Goody Two Shoes (Invertary 2)

“Maybe we should move back to Atlantic City?”

“I like it here.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that he wasn’t going to move country. That Atlantic City was change enough. But he stopped himself in time. She needed this. And he needed her.

“We can try living here. At least we’ll be close to Josh.”

She sniffed loudly then leaned back to study him. She didn’t let go of her grip on him, and he took that as a positive sign.

“Really?” The look in her eyes was so hopeful.

“Sure. What the heck. It isn’t so bad here.”

“I thought you never wanted to come back to Scotland?”

“I never want to lose you, either. Guess which is more important to me.”

She thought about it. “I want to go on the trip you booked. But you can’t spend the whole time complaining about crowds, foreign food and the price of everything.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

She stared at him, and his heart soared. The damn trip worked! He was getting his wife back.

“Fine.” He pretended to sigh. “I can do that.” He thought about it. “I can try, anyway.”

She took a deep breath. “We can try.” Her words made him want to dance. He didn’t. He kept his serious face on and hoped there wasn’t a “but” coming. “But”-his heart sank-“you have to keep trying. You can’t do this for a few weeks to appease me and then go back to your antisocial grunting self.”

“Done.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her from the table.

“Done? Just like that?”

“Not just like that. I’ve put a lot of effort into this. I’m committed.”

She smiled at him. She still wasn’t as relaxed and confident as he would have liked, but she was getting there. “So, you’re the man with the plan.” She shrugged nervously. “What now?”

Andrew grinned widely. “Now, gorgeous, we go upstairs to bed together and I show you exactly how beautiful you are to me.”

The blush that coloured her cheeks made him feel ten feet tall. She was still his girl. “Do we have to go upstairs?”

“Damn straight we do. You’re half naked and I want to find a bed. My back can’t handle sex standing up and the table is too hard for you.”

“I meant, can’t we talk some more?”

He must have looked as crestfallen as he felt, because Helen started to laugh again. “Fine. We can find a bed.” She batted her eyelashes at him, and he felt like he’d travelled back in time thirty years.

He growled and hauled her towards the hallway.

“Wait.” She pulled from his grip and ran back to the table, where she gathered up the handcuffs and blindfold. She paused then snatched the bag with the rest of his booty. With a wicked smile, she rushed back to him. “We might as well see what these things can do.”

Andrew kissed his wife thoroughly before taking her to bed.

They weren’t out of the woods yet. But it was a damn good start.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

The day of the wedding dawned bright and sunny. The hills closest to Invertary were a lush green; the ones in the distance faded to purple. The sky was that perfect luminous blue poets wrote about, with just the odd fluffy cloud to break up the expanse. The water of the loch sparkled aquamarine and lapped idly at the shore. A soft sun reflected off the crooked white buildings that lined the high street. Birds sang. People laughed. Yadda, yadda, yadda…

It wasn’t like Caroline could see this perfect summer’s day. Oh no. She had to imagine it. Because she was under house arrest until the ceremony. She’d been woken by Josh at some ungodly dark o’clock and whisked away to the castle before the press got wind that she’d moved. Now all she could see was the grey stone of the castle walls, the white of the huge marquee taking up most of the garden and the destruction the renovation crew had left in its wake.