Sparks in Scotland (19 page)

I paused and rubbed my brow against the start of a tension headache.
Courage,
I silently willed myself. My fingers tapped across the keyboard.

We didn't end on the best note, I know. Partly because I was really hurt you never told me you were moving here. My initial reaction was that you didn't like me, that you'd only intended for our connection to be temporary. Just a little vacation friendship or whatever.

So I left Scotland without telling you how I felt. And I regret it. I should have confronted you. I should have told you I knew about the move and asked you why you hadn't said a word the whole trip. But deep down, I was afraid of hearing the truth. Afraid because . . . because I fell for you, and there was a huge chance I was the only one feeling this way. I know that sounds crazy, and it might freak you out, but so be it.

Being with you, being around you, taught me I needed to open
up more and be honest. So here it is, the honest truth. Graham, I think you're handsome. You're funny. You're supersmart and ­talented.

The best part of Scotland, to me, was you.

Fresh tears streaked down my face, but I didn't stop typing to wipe them away. Now that I'd started, I had to keep spilling it all out.

I regret not telling you these things before I left. But I'm so, so glad I met you, because you changed me and made me want to be a better person. I'm also sorry it took me this long to write. Stubborn pride, I guess. I kept waiting for you, but it occurred to me today that maybe you've just been waiting for me, too.

Or . . . maybe not. I really don't know, because you're a hard guy to read sometimes. ;-)

No matter what, I wish you the best of luck in your new home in Ohio, in your new school. If I can ever help you in any way, I hope you'll e-mail me back and let me know. I'm not sending this message to push you into something you don't want. Just to say . . . I miss you. I care about you. And I want you to be happy.

Love,

Ava

My heart was about to slam its way out of my rib cage as I scanned our Loch Ness photo and attached it to my e-mail. I let myself reread the message once to make sure I didn't have any typos.

Then hit send before I could change my mind.

The ball was utterly in Graham's court now. I'd opened myself up to him, and I had no idea what to expect next, if anything.

I closed my computer and darted downstairs before I could let myself freak out about it. “I'm ready for ice cream,” I proclaimed as I walked into our kitchen to find Corinne and Mom talking by the counter. “I just earned it.”

Corinne gave me a proud grin and squeezed my upper arm. “Yes, you did.”

Mom dug into the freezer, grabbed three spoons, and produced a carton of chocolate ice cream. “Ladies, I think this calls for some chocolate.”

Chapter
Nineteen

I
sat in the backyard
and stretched my legs out on the plush recliner chair. The heat wave had finally broken yesterday, so today was balmy and comfortable. Sunlight poked through leaves in the two tall trees high above my head. A number of birds chirped and sang in the neighbor's yard as they pecked through the grass looking for food.

I sipped my iced tea and scanned my phone's music storage to find a new album to listen to. I selected one and let the mellow music wash over me, adjusted the sound so it was a bit louder in my earbuds, then closed my eyes and sank into the chaise.

Saturday was shaping up to be pretty nice.

A moment later a hand tapped my shoulder. I peeked an eye open to see my mom staring down at me, a strange look on her face. “I need you in the living room, please.”

“Okay. Did I forget to finish chores or something?”

“No, you're not in trouble. Just . . . come in here.”

The urgency in her voice stirred me into action. I grabbed my tea, tucked my phone and earbuds in my shorts pocket, and followed her through the patio doors into the living room.

Then stopped dead in my tracks, the air whooshed right out of my lungs.

“Afternoon, Ava,” Graham said in that lilting rumble I'd missed so much. He had on a pair of shorts and a faded T-shirt, and his black hair looked a touch longer than when I'd last seen it. Beside him were an older couple with friendly smiles—must be his grandparents.

Mom shoved me farther into the living room. “Honey, these are Mollie's parents. We're going to relax and talk for a bit. Will you entertain Graham while we do? I'm sure he doesn't want to sit here and listen to us grown-ups go on and on.”

I swallowed and gave a wooden nod, surprise making me temporary incapable of speech.

Graham was here. In my house. He'd come to see me. But why? I hadn't gotten a response to the e-mail I'd sent him several days ago.

Was
this
the response?

