to feel wanted, sometimes, you know? But I'm good, Ramsay. I'm fine." Willow schooled her expression, clearly seeing something on my face. "You don't have to fix this for me. This is just a me thing, not a you thing, okay?"

"Are you sure about that, Willow?" I brought my face close enough to feel her breath tickle my lips. "Because I'm pretty sure it's an us thing."

"Us?" Willow's voice caught.

"Aye, lass." Brushing my thumb across her lower lip that still trembled from her tears, I opened the door and angled Willow to step backward, and out of the rain. The shop was still warm from the fire, a few lamps that I'd left on casting their light around the room.

The click of the door closing behind us sounded amplified, an audible marker of the line we were crossing, the boundaries I'd set for myself with Willow being burned to the ground.

Because I'd always followed the rules. I was the fair one. The reliable one. A good son, a good brother, a good boss, and a good friend. And for some reason, even with my less-than-stellar personality, people were drawn to me and trusted me. I'd been suppressing my feelings for Willow from day one, because that was what a good person did. They respected boundaries. They did the right thing.

But just this once, as Willow's lower lip trembled, and tears still shimmered in her eyes, I wanted to be very, very bad. I wanted to kiss her until she knew that every man who'd hurt her in the past had been too stupid to understand the gift they had in their hands. I wanted to wipe any last trace of uncertainty from her mind that she was anything less than a goddess. And I didn't care, not in this moment, if Miles would be mad at me or if it was crossing lines between a boss and employee. The only thing I cared about was wiping that dejected look from Willow's face forever. And showing her what she means to me.

Crowding her, I backed her into the desk at the corner of the room, and she gasped, grabbing the edge and catching herself from falling backward. Leaning over, I caged her in place with my arms, bringing my mouth close to her ear.

"You and me, Willow. Tell me you've thought about it like I have." I pressed my face to her hair, inhaling that toasted marshmallow scent of hers, and I swear my knees almost went weak.

"I … um?—"

"You've been driving me crazy since the moment you turned around in the car park at MacAlpine Castle."

"I have?"

I shifted my head and nibbled lightly at the pale, delicate lobe of her ear, her breath hot at my neck.

"Aye. Driving me to distraction at work. I can't look at you and not want to touch."

"Really?" Willow drew the word out as though she didn't believe me, and I sunk my teeth into her lobe, biting just hard enough for her breath to catch.

"I told you what I thought about your body, didn't I?"

"Oh, um, yeah, I guess you did."

"Do you think I'm a liar?" I shifted slightly, finding the pulse at her neck with my lips, and holding my mouth to it while her skin heated.

"No, I don't." Willow swallowed, the sound audible against my face, and I smiled into her neck.

"Now let me tell you what I think about you as a woman."

"Ramsay, you don't have to…" Willow tried to shift out of my arms, but I held her in place, kissing my way up her neck, across her chin, until I pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.

A thousand emotions swam in their depths, and I was drowning, drowning in the sea of her glory, gasping for her to throw me a lifeline.

"Once I got over the shock of how beautiful you'd become, I quickly learned that beauty transcended your looks. You're sunshine in a designer dress, Willow. You care, deeply, about those around you, and always look to make their day a little better. You don't hesitate to help, and jump without looking, not caring how you land. You're wickedly funny, surprisingly so, and I've laughed more in a few weeks than I have in ages since you've arrived. You're loud, completely disobedient, disruptive, and yet I find myself looking for you, wondering when I'll see you next. And when you're gone? The shop feels empty without you."

Willow's eyes filled again, and I cursed myself for fumbling this.

"Do not let my piece of shite brother, or anyone, for that matter, ever let you feel like you're less than enough."

"Damn it, Ramsay." Willow shuddered in a deep breath, a tear tipping over the edge of her lashes and streaming down her cheek. "For a man who never talks, you certainly have a way with words."

"I save them up for when they matter."

