Page 2 of Gift-Wrapped in a Kilt

Jamie's cheeks dimpled. "You must have something important to say, otherwise you'd never stop kissing me after a few minutes."

Yeah, their make-out sessions tended to go on for a lot longer.

He loved her Scottish accent, but he loved those dimples even more. The sunshine, muted by the awning, made the green flecks in her hazel eyes glimmer like polished chips of green garnet. He couldn't resist sliding his fingers into her long, golden-brown hair and cupping her cheek in his palm. Her eyes softened, her posture softened, and a pang stabbed into his chest.

Jamie. Perfect, sweet, loving Jamie. She deserved so much better than an unemployed salesman from America.

He just suppressed a wince. Jamie didn't know he'd lost his job. He'd found out only this morning when his boss sent him a damn email to let him know he was laid off thanks to downsizing. What a cliché.

On top of everything else, he hadn't made love to her in three months. Long-distance romance sounded easy, but it generated way more stress than he'd thought it would. All his fault, probably.

"What's wrong?" Jamie asked, her bright smile fading.

"Nothing, I —"Need to tell you I got fired when all I really want to do is ask you a question. His gut twisted. "Uh, well, see…"

"You can tell me, whatever it is." She pressed her small mouth to his. "Do you trust me?"

He swallowed hard, but the tightness in his throat wouldn't let up. "You know I do."

"Then tell me. I'm tougher than I look."

Gavin tried, but the words had gotten lodged in his throat.

She sighed, her lips forming the loveliest little smile of understanding. "You think about it while I powder my nose."

"Your nose looks fine to me."

Jamie laughed softly, her melodic voice tickling his senses. "It's a polite way of saying I need to take a piss."

Hearing words like "piss" come from the mouth of sweet little Jamie always struck him as odd. Her three brothers had taught her to curse, in English and in Gaelic. There was no sight on earth like the vision of Jamie MacTaggart swearing a blue streak in another language at her misbehaving older brothers. Aidan was mostly to blame for Jamie's knowledge of wicked Gaelic, but Lachlan and Rory had played their parts too. Her two older sisters, Fiona and Catriona, didn't swear half as much as his Jamie.

"I'll be a minute," Jamie said.

Gavin watched her sashay across the cafe, navigating around tables and chairs, her hips swaying and her luscious ass framed by the swishing skirt of her flower-print dress. When she'd moved out of sight into the cafe's small interior section, he slumped in his chair. Fingering the square lump in his pants pocket, he let his gaze wander to the street. The outdoor cafe overlooked the main street of Loch Fairbairn, the village Jamie described as "cute" and "romantic." When Gavin had asked where she'd like to have lunch, she of course wanted to come here.

He nudged one of the two plates that had gotten shoved to the center of the table. The remains of their lunch littered the dishes.

This town belonged to Jamie's brother Rory. Not literally, but yeah. The Scottish guy all but owned the place since everybody here thought Rory was a superhero. Jamie's second-oldest brother didn't like Gavin, he knew it, and being in the village where the pod people worshiped Rory was bad enough. The guy was a lawyer too — sorry, a solicitor — who could sue Gavin upside down and sideways if Rory decided Gavin was mistreating his baby sister.

Never mind that Rory's little brother had screwed Gavin's baby sister days after meeting her. Sure, Calli married Aidan last year, but come on. And Rory had married a woman for sex after knowing her for a few days. The guy had no right to feel, well, self-righteous about Gavin's relationship with Jamie.

Feeling bitter really sucked, especially when he couldn't figure out why Jamie's brothers bugged him so much. They weren't half-bad guys but being around them irked Gavin for some weird reason.

He leaned his elbows on the porcelain table and rubbed his eyes. What galled him the most was he had to accept a free ticket on MacTaggart Family Airlines to get here. Okay, it wasn't actually an airline. It was a jet owned by Lachlan, Jamie's oldest brother, and often used by Rory. Rory, the solicitor with a heart of steel, had extended the invitation to fly here on his jet. Galling. Demeaning. Confusing, since Rory hated Gavin. This wasn't the first time Rory had flown Gavin here for a visit with Jamie, which made the situation all the more confusing.

"Here I am," Jamie said breezily as she breezed back to the table and reclaimed her seat beside Gavin. "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

He sat up, back straight, chin lifted. Time to charge through the front lines straight into the battle.

"You okay?" Jamie asked, canting her head. Long locks of her hair flowed over her shoulders, and those hazel eyes studied him with concern. "The flight has you knackered, doesn't it? We can talk later."

"No," he said a bit too abruptly. "Now. We should, uh, talk now. I'm going home tomorrow."

Two days with Jamie would never be enough. He wanted her for good, for keeps, not for the occasional weekend.

His mouth went dry, but his hands grew clammy.

"Go on, Gavin." Jamie leaned in, her cheeks dimpling yet again. "I'm listening."

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