“Care for a walk?” he asked me as he stepped close, and I automatically breathed in his scent. It was slightly different. Must be a new soap he was using now.

Since he lived here.

In America.

The full impact of the situation hit me like a smack in the face, and I struggled to get all my runaway emotions under control before I spoke. “Um, yeah. Sure. That would be great. Mom, we'll be back in a bit.”

“Take your time,” she urged me with a knowing wink. She crammed a few dollar bills in my hand. “Go grab a soda or something if you want.”

I slipped into my favorite pair of flip-flops and smoothed the wrinkles out of my dark-blue tank top, since I'd been lying down. Then I opened the front door to wave Graham outside.

The sun was inviting as it caressed my bare limbs. I took a quick peek at his legs—he'd worn jeans the whole time I'd been in Scotland, so I hadn't yet seen those strong calves dusted with dark hair. His legs were lean and fit like the rest of him.

I cleared my throat and said, “Um, so this is my neighborhood.” The busy street was lined with pristine, comfortable brick houses, kids laughing and running around, dancing in sprinklers, coloring with chalk on the sidewalk. “Straight ahead there's a major intersection, where we can go find something to drink. If you want, that is.”

“Aye, I'd like that.” Something about his body language seemed different. Was I seeing him in a new light, or was he more relaxed than he'd been in Scotland? “I got yer message, Ava.”

“Oh.”

“I wanted to talk in person instead of replyin'. Hope that's all right.”

Tension wound around me like a ribbon, and I gave a bobblehead nod. “Sure. Oh, that's totally fine. I mean, I didn't really . . .” Well, to be honest with myself, I hadn't expected a response at all, which was why I was so flabbergasted by his presence.

It was way too tempting to put up the facade and not let him see the way I felt, but I wasn't going to do that anymore. If ­Graham had come to visit me, he was going to see me as I really was.

We made it to the intersection. I paused and pointed left. “That way leads to Rocky River, and if we keep going right, we'll hit downtown Cleveland.”

His lips quirked, and I realized what an odd role reversal we were in. Me playing tour guide to him.

“This is kinda weird,” I admitted with an awkward laugh. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologize.” He maintained a polite distance from me, but his eyes seemed like they were saying something I couldn't quite understand.

I wanted to ask him why he was here, what he was thinking, but I'd already done all the confessing so far. If anything else was going to happen, I needed him to be the one to start that discussion. Pride or no, it was important to me.

In the meantime, I scrambled for conversation and guided us to the right, where my favorite coffee shop was just a few blocks away. “So, how are you liking America so far? When did you get in?”

“A coupla weeks ago. Been a strange adjustment, actually. The jet lag was brutal for several days.”

“Are you missing home?” My chest ached as I thought about how hard this had to be for him, even if he did want it.

He nodded. “I miss my friends, but we've been talkin' a lot online, and I'm gonna visit home during Christmas. I'll see them then.”

“That's good.”

Our silence stretched as we walked, and then Graham grabbed my arm and stopped me from walking. I spun around to face him.

“Ava,” he whispered, and his hands slid down to cup my shaking fingers. “I missed ya so much.”

I bit my lip to fight back the swell of emotion that threatened to burst at his words. “I missed you, too.”

He pulled me to stand in the shade of a storefront awning. People strolled by, not paying any attention to us. “I was so wrong and I handled things badly. I was scared because I'd been hurt before.”

“I know. It's okay. I understand.”

“I don't think ya do.” He cupped my cheeks and stared into my eyes, and I didn't breathe for a moment, just absorbed him. “When I met ya, I wanted to tell ya a thousand times that I was moving here. But the timing never seemed right, and it was a lot of pressure to put on us when we'd
just
started talkin'. What if ya'd gotten home and decided ya didn't like me after all? I'd be stuck here with a broken heart, knowing ya were only an hour away.”

I swallowed past the knot in my throat. “Oh.” It made so much sense now; I'd assumed it was because he didn't care about me.

No, it was because he did—he did, and he was scared to.

His thumbs stroked my cheeks, and then he dropped his hands. Glanced at the ground and drew in a ragged breath. “I've liked ya since the first day I met ya. When I saw ya standin' in front of the castle, so wee and dainty, with yer blond hair glowin' in the sun, I knew I was gonna be a goner. I tried to fight it, but I couldn't.”