"And this? This matters?" Willow's words were a whisper, a plea, which I answered with my lips on hers.

"Aye, it does."

Willow's hand came to my face, her fingers tracing my jawline, and I bent my forehead to hers.

"Say you want me as much as I want you." I needed to hear it, my control tenuous at best, and when she nodded, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, I pressed a touch harder with my forehead. "The words, lass."

"I…I want you, Ramsay. So, so much."

"As you wish, darling." There would be time to be gentle another time. I'd spent weeks on edge, fighting my urge to touch her, and now it was like I'd been given the winning lottery numbers. Scooping her into my arms, I carried her through the shop, Calvin meowing as I went past where he sat on his cat tree.

"You're staying down here, you wee beastie." The last thing I needed was a claw sinking into a delicate spot at an inopportune moment, and I didn't trust the kitten enough not to pounce. I dashed up the stairs as Willow gasped against my neck, laughing as I careened into my bedroom and kicked the door closed behind me. The room was dark, and I found my way to the bed by memory and dropped her onto the mattress. "Don't move."

Stepping back, I flipped a small bedside lamp on, the light soft against the wood beams that ran the length of the ceiling. I loved this room, which was the perfect space just for me, and I'd kept the decorations to a minimum to let the rustic beauty shine. The bedroom ranged across the entire top floor, with high ceilings, stone walls, and antique wood doors on the closet. I had sourced a thick rug in earthy tones to toss over the wood floors and had somehow managed to wrangle a king-sized bed up the stairs. Which I was exceedingly grateful for now as I prowled forward to where Willow sat, a myriad of emotions running across her lovely face.

"That's better. I want to be able to see every inch of your body, to watch you come undone under my touch, to learn what makes you moan."

"Oh." Willow's lips rounded to a perfect O as I dropped to my knees in front of her. "Don't the Scots use the word moaning to mean complaining?"

I buried my face in her lap, laughing against her thigh, as my hands worked to pull the tights down that she wore underneath that ridiculous sparkly skirt that I had a love-hate relationship with. I loved it because it curved around her bum so nicely, and I hated it because the shimmer drew my eye constantly.

This was also new for me. This laughing during sex. I'd always prided myself on being a focused lover, determined that the woman would find her pleasure first, and I was very good at staying focused on the task at hand. But now, as Willow's words made me laugh into the supple skin at her leg, something inside me loosened. Maybe there could be both. An ease and an intensity in lovemaking.

With the right person that is.

Desperate for a taste of her, I put my hand on Willow's stomach and pushed back. She fell with a gasp of laughter, and then howled when I bit the inside of her thigh as I worked her boots off her feet. Once done, I barely hesitated before ripping the tights from her legs.

"Ramsay!" Willow shrieked, struggling to sit up, but I just pushed her down again. "Do you know how hard it is to find good tights?"

"Fuck the tights. I'll buy you a dozen pairs. I've been dreaming of doing this since the first time you wore this stupid skirt to my shop."

"Eeep," Willow squeaked, her head falling back to the bed as I licked my way up her inner thigh, loving how her legs felt under my hands. Easing them wider, I pushed her skirt up and ran a finger over her black lace thong.

"How much do you care about these?" I asked, tracing my finger up and down the lace that covered her seam, loving how she jerked beneath my touch. "Because they're in my way."

"They're my favorite," Willow admitted on a groan, and I smiled, leaning over to kiss her through the lace, blowing a hot breath across her skin as she jerked. Hooking my thumbs under the material, I rolled the lace down her legs and tossed it behind me, growling as I returned my mouth to her. With the lace no longer impeding me, I sank into her softness, licking her straight through. Willow's body jerked under my face, and I reached under her, sinking my fingers into that juicy bum that I'd been dying to touch for weeks, and pulled her harder against my face, needing to tip her over the edge as much as I needed my next breath.

