Page 69 of Arse Over Irish Teacup
They remained still, just breathing. Watching, waiting. Her pulse quickened and her lip quivered. Why wasn’t he kissing her? Was he waiting for her to move in? Because?—
His phone rang from inside his pocket. By the tone he knew it was his sister.
Beth blinked. “Aren’t you going to answer that?”
“It can wait.” He looked over face. Her cheeks rosy, her lips waiting. He remembered the taste of those lips …
He leaned in, could already feel that first spark of skin on skin, then … felt the cashmere softness that was unmistakably Mr. Jameson.
Mr. Jameson had decided Roan had seen quite enough of his new mistress so he did what any loyal cat would do: he tickled his fluffy tail between their faces.
Roan and Beth split apart, pulling fur off their mouths and blowing the white fuzz away.
“I told you he doesn’t like me. I don’t know why.”
Attempting to muzzle herself, Beth covered her mouth. But Mr. Jameson now addressed Roan, yelling at the top of his lungs.
“I have my own cat at home and she loves me! But not His Majesty here!”
His Majesty turned around and farted, then all but pointed his tail at the door, ordering Roan to leave. Beth had never seen a more animated cat and exploded into laughter.
Roan didn’t think laughter like that could come from morose Beth but it was music to his ears. “I’ll be off now then, love. Have fun painting and I’ll see you Wednesday.” He opened the glass door and stepped outside, then looked back over his shoulder. “And enjoy your tour tomorrow.”
Beth was laughing so hard she couldn’t speak, so she waved goodbye.
Mr. Jameson fell mute the moment the door clicked into place. Which, if it were possible, made Beth laugh even harder.
She had a chaperone!
Once she composed herself, which (gracious me) took a few good minutes, she scooped Mr. Jameson into her arms and snuggled him. “Does this make you my knight on a white horse?” Goodness, she hoped not.
She wasn’t ready for the Crazy-Cat-Lady-party-of-two phase.
She placed Mr. Jameson down then made her way to the art studio with him trotting along beside her. No princess should be without her gallant knight.
When she opened the door sunlight flooded in and she had a view of the garden wrapping around the house. She could see why Grannie had made this her art studio. To the right was her easel, resting beside an empty stool. Behind it were blank canvasses of various sizes and shapes. Beth selected the smallest canvas there was, which was still 24x24 inches. Hey, she wanted to try painting so, like Gram would have said, “Go big or stop wasting my time!”
Beth placed it on the easel then, after putting on Grannie’s well used smock and selecting a palette of paints, sat on the stool.
ChapterTwenty-Eight
Aidan arrivedat Beth’s house eager to get a start to their drive. It had rained overnight, but it was a now bright day. However, rain was returning and might even cut their tour short so he wanted to get going as quickly as possible. Hopefully she was ready to go. It would be a shame if their day was cut short.
He knocked on Beth’s front door as it flew open. There was Beth all dressed and ready to go, holding her purse in one hand and a rain jacket in the other. She would not get caught in the rain on the day of her personal tour.
“Good morning, Cupcake!”
“Good morning, Sweetums!”
“I’m excited!” she said as racing to his car, she nearly knocked him down.
“As excited as a dog with two tails?”
“Maybe.” Definitely! Aidan rushed to open her car door before she did so herself. It had been a long time since she had been shown real courtesy by a man, and now she had two courteous gents.
Figures. When it rains it pours.
She buckled her seatbelt and politely placed her hands in her lap. If she didn’t she was liable to wave them in the air.