“Me neither,” I whispered. My chest was so swollen with emotion I was sure it would all erupt out of me.

He looked up at me, and I saw the enormity of his emotions at full impact. Graham wasn't hiding anything from me anymore. The honesty on his face took my breath away. “I wanted to e-mail, call, but the way we left each other . . . And then I never got any messages . . . Well, I figured I should leave ya alone. That maybe it
had
been a holiday crush, and that was all.” He paused. “Then I got yer e-mail.”

I nodded and took a step toward him.

“Did ya mean it? What ya said?”

The uncertainty in his eyes, the nervousness, broke my heart. Just like it had taken courage for me to e-mail him, it took courage for him to face me and make sure this thing between us was genuine.

A tear slipped out the corner of my eye. “Every word,” I told him as I took his fingers and wove them with mine. “That wasn't just a vacation fling for me, Graham. I haven't stopped thinking about you since I left. I was scared of getting hurt, but it didn't
occur to me at first that maybe you had my same fears. My friend had to point it out.”

“So ya talked to someone about me?” That sweet dimple popped out in his cheek.

I smirked and stood until we were touching toe to toe, chest to chest. I craned my neck to peer up at him. “Yes, I did.”

“What did ya say?” His voice was low.

I steadied the tremble in my hands and said, “That I fell for this amazing person I was afraid I'd never see again.”

“That's funny,” he said as he cupped my face again. His eyes grew dark and hooded, and his face inched closer. “Because I told my friends back home the same thing.” He brushed his lips across mine, a slight gesture that still made my skin break out in goose bumps. “I'm fallin' for ya, Ava. Will ya be my girlfriend, please?”

Gentlemanly as always. My heart flipped over in response. “Yes. And I'm falling for you, too,” I breathed, and then he was kissing me, tasting my mouth, and I was tasting his. I wrapped my arms around him until there weren't any spaces between us, just two souls touching. I'd never felt as close to anyone as I did right now.

His hands slid down to cup my waist, and the heat from our bodies built between us. His mouth explored mine, teasing, drawing me in. I could barely breathe, and I didn't want to.

We heard a wolf whistle behind us and broke apart with a laugh.

Graham scrubbed his hand across his hair, then said with a chuckle, “We should probably head to that coffee shop, eh?”

I nodded. “You'll like this place. They have great scones, too.”

His mouth crooked into a lopsided grin, and the impact hit me anew. Oh wow, this gorgeous guy liked me. Was falling for me. Wanted to be with me.

We walked hand in hand to the coffee shop, stepped inside, and breathed in the cool rush of air-conditioning. I spotted a table near the front window, and we sat, scooting our chairs right beside each other.

“I can't believe you're here,” I said in a rush. “I feel like I'm dreaming.”

His thumb brushed my hand in little circles, and I shivered in response. “It's real, Ava. And I'm ready to make this work with ya.”

“Me too. I'm turning sixteen next month, so I'll be able to drive soon.” Which meant even more time we could spend together. Graham was the perfect motivator to ace my driver's test. And once he got his license, the sky was the limit on when and where we could meet.

I couldn't wait to introduce him to all my friends. I just knew Corinne would love him.

The smile he gave me melted my insides. I left him there to go order two iced coffees, then brought them to our table and sat down again. He draped an arm over the back of my chair and made lazy swirls with those strong fingers on my shoulder.

I pressed deeper against his side and rested my head on his firm chest. Graham was actually here, with me. It wasn't a dream.

I was so glad I'd taken the risk and e-mailed him. Somehow I
knew Corinne would have a smug smile for days over this. I'd be hearing about how right she was—and right now, I couldn't blame her for gloating.

“So,” he rumbled, and I looked up to find amusement dancing in his eyes. “As my girlfriend, I'm dependin' on ya to help me become familiar with yer American ways.”

I gave a casual shrug. “I suppose I can do that. If . . .”

“If what?”

“If you give me another kiss,” I said with a saucy wink. “That's the first rule of having an American girlfriend. You should make sure—”

Graham cut off my goofy speech with a toe-curling kiss, and I sighed with pleasure and threaded my fingers through his hair.

Yeah, a girl could get used to this much happiness.