Desire raged through me, my body taut with the need to be buried deep inside of her, and when she shattered around my face, her hands digging into my hair and pulling tight as she cried out, spasming as I licked her, I smiled.

One day I'd take my time with this. Savor her like an expensive dessert at the finest restaurant. Linger over her pretty petals, teasing her until she begged for more. But today, I had no patience.

Bringing my head up, I gripped her thighs as Willow propped herself up on her elbows.

"Take off your top. I want to see you."

"Um."

"Undress for me, Willow. I want to watch."

Her eyes widened as I cupped myself, the need too great, and stroked myself through my pants as Willow pulled her jumper over her head, revealing a see-through black mesh bra that almost had me coming into my own hand. Her breasts hung heavy and voluptuous against her round stomach, and the black bra contrasted with the sparkles of the skirt and glorious expanse of smooth, gorgeous skin almost had my eyes rolling back in my head.

"Bloody hell, you're magnificent."

Willow's cheeks pinkened as I stared at her, frozen at her beauty, as I stroked myself. Fecking hell, she's glorious. Absolutely glorious. Realizing how dangerously close I was to losing my cool, I reached for her. "I promise to go slowly next time, lass, but if I don't feel you clenching around my cock in about three seconds, I'm going to lose my mind."

"Why do I find this so hot?" Willow wondered as I dropped my head to her breast, the mesh barely acting as a covering for her pert nipple, and sucked.

"Because you like being told what to do?" I bit the inside of her breast, chuckling as she swatted my back, and then hauled her farther up the bed so I could cover her with my body.

"I do not!" Willow's protest was lost as I kissed her, open-mouthed, needing the slick slide of her tongue against mine as I unbuckled my belt with one hand.

"Pull my jumper off." I leaned back, and Willow ripped my jumper and the shirt below it off, running her hands down my naked chest as soon as she got access to my skin.

"There's a good lass." I bent to take her mouth again and swallowed her laugh.

"Damn it, Ramsay, I shouldn't like this."

"But you do, don't you, darling?" I ran my hand up her stomach, tracing small circles at her side, before cupping a breast with my palm and running a thumb over her hard nipple.

"I don't like when other people take control of…ohhhh," Willow moaned against my mouth as I slipped a finger inside her, caressing her wet heat, testing her readiness for me.

"Your body seems to say otherwise, Willow."

"She's a lying whore," Willow promised me, and once again, I found myself laughing as I pulled back and divested myself of my trousers.

"I like her," I said as I ran a condom over my length and then angled myself over the bed. "I'm going to need you to scoot back on the bed there, darling."

"Ohhhh…kay," Willow said, inching her way backward, her cheeks flushed. I crawled after her, rolling to my back at her side, and she blinked down at me.

"Whatcha doing down there?"

"Admiring the view," I said, brushing my thumb across her nipple and sending a shiver across her body. Willow was incredibly responsive, and I was enjoying watching her react to my touches. Trailing my hands down the satiny skin at her side, I tapped her thigh.

"Willow? I'm going to need for you to open up."

"Like this?" Willow spread her knees a bit, and her hips jerked when I brushed a finger over her.

"Yes, just like that. Good. Now, I'm going to need you to put a knee on either side of my head so I can settle in for a good long while, otherwise I'm going to throw you down and take you so fast you won't know how to pronounce your own name anymore."

Willow gulped.

"Admittedly, that doesn't sound awful."

I grinned, still lying on my back, and tapped my shoulders.

"Come on darling. Have a seat."

"Oh my God," Willow breathed, interest sparking in her eyes. "Seriously?"

"Haven't you done this before?"

"I mean, the basic mechanics of it, yes, since you so nicely brought me to orgasm that way just a few moments ago. But not, like, in this particular position." Willow worried her lower lip, curiosity in her eyes.

‘Trust me, you'll love it."

"But—"

"What are you worried about?"

"Um." Willow leaned over and stage-whispered, "What if you die?"

