Lingerie Wars (Invertary 1)

More twitching mouth. She wished the man would smile and get it over with.

“You’re not winning,” he said as he took a step towards her. “And it isn’t only dinner.”

For a minute she wondered if he knew that she’d never before asked a man up to her flat above the shop. His clear blue eyes focused in on her. Her mouth went dry. He took another step towards her and she fought the urge to run. Suddenly asking Lake to dinner was the most foolish idea she’d ever had.

“Look, you don’t need to come if you don’t want to,” she said.

“Oh, I want to come,” he told her in that deep, lazy voice of his.

He rounded the counter to stand in front of her.

“But I’m not eating with you, Kirsty Campbell,” he said. Kirsty felt her shoulders sag with relief. Lake’s eyes twinkled; he’d seen her relax.

“Well, that’s a shame, but probably for the best,” Kirsty said as she took a little step back.

“I’m not letting you off the hook either,” he told her as he closed the gap between them. “We both know that if I go upstairs with you, I’ll want a lot more than dinner.”

Kirsty gasped. Lake smiled. He placed his palm on her cheek. She’d never realised that every nerve in her body ran through that exact spot.

“I’ll wait until you’re sure what kind of invitation you’re issuing,” he said on a whisper as he leaned towards her.

Kirsty’s head began to fog up a little.

“Until then,” he murmured against her lips, “how about I give you something to think about?”

His kiss was lazy, thorough and tender. And lasted forever. When he pulled away, Kirsty wasn’t even sure she could spell her name. From the look in Lake’s eyes, he knew exactly how she felt. He brushed his thumb over her kiss-battered lower lip and made her sway towards him. As much as her mind was in turmoil over the man, her body shared none of its confusion. Her body wanted him. Her stupid body didn’t remember that she wasn’t the woman she once was. But her mind did.

As Lake turned and walked towards the door, Kirsty felt a flood of adrenalin.

“I have scars,” she blurted.

With his grip on the door handle, he turned and smiled. Usually his face was a mask of controlled emotion. Not this time. This time Kirsty saw the rawness beneath the surface. He wanted her. Kirsty’s hand flew to her mouth. He. Wanted. Her.

“I know,” he said.

And then he was gone.

CHAPTER NINE

Once the national papers hit the shops, an emergency town meeting was called. Kirsty wasn’t surprised. The town hadn’t had this much publicity since that hermit guy had blown himself up while making homemade bombs in the hills outside town. The television crews had raved on about how he was a terrorist. The town had ignored them. Everyone knew Jimmy used the bombs to blast fish out of the loch. The town had been trying to stop him for years. The man was too blooming stupid to fish with a rod. Anyway, the meeting was called and with a sigh, Kirsty closed up shop, wrapped her pea-green woollen coat tight around her and headed to the Presbyterian Church hall—the only place in Invertary big enough to hold everyone. And everyone would definitely come.

The hall was packed by the time she’d walked up the main street to where the church stood on the corner of Dewar Street. It was cold in the hall. Fortunately someone had thought to turn up early and get the ancient heaters going—probably Caroline. It was exactly the kind of thing she would think of. Kirsty waved to her friend as she grabbed a seat in the middle of the room. As usual, the front rows and the back rows had filled first. It was always the same. The folk who wanted to call out during the meeting sat in the front and those who wanted to sleep through it sat in the back. The normal people got the middle. She noted her mother and the rest of the women from Knit Or Die were in their usual spot at the front. They’d brought flasks of tea and sandwiches along with them.

There was a lectern set up at the front of the room. Dougal stood behind it, flicking through his notes. Behind him sat Caroline, the head teacher of the local high school who was the unofficial town treasurer and the Presbyterian vicar. The vicar was rumoured to be 120 and wasn’t past hitting you with his cane if you annoyed him. As Dougal cleared his throat and leaned towards the microphone, Lake squeezed into the free chair beside her. Kirsty smiled politely, but felt her heartbeat speed up. Damn man was hardwired into her system.

“As unofficial town mayor, I call this meeting to order,” Dougal’s voice boomed.

Lake leaned towards her, making her skin prickle with awareness.

“Why isn’t he the official mayor?” he asked.

“We had a vote once, but no one turned up. Everyone figured that Dougal would win. Seemed pointless to vote when he’s doing the job anyway.”

Lake shook his head.

“You’ll all have seen the headlines,” Dougal said. His voice echoed around the room. “Andrew. Screen,” he bellowed.

“While you’re at it, Andrew, turn down the volume on Dougal,” said Reverend Morrison.