Page 52 of Highland Games
‘It won’t take long. Soon you’ll be saying “och aye the noo” and eating haggis like the rest of us.’
‘I don’t have that stereotyped a view!’
‘Kilts, shortbread and bagpipes? Isn’t that what you said the website should have?’ Rory asked with a grin.
Zoe blushed. ‘Gotta give the tourists what they expect.’
They rounded a corner and a loud ping came from Rory’s phone, lying on the seat between them. Zoe took advantage of his attention on the road to look at it. It was a text from someone named Lucy. She could read the beginning of it:Hi, I saw your mum yesterday.
Zoe looked left out of the window as the road straightened and Rory glanced down. She was itching to ask who Lucy was.
They continued to drive in silence for a few seconds, then another ping came through. Zoe couldn’t help herself. She zeroed in on the phone in time to see another message.I’ve missed your kisses.
Rory lifted the phone and threw it on the floor by his feet.
‘Do you need to get that?’
‘No,’ he replied curtly.
Zoe knew something was up but thought it best to stay silent. One minute he’d been fine and the next minute thunder clouds had rolled in. She was not going to ask who Lucy was. Not yet anyway. She stifled a yawn, settled herself into the seat and closed her eyes. She was going to allow herself time to fantasise.
As they ate up the miles, her mind had them married. They were driving along, her right hand resting on his thigh. Occasionally he would glance from the road to her, looking at her with smouldering intent. Sleeping in the back were their golden-haired children, William and Shona. Everything was perfect, everything was complete.
18
Rory stood in the queue to pay for petrol, looking out of the window at Zoe asleep in the van. He never knew joy and pain could be so intimately bound together. The joy of being around her, and the pain of knowing it was all going to come crashing down. Being with her was like a dream, a fantasy, something outside normal space and time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so alive. But for each high there was a gut-churning low. How could he tell her who he was now? That he’d lied to her? Every moment he kept quiet only made it worse. He felt sick to his stomach. He’d do it today. He’d try to find the right words, and hope for the best.
‘Hello? Earth to loverboy?’ The cashier was calling out to him.
He walked forward to the counter. ‘That obvious?’
The older woman gave a knowing smile. ‘Love’s young dream. You’re a lucky man. She’s a beautiful lass.’
Rory nodded his head in agreement. He saw her waking up and flipping down the sun visor to check her face. She was adorable. She was as strong as acid, etching herself onto the steel plate of his heart, condemning him to a lifetime of printing out the same image, over and over again, a portrait of a woman of fire and light named Zoe.
He paid for the fuel, strode back to the van and climbed in. She turned to him, uncertain.
‘Did I…?’
He leaned back against the headrest, closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and began a pantomime snore.
She let out a wail. ‘Noooooooo!’
He stopped snoring and chuckled.
She poked him in the ribs. ‘It’s not funny.’
He tried to evade her pokes. ‘You didn’t snore, you just drooled.’
Zoe moved her bag off the seat between them and prodded him with both hands. His laugh went up an octave. ‘I did not. I checked,’ she said with conviction. ‘Are you ticklish?’ He shook his head, but his face was contorted with giggles. ‘Oh my god, you are!’ she squealed with glee.
She climbed on top of him and attempted to wreak her revenge. He was gasping now, tears squeezing out of the corners of his eyes. He pinned her arms to her sides. She was straddling him in the front seat of the van, still fighting to free her arms. He got his breathing under control and looked at her. There was a moment of stillness, then he released her arms and pulled her mouth down to his.
Their kiss was frenzied, torrid, a tangle of tongues and need. She wound her fingers up into his hair and he dropped his hands to her bottom, grabbing it and pulling her towards his cock. She ground her hips into him, finding his hard length and circling into it. It was like he’d crashed into the surface of the sun. Light and heat ripped through him. He slid one hand under her clothes, over the silky softness of her skin, found her bra strap and unfastened it. She moaned and rocked her hips over his cock. Each time she rocked back, her bottom bashed against the steering wheel, setting off the horn.
Rory could hear beeping, people calling out, but nothing could stop Zoe overwhelming every one of his senses. He needed her naked, he needed to be inside her, he needed—
‘Hey! Romeo and Juliet! Yous two in tha’ white van!’
