My thin T-shirt did nothing to hide the stiff peaks of my nipples, and if his tense shoulders were any indication, he wanted a closer look at them.
“Do my nipples make you uncomfortable, Taylor?”
“When you’re waving them about like that, aye, they do. Especially when I don’t get to play with them.”
I could let him. That thought ran through my mind before anything else. But then I remembered why that would be a bad idea. Taylor and I were two opposing forces going in completely different directions. There was no course that led us down the same path. He wasn’t going to stay in Seattle forever. He’d find something better, someone who could travel with him, who could be everything he really needed. I was just a temporary solution to a problem. He wanted off the dating app, and I needed a new kitchen. Simple.
Instead of continuing to check me out, he surprised me by handing me a hoodie. “Here, put this on. You’re not going to get any warmer sitting there in that shirt.”
“You’re afraid of my boobs, aren’t you?”
“No, lass. I like your boobs. A whole fucking lot. But I also don’t think I’ll be able to give you the attention you deserve if I can see them through your shirt. I’ve had far too much Scotch for that level of restraint.”
I couldn’t contain my giggle. “Are you afraid you’ll compromise my reputation?”
“Well, seeing as we’re man and wife, there’s nothing to compromise. I could drive the headboard into the wall all night, and no one would say a damn word. But I’m not willing to cross those boundaries we set because you’re...”
“I’m, what?”
“As much crap as we give each other, Becca, you’re important to me. I want to make you happy for the time we’re together.”
I slipped his hoodie over my head, loving the way his scent enveloped me. “I’m happy.”
“Alone in a marriage we arranged?”
“I’m not alone, but I also don’t mind being single. I’m not afraid to exist on my own.”
He locked gazes with me. “Neither am I, but I also don’t want to go through my whole life without someone to share it with.”
“You’ve definitely had some Scotch if you’re talking like this.”
His soft huff of laughter had me sliding my hand on top of his. “That’s why my Mum always calls it her truth serum. But alcohol or no, I’m being straight with you. There’s nothing wrong with falling in love, Becca. When you find the right one, it’ll happen and you’ll see. I know it’s not me, and I’ll always regret that fact, but one day, you’ll find him. The right man for you. And you’ll tell him about this mad Scottish hockey player you spent a year with.”
There was such an undercurrent of melancholy in his voice as he made his speech. Almost like he wasn’t even talking to me, but convincing himself of the truth before the story was over. Preparing himself for the inevitable.
“Why don’t we just lie down, Taylor? I don’t need a drink. I’m still pretty tired.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything else. Then stood and reached for a pillow, but I placed a hand on his forearm, stopping him.
“You don’t need to sleep on the floor. There’s plenty of room.”
He cocked a brow. “Are ye serious?”
“I trust you to keep your hands to yourself. And you’ve had enough to drink. You need a comfortable bed and plenty of sleep.”
“I take back everything bad I ever said about you.”
“You were talking shit, Shrek?”
He snorted. “Oh, real original. Call the Scot Shrek. It would only be worse if you threw out the Braveheart instead.”
“I could’ve called you Jamie. Y’know, like from Outlander.”
Tossing his big body on the bed, he sighed. “Aye, you could, Sassenach. And I could show you exactly why there are so many romance novels written about us highlanders.”
A little shiver ran down my spine at the promise in his words and I decided not to comment on the fact that he’d always said Edinburgh was his home. But now that I knew his family history, maybe it was just easier for him to hail from Edinburgh in the eyes of everyone else.
“Maybe later.”