Page 89 of Of Heather and Thistle
And he saw it. The precise moment her guard slipped. The moment her body betrayed her. The music swelled, the dance pulled them closer, and for one terrifying second, she thought—
He’s going to kiss me.
Flynn didn’t ask. He just read the moment. One second, she was spinning. The next—his fingers skimmed her jaw, tilting her face up. His lips brushed hers, a whisper of heat. Soft. Questioning. She could still pull away. But she didn’t.
Heather broke.
The kiss deepened. Heat flooded her veins, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. Flynn groaned against her mouth. And suddenly, the rest of the world ceased to exist. There was only this: his mouth, her breath, and the fire between them.
Flynn, solid and steady. Heather, coming apart at the seams. She needed this. She needed him. And that scared the hell out of her. When they finally pulled apart, Flynn stayed close, their foreheads rested together as Heather’s chest heaved. Her brain short-circuited and heart slammed against her ribs. She had to stop this. Had to shut it down. Had to— Flynn was still looking at her, forehead resting against hers, breathing just as hard.
Oh. Oh, she was soscrewed.
She wanted more. And that was a problem. Because this wasn’t just a kiss. It was a free-fall. And Heather wasn’tsure she knew how to land. Flynn’s voice was low, husky, dangerous. “So… do I get another dance?”
Heather laughed, feeling some tension she hadn’t even realized was there to melt away. She shook her head, her chest still fluttering. “You are persistent, aren’t you?” He raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t be much of a Scot if I wasn’t.” She paused, her heart racing before a grin tugged at her lips. “Alright, alright. I guess one more dance won’t hurt.”
Flynn’s eyes lit up at her words, and he stepped closer, his hand brushing against hers as he took it. “That’s the spirit,” he said, the flirtation still simmering between them, but there was something genuine in his gaze too. They moved back into the center of the dance floor, and this time, Heather was more relaxed, a little more willing to let herself enjoy the moment.
Flynn led her effortlessly, his hand warm on her back, syncing their steps with ease. This time, they fell into rhythm—steps syncing like they’d danced together for years. “Ye know, you’re actually not as bad as ye were a few minutes ago,” Flynn teased as they twirled around.
Heather couldn’t help but laugh. “Says the guy who nearly tripped over his own feet two seconds ago.”
“Hey, I was just testing the waters,” he replied with a grin. “Ye can’t have too much finesse all at once, right?”
Heather rolled her eyes, but their warmth made her laugh again. She found herself leaning in a little closer to him, their connection deepening with every shared glance and every playful retort. It felt like it was just the two of them, lost in the music and the laughter. “I thought I’d be stepping on your toes all night.”
“You’re a quick learner,” Flynn replied with a wink, hishand resting lightly on her waist. “I’ll give you that.”
As they danced, the world around them seemed to disappear, the pub noise fading into the background. It was just the two of them, spinning and laughing, caught up in something that felt like both the beginning and the end of something entirely new. As the final notes of the ceilidh faded and the crowd began to thin, Flynn and Heather stepped off the dance floor, the night buzz still humming between them. The connection was undeniable now, even if neither had said much about it. Always so easygoing, Flynn seemed to take the lead, slipping his jacket on before offering her a warm smile.
“You ready to head back to the inn?” he asked, his voice low, almost intimate in the quiet moment they shared. Heather nodded, her heart still fluttering from their last dance, kiss, everything. His hands were steady, but she suddenly wasn’t. Not just from the kiss. From the way he felt against her—warm, solid, strong. From the way her body reacted, instinctual and dangerous. From the way she wondered—just for a second—what it would feel like if he didn’t stop at just this. Heat curled low in her belly, unfamiliar and unwelcome, because it meant one thing—she didn’t justwantFlynn. She wanted him in a way that scared the hell out of her.
The cool air hit her skin as they walked out into the crisp Inverness night, but it didn’t cool the fire she felt inside. She couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss—the way he pulled her close, the way it lit her up from the inside out.
She’d wanted it. More than she should. More than she could admit—even to herself.
Chapter 26
They walked side by side, and the only sounds heard were their footsteps on the cobblestone path and the occasional car passing by. The Thistle Haven Inn was just down the street, but Heather wasn’t in a hurry to get there. She wasn’t ready to break this moment yet, to break the ease that had finally settled between them.
Heather swallowed hard, her breath still uneven from the kiss, from the warmth of his hands on her waist, from the way he’d looked at her like she was something worth savoring. Her fingers twitched at her sides, the ghost of his touch still warm on her skin. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
She wasn’t supposed to feel like this— untethered, unraveling. For weeks, she had been numb. Floating through Glenoran, avoiding the storage unit, avoiding Flynn. It had been easier not to feel anything at all. And now? Now her entire body was alive with it. With him.
Her stomach twisted violently, her pulse too wild, her skin too hot. This was the exact thing she had been running from.The exact reason she had kept her distance. Because what if she let herself want this? What if she let herself have it? And what if it was just another thing that would slip through her fingers in the end? Flynn’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts.
“So…” Flynn started, a mischievous glint in his eye, “did ye enjoy yerself, lass?” Heather smiled, the tension in her chest easing with his teasing tone. She was still reeling from the intensity of their last moments together, but she wanted more. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so alive, so carefree.
“Definitely,” she replied, her voice more confident than she felt. He chuckled, his arm brushing lightly against hers.
“I’m glad to hear it. You make a fine dance partner.” The compliment sent a small thrill down her spine. They walked in comfortable silence for a few moments before Heather spoke again, her thoughts suddenly more pressing than she realized.
“You know…” She hesitated for a second, then pushed on, her words tumbling out before she could stop them. “That kiss… it wasn’t just because of the dancing, was it?”
Flynn stopped walking, turning toward her with a serious look, his eyes scanning her face as if looking for something. “No, it wasn’t,” he said quietly, his voice sincere. Heather felt a lump form in her throat. Her heart was racing again, her pulse quickening at the thought of what she was supposed to say. She didn’t want to complicate things, but couldn’t deny her feelings.
As they reached the inn, Flynn paused outside the door, looking down at her with a soft smile. “Well, this is me,” she said, voice still low, the night wrapping around them.Heather’s fingers tightened around the strap of her purse, her heart hammering wildly. She needed to walk inside. To end this here. But her feet wouldn’t move.
