Page 1 of Scotch & Dreams

Chapter 1

Oh Fuck

Shehadzerorecollectionof how she got here, how long she’d been here, or even where she was. Deep blue eyes were intense on hers. Concerned. Intimate. Caring. They weren’t familiar eyes, but in her haze of confusion, those eyes brought her an unexpected yet solid sense of comfort.

“How are ye feelin’?” The man spoke slowly, gently. His burr was deep, rich, and as warm as honey on her fractured thoughts.

“I-I don’t know. My head hurts,” she said in a voice that didn’t feel like her own as she touched her swelling forehead. She felt strange. Her thinking was muddled. It was odd. She was certain she didn’t know the man who was kneeling inches from her, but he felt safe somehow. Not lock-your-doors safe, but fall-into-my-arms-and-I-will-catch-you safe.

Panic was lurking around the outer edges of her mind, ready to choke her, but his touch, his voice, and his presence were helping to pull her from its sticky grip. Strong hands gently but firmly held her shoulders. Deep blue eyes anchored onto hers and wouldn’t let her go. Later, she would recall the strange intimacy of it, but at the moment, everything felt off, unfamiliar, fleeting.

“What’s yer name, lass?” His voice was a salve on her battered mind.

“Violet Munro.” The name tumbled out without any preamble. When she tried to retrieve thoughts, they seemed to flit around like uncatchable fireflies. She was certain of her name, but how or why she was certain of it felt like a complete mystery at this moment. It was just there. Her name was clear and rose to the surface all by itself. A moment’s relief seeped into her.

“Verra good.” He smiled at her with the warmth of an embrace.

She found him mesmerizing. This stranger. Finding an escape from her jumbled thoughts, she let herself fixate on the details of his features. He was a magnet for her mind, visceral, Technicolor in her haze of grey confusion.

Studying him brought a desperate focus to the heap of disarray in her brain. His white button-down shirt was crisp with dark pinstripes, and there was a sharpness to his navy blazer. The way the golden skin of his neck looked in contrast to the white of his shirt. His straight nose ended in a slight flare to his nostrils. Blue eyes so deep they tugged at her very soul. And his smile with its slight crookedness, perfectly imperfect. She felt a sudden wild urge to press her lips to his to see what it would feel like to be kissed by such a contradictory mouth.

Her senses felt heightened in some ways, so aware yet so out of sorts. Bewildered as she felt, one thing was crystal clear: this man was an angel in the ashes. The kind of man every woman’s fairy tale heart yearns for. The strong hero who could love her to the furthest reaches of her soul. He was warmth, comfort, and sexiness. Violet concluded, as she stared into his otherworldly eyes, that she had to be dreaming. Her world was as solid as a puff of smoke but for him.

“Do ye ken where ye are, Violet?”

She made the mistake of breaking eye contact to view her surroundings. A beach, the sea’s waves washing gently onto the shore. The air was mild. Long tufts of grass grew at the back side of the sand. She could see a pier all lit up with fairground lights in the distance and a smaller wooden pier directly in front of them. The sun was setting, casting a pinky-purple hue.

Violet looked down beside her and noticed that she was sitting on the long grass. She ran her fingers through the dry blades. Hot tears pricked her eyes.I’m on a beach, she thought to herself.But I don't have the slightest idea how I got here.Oh fuck.

The dream man gently wiped away a tear that rolled down her cheek. She leaned her face into the palm of his hand. She desperately sought the comfort he so freely gave.

“I-I don’t know where I am.” She swallowed, trying to hold back the fear that threatened to drown her. “I don’t recognize any of it.” She looked at his handsome features, searching for something, but she didn’t know what. She was lost. “How did I get here?” Quiet tears spilled down her face as she grappled with the understanding that she couldn’t remember anything. She shivered, maybe from cold. Maybe from shock? It didn’t matter.

“It’s going to be okay, lass,” he murmured as he slipped off his blazer and wrapped it around her shoulders.

His strong, comforting arms wrapped around her, and she melted against him, still unable to quell the shivering that racked her body.

Chapter 2

Catch of the Day

Thiswasn’tLachlan’susualbeach, but he knew it well. He lived close by, up the winding hill and along the shore, maybe ten kilometres away. There was a quieter, more idyllic beach closer to his home. He preferred that one over this beach right in the middle of town. It was typically busier here, more touristy.

He came into town this evening for a business meeting with a potential client. Most of the trendy restaurants were along this strip. It was always a perfect location for business dinners. The meeting went well, and he was pleased. He’d worked hard and earned a solid reputation in the industry. Nowadays, securing new clients came rather easily. As he left the restaurant, he was thoughtful about his success. He appreciated how far the business had come.

Lachlan noticed the waterfront was unusually quiet. Surprising as it was a rather warm March day. The salty sea air drew him in as it always had since he was a small boy. He’d lived by the sea all his life, and it never got old. He decided to sit and watch the sunset before heading home.

The beach was virtually deserted, but thenshecame along. A lone jogger with her golden blond hair up in a messy bun, she wore typical running wear, a sleeveless top, calf-length stretch pants, and trainers. Lachlan sat back on the grass and watched her as she slowed her pace and took in the view. It was one of his favourites when it was quiet like this. The old wooden pier stretched out into the breathing sea.

He found himself strangely captivated as she walked onto the pier and out toward the sea. He knew all too well how salubrious it was. You could see the water below you between the cracks of the pier, making you feel almost like you were literally walking on water. The rest of the world, the busy, the stress, all of it could wash away. It was mesmerizing watching her, as if he could feel her reaction to the effect of the gentle waves and the setting sun.

The serenity of the moment came to an abrupt halt. Lachlan watched, horrified, as if in slow motion, but so fast he was powerless to do anything. A familiar, brief fear tangled in his gut as a helpless memory splintered through his mind.No.

She must have caught her foot on an old board because the next thing he saw was her body propelling forward. And as she went down, her head caught on one of the long wood benches that stretched down the sides of the pier. Her neck snapped back in an odious fashion that had Lachlan springing to his feet and racing toward her. His worst fears threatened him. By the time he reached her, she’d recovered enough to sit up, and he felt an instant palpable sense of relief.

“Ye okay, lass?” he asked breathlessly, more from panic than the run. He squatted down beside her. She looked up at him with a soft smile, taking him off guard. She was captivating up close.

A light chuckle escaped her. “Oh, yes, thank you. I’m not sure how I ended up here.” She looked puzzled as she gingerly stood up.

---