Echoes of Scotland Street (On Dublin Street 5)

My nightmares had returned.

For ages after everything that had happened in Glasgow, I’d had bad dreams. When I moved to Edinburgh they were quickly taken over by stress dreams of the “my teeth falling out” variety. They were better than the nightmares, though, and they didn’t wake me up in a sweaty mess at night, so I dealt with them. Then I got the job and a new roommate and the dreams had disappeared completely.

Now they were back and after waking up early that morning a complete trembling, clammy mess, I’d eventually fallen asleep but then slept right through my alarm.

I frowned and buried my nose deeper into J. B. Carmichael’s latest book as I munched on a homemade sandwich. I was just getting into the story when I heard footsteps approaching from the back hallway. I didn’t even have to look to know it was Cole—I’d grown that aware of him.

Concentrating with all my might, I attempted to ignore him as he walked into the main studio, his footsteps nearing me. I felt him hover around me, but I’d buried my nose so deep in the book that now all I could see was paper and black lines.

I heard an exasperated sigh seconds before I felt hands on my waist and then my whole body was lifted up out of my chair. I gasped and froze in shock as I was gently lowered to my feet near the filing cupboard door. I still held my book and sandwich in the exact same position, my eyes peering over the top of the book, as Cole steadied me and then pulled my chair out of the way of the desk. As he bent down to retrieve an empty folder from the drawer my shins had been pressed against, I finally found my voice.

“Couldn’t you have just said ‘excuse me’?” I was trying not to look at his arms. I knew I was small, but he’d just lifted me like I weighed less than air!

Cole turned his stony stare on me and suddenly started toward me. I refused to back up, but he got so close I had to smoosh my sandwich and book against my chest. I sucked in my breath as the heat radiating from his body hit me along with the tantalizing and mouthwatering smell of his cologne. I now knew that irresistible scent was the sport version of L’eau D’issey by Issey Miyake because I’d found Rae wrapping a gift set of it just the other day only to be told it was for Cole for his upcoming birthday. At the time I resisted the urge to grab the bottle off her, spritz my bedding, and roll around on it naked like a crazy lady.

Perhaps the tension between Cole and me was getting to me just a little.

Maybe.

Eyes wide, I watched as Cole’s face came closer . . . and then completely bypassed mine as he reached behind me for a pen sitting on the top of the filing cabinet behind me.

Unfortunately my body responded to his proximity in a way I really wished it wouldn’t. It was completely out of sync with my brain. Confused and upset, I held still as Cole pulled back with the pen in his hand. His expression was hard until he caught sight of mine. It made him pause.

Cole’s eyes flickered over me before coming to a halt at the cover of my book.

“J. B. Carmichael fan?” he said.

I swallowed hard, trying to pull myself together. “Yeah.”

He nodded and then lifted his eyes from the book to meet my gaze. “She’s best mates with my sister. She lives in New Town.”

What?

Wh—

My mouth fell open as I visibly fangirled. “Seriously?” I whispered, visions of meeting her and having my books signed dancing in my head. I’d known she was an American living in Scotland. Her series was set in Richmond, Virginia, and Edinburgh also featured, but I had had no idea I’d been this close to her for the last few weeks.

Something wicked glinted in Cole’s eyes, but I was too busy freaking out to really notice what it meant. “Yup.” He made a tsk noise. “Shame, that.”

Viciously I was yanked out of my excitement at the tone. That wicked look registered and I knew exactly what it meant. Any hopes I had of meeting the author had been dashed from the moment I’d started a war with Cole.

He gave me a tight, triumphant smile and walked away.

My anger got the best of me. “You’re an immature idiot!”

“I could give a fuck, Shortcake,” he threw back at me. “And you started it.”

*   *   *

Usually I enjoyed Rae’s particular brand of conversation, but that night at dinner I wanted her gone already. Mike was taking her to a movie, but he was running late. Rae had decided to have dinner with me before heading out to meet him, thus stopping me from throwing a snack together and hiding out in my bedroom where I was going to pull out my acrylic paints for the first time.

I’d done as I promised myself and bought the paints with my first paycheck, and now I felt like a kid at Christmas, waiting for an empty flat so I could use them without fear of discovery. The first landscape I wanted to work on was the cityscape I’d drawn from the top of the castle.

However, Rae was taking her sweet time with dinner. She was also being strangely quiet.

Since my flatmate didn’t like anyone asking if she was okay (she usually responded with something sarcastic that made me wish I’d never bothered to be concerned in the first place), I ate in silence.

Until Rae had the notion to speak again. “I haven’t said anything, but I’ve got to tell you my curiosity is killing me.” She dropped her fork and leaned across her plate, her eyes trapping mine. “Why the fuck are you and Cole acting like shitheads to each other? It’s like working with psychos. You’re all nicey-nicey to everyone else and then your attitude turns to ice the second he walks in the room and vice versa. Split personalities much?”