I laughed, tugging on one of her curls to bring her lips to mine.

"Willow?"

"Yes, Ramsay?" Willow's voice rasped against my mouth.

"First of all, that's a fine way to go if I'm meant to go that way. And secondly, have I not, on more than one occasion, very easily lifted you when needed?"

"Um, yes, you have at that."

"I'll tap your thigh if I'm in distress," I promised, grinning as her eyes widened, "but I don't think it's going to be me needing assistance soon."

"I mean if you're that cocky." Willow climbed over, her gorgeous thighs cocooning my head, and I reached up, gripping her juicy bum with my hands and pulling her close until she landed perfectly on my face.

And then I feasted.

It didn't take long for Willow to stop supporting herself, holding her body off me out of fear of hurting me, and lean into the experience. Her thighs trembled against my face as I licked, spreading my tongue across her, opening her up to find her most sensitive spot like it was a present to be unwrapped. There, I took my time sucking and nibbling, varying my strokes and pressure, until Willow's hips began to jerk in my hands, and soon she was riding my face. I held her there, enjoying the noises she made as she bucked against me, taking her pleasure at my mouth.

Bloody hell, but she tasted sweet.

"Oh, Ramsay!" she cried. Her release was like honey. Bliss. Fecking hell, this woman was incredible.

She rolled off me the instant she was finished, surprise on her pretty face.

"Miss me?" I asked, sitting up.

"Oh, was it you who was down there?" Willow pretended nonchalance, and I laughed, leaning over to kiss her while I easily rearranged her body on the bed, kneeling between her legs.

"Just your friendly neighborhood kiltmaker," I said.

"Very friendly by the looks of it."

"It's why I'm so grumpy with people. Otherwise, all this friendliness will just pour out of me." Willow snorted as I brushed my hard length against her. Her eyes widened as I teased her, running myself between her slick folds, before bringing my face to her neck and biting.

"Bitey too, are you?" Willow gasped, rolling her hips against mine, trying to take me inside of her.

"It must be this perfume you wear. It smells like toasted marshmallow. Makes me want to take you apart, bite by bite."

"You never talk. Like never. And once you do, this is the stuff that comes out?" Willow said and I laughed softly against her neck.

"That's why I don't talk a lot. Danger of all these dirty thoughts slipping out."

"I had no idea," Willow said. "I would have forced you to talk sooner."

"Is that right? There's something you should know about me though, Willow."

I lifted my head so my eyes met her, as I positioned myself at her entrance.

"What's that?" Willow gasped.

"You can't force me to do anything. I take what I want." I thrust inside her in one long stroke, and Willow's eyes fluttered closed for a second, a soft keening sound leaving her lips. "And I've wanted you. Just like this. For weeks now."

"Well, jeez, why didn't you just say so?" Willow gasped against my lips and then we were both lost as she rolled her hips sharply to meet my thrusts, her hot wetness enveloping me so completely that when she clenched around me, I let go, falling over the brink into a pleasure so deep that spots danced behind my eyes. Helpless not to, I plunged into her again, needing to feel her clench around me as much as I needed my next breath. Over and over, I drove into her soft, wet heat, and my body tensed, pleasure careening through me. Unable to stop, I thrust a few more times, as Willow shattered around me, and then I dropped to the mattress, still buried inside of her.

Turning my head, I found her looking at me, her cheeks flushed, her eyes happy, a smile loose around her lips. This. This was how I wanted her to look. Not that pinched expression of sadness and resignation. Now she looked satiated, happy, and relaxed. I vowed to keep that expression on her face.

"I promise I can last longer when I'm not pent-up from weeks of wanting you."

At that, her eyes lit. She lifted her wrist, pretending to check an imaginary watch.

"I was going to say…"

I tackled her, pressing kisses against her throat, while she howled with laughter.

And then I wondered what I had to do to keep this—keep her—like this forever. Mine.