Page 1 of Scotch & Shortbread

1

Candy Canes and Ireland

Blueandredlightsflashed in her rearview mirror and a siren whooped. “What? No!” Quinn groaned. “Crap, crap, crap.” She exhaled in frustration. The entire drive she’d had it on cruise control, but running behind and dying to see her friends, she sped up a little. Fine, more than a little. “Arghh,” she growled as she reluctantly pulled over to the shoulder on the quiet stretch of highway, pained knowing her friends were probably already at the inn enjoying a nice boozy eggnog.

Quinn blew out a breath as she sat in her baby blue Volkswagen bug that whirled with the scent of spiced holly berries car freshener, hoping and praying to the girls-Christmas-weekend-vacay-Gods that she would get a nice understanding cop. It was Christmas time after all. Surely cops didn’twantto give out tickets over the holidays. She absently grabbed a candy cane from her stash of road trip snacks on the front seat, peeled it open, and began sucking with a nervous gusto.

There was no room in her well-planned budget for a speeding ticket. What had she been thinking taking it off cruise control? She was kicking herself now. As she contemplated how she was going to talk her way out of a ticket, she paused to appreciate the sweet fresh peppermint flavor of her candy cane. Savoring it, she told herself everything would be fine because as her grandmother would say, Quinn had the gift of the gab. She could talk her way to the North Pole if need be.

Her Grandmother would also say that honesty was the best policy. Quinn would simply explain the situation. She was not a speeder. It was just a momentary slip, and with the excitement of getting close to the mountains and seeing her friends, well she’d gotten ahead of herself. Next time, she’d be more attentive. Yes, it would be fine. A smile touched her lips as she looked out the windshield to the massive rocky snow-capped mountains. This weekend was going to be epic. Nothing could put a damper on her spirit. Or so she thought.

Quinn caught movement in her sideview mirror and almost regretted looking as she saw the officer get out of his truck. Yikes! Her pulse kicked up a few notches, and she crunched down on the candy cane.Holy hell. This cop was the kind you steered clear of. Tall, broad, and positively lethal-looking in his black uniform.Shit. Yeah, probably not the nice understanding type.

Was it always like this? Quinn felt a bit queasy as her heart rate ticked faster than a court reporter typing. Her confidence from a minute earlier evaporated. This was the first time she’d been pulled over, and she could say, with one hundred percent certainty, that the holy shit surprise of receiving a photo radar ticket in the mail was a far nicer option than the current anxiety-inducing experience of having to come face to face with a cop. Especially a cop who appeared as intimidating as the dude stalking towards her car right now.

Quinn felt like a kid who’d just been caught smoking in the high school washroom. She felt absurdly anxious and guilty.Gawd Quinn, it’s not like you have a dead body in the trunk,she thought sardonically. No matter how she tried to rationalize the situation, she just felt more skittish. Her overactive imagination was in full swing. It was a speeding ticket, not a jail sentence, she tried to assure her overzealous brain. Peering in her view mirror, she saw him closing in on her car, and her heart leapt. God, he was big, and his deadly serious expression from under the shadow of his police cap sent a cold shiver down her spine.

The officer knocked on her window, jarring Quinn from her spiralling thoughts. The first thing that caught her eye was a black gun holstered in the belt around his waist.

“Jeezus.” She drew in a shaky breath. Perhaps she’d lived a sheltered life, but she had never seen a real gun up close. Her overactive nervous brain immediately considered the possibility that he could shoot her if he wanted to. Cops could do things like that.You’re being ridiculous, she scolded herself. Then another horrifying thought came to her. What if he had shot people with that very gun? He knocked again, stirring her out of her odious train of thought. Quinn anxiously pressed buttons and finally hit the right one and her window slid down.

“License and registration.” His voice was deep and brusque and he didn’t spare her a glance.

“Wow, not even a hello,” she muttered under her breath. Irritation momentarily superseded her nervousness at his curt manner. Despite her current state of anxiety and deranged thoughts, deep down Quinn believed that police officers were inherently good people. After all, they swear an oath to serve and protect or something like that. So was civility too much to ask?

“I clocked ye at nineteen clicks over the speed limit.” His deep voice dripped with disapproval. Not giving her a moment to think never mind respond, he snapped again, “I asked for yer license and registration. Tell me ye dinnae huv a problem with that.”

Quinn was stunned into silence, causing him to lean down and peer at her through the open window. Her breath hitched at the piercing stormy, blue eyes that glowered at her. A fresh wave of nerves rippled over her skin.

Despite his deadly serious gaze pinned on her and even though he was completely unnerving her, the most ridiculous thought came to mind. Dark stubble shadowed his strong jaw and his lips were set in a serious line. And for some reason, Quinn wondered what it would be like to kiss those scowling lips.

“Looks like we do huv a problem then?” His voice was irritated and gruff as he looked at her expectantly.

His icy glare almost made her shiver. Right, the man was terrifying, not kissable, she decided, scolding herself for even thinking such a thing.

Her heart fluttered nervously. “Officer, I didn’t mean to…” but he abruptly cut her off.

“License and Registration,” he repeated, enunciating every consonant not interested in anything she had to say.

That got her back up. Terrifying or not, she didn’t appreciate him being a total dick. Maybe she had been going too fast, but it was only for a moment. He should at least allow her to explain. Didn’t she have a right to state her side of things?

“Yeah, I heard you the first time,” she snapped without thinking. Reaching into her oversized tan leather tote, she dug around for her wallet.

“I need ye to step oot of the vehicle.”

What in the heck? Quinn wondered what was with this guy commanding her about like he was some kind of eighteenth century lord of the manor. And was that an Irish accent she detected? Maybe in Ireland, his abruptness was normal, like a cultural thing. Although she always thought Irish people tended to be chipper-like. Trust her to notice something like that at a time like this. Quinn’s mind tended to wander away. She was a slave to her curiosity. Occasionally, her rabid inquisitiveness could be a problem—the present perhaps being one of those occasions—but she was who she was, take it or leave it.

“Are you from Ireland?” She eyed him quizzically. Any irritation she’d felt had all but flitted away at least for the time being. In typical Quinn fashion, she didn’t even think before she spoke. “My great grandparents on my mom’s side were from Cork, or wait, Derry, no Dingle?” She couldn’t quite recall. “I’ve never been myself, but I love how in pictures all the villages look like the houses are trying to snuggle up closer to each other to keep warm. Just all cozied up you know?” When he didn’t answer, she added, “They must be extra cozy at Christmas time I would imagine, although I don’t think it gets as cold as it does here.” She looked at him expectantly as if awaiting him to join the conversation.

Quinn wouldn’t call herself an extrovert. Far from it really, she loved solitude, but she also thoroughly enjoyed meeting new people especially if they were from other parts of the world. She had never travelled outside of Canada, and aside from visiting her best friends who lived in B.C., she’d never been anywhere other than the Canadian Prairies.

People and their stories fascinated her, but people from other countries were like the cherry on top of her fascination cupcake. It was probably what made her love reading and writing so much. Nothing better than intriguing characters and their stories. She was feeling skeptical about her present company though. When she looked up she found his piercing blue eyes, the churning depths of a stormy ocean, glowering at her again.

“I believe I asked ye to step oot of the vehicle,” his deep voice rumbled.

As gruff as he sounded, Quinn still found herself oddly charmed by his accent, but that was immaterial. Shooting him a look from under her brow, she clarified, “You didn’t ask, more of an order, but it’s fine, I have my license and registration right here,” she said once again ignoring his request for her to get out of her car. “Here you go,” she threw him a dimpled smile as she re-inserted the half-eaten candy cane into her mouth and handed him her papers.

From what Quinn could deduce, the cop had two expressions. One was an irritated scowl, and the other—which he was throwing at her now—was a mystified scowl. The mystified scowl intrigued her, especially when his eyes locked on her candy cane. Quinn found herself slowly moving the candy cane in her teeth and between her lips as if in slow motion, as she grew self-conscious under his study. Then his stormy eyes snatched back to hers. If she were a weak woman, she’d have cowered under his domineering glare. Instead, she snapped off a bit of candy cane in some kind of weird defiance, and when he abruptly turned away, she wondered if the man was the living embodiment of the Grinch.

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