Hell Transporter (Between) (6 page)

“You’ve been through a lot the last couple of years, with the divorce and the car accident and everything. I know how hard it’s been on you, and I don’t want to see you get hurt any more. He seems like a really nice kid, but what’s going to happen at the end of the summer? Is he going back to Scotland? Summer romances are wonderful, but I don’t want to see you broken-hearted at the end of it, baby.” He tucked a curl of my hair behind my ear and tenderly stroked my cheek with his thumb like he’d done a thousand times before.

“I love him, Dad. And he loves me.”

“I’m sure he says that now but—“

I cut him off. “You once told me that when you met Mom, you knew right away you wanted to marry her. Well, he’s The One. I know.”

He stiffened like he’d been hit with a lightning bolt.

After a moment, he let out his breath and his eyes became glossy with tears.

“You look so much like your mother sometimes,” he whispered, giving me a wistful smile. “I love you, sweetheart.” He pulled me into his arms and held me close. That familiar scent of shaving cream and mint gum, that smell that was so
Dad
, enveloped me and I smiled against his chest.

“I love you, too.”

Chapter 6

I have no idea how he knew what time it was, but Aiden arrived promptly at six o’clock for dinner. I made pot roast and mashed potatoes with green beans, which both of my men heartily appreciated. It gave me such a feeling of home to see the two of them talking and laughing, enjoying one another’s company.

“Aiden,” Dad said between bites, “being from Scotland and all, I imagine you have a taste for scotch.”

Aiden grinned at him, wiping up some gravy with a dinner roll. “Aye, that’s true. We had a dram of whisky or a pint of ale at every meal back home.” He turned to me. “This is delicious, lass. Thank you.”

Dad got up and dug through the liquor cabinet, then pulled out a half full bottle and poured some of the golden alcohol into a couple of crystal glasses. He handed one to Aiden, who took a whiff and smiled. He sipped it slowly, a faraway look in his eyes. I remembered the memory he’d cast for me of him drinking whisky as a child with his Aunt Margaret and wondered if he was thinking of it, too.

“The Gaelic for whisky is
uisge beatha
, which literally means ‘water of life.’ It would be a fair statement to say that I’d had whisky more often than water as a lad. This is an excellent batch. Thank you, Gary.” He lifted his glass in a silent toast and took another sip.

“Wow, they must not have drinking age restrictions there,” Dad said, giving me a slanted look. “Sorry, hon, but you’re not twenty-one yet so you can’t have any. Too bad you didn’t grow up in Scotland, huh?” He laughed at his own cleverness, downing his drink and pouring another for himself and Aiden. I cleared the table, giving Aiden a pointed look while Dad was turned away.

Careful, there could be legal restrictions on underage drinking in Scotland now. You don’t know for sure.
I warned him in my mind, then headed into the kitchen to start washing the dishes. The two of them moved into the living room to work out the details of the next morning’s fishing expedition and polish off the rest of the bottle.

Humming to myself, I grabbed an apron off the peg next to the stove and took the heavy cast iron pan over to the sink. I was almost done with the dishes when Aiden broke into my thoughts, his voice deep and husky.

I’m going to miss you tonight, my love.
At his words, warmth spread through my chest as if I were the one drinking.

I’ll miss you, too. I wish you didn’t have to sleep outside.
I sent back to him, feeling an odd rush of sexual excitement that came on me suddenly. I dried my hands on my apron, shaking my head to try and get a hold of myself.

Ah, lass, I dinna think I’ll sleep much. I’ll be thinking about you and your lovely… mmm.
His words trailed off and I had to hold onto the edge of the sink as my knees went to jelly. Desire turned my blood to lava as his mind connected with my own. In my mind’s eye, I saw him running his tongue down the cleft between my breasts. Tingling at the mental image of his touch, I rubbed my chest roughly with my forearms.

Aiden, stop. I don’t know how you’re doing it, but you’re making me crazy.

Stop what, love?
I huffed into the living room and caught his eye. He looked confused and a little surprised at my flushed face.

“Are you unwell?” he asked.

Immediately, the spell was broken and I jerked back, disoriented. The heady, tipsy feeling that had spread throughout my body was instantly gone.

“Yeah, are you okay, honey? You don’t look so good.” Dad frowned and I shook my head.

“No, I mean, yeah, I’m fine. I just got a little overheated, that’s all,” I said, gathering up the empty whisky bottle and glasses. “I think I’ll open the front door and let some cool air in.” I shot Aiden a glare, but he seemed to have no idea what was wrong. He just smiled, then picked up his conversation with my father.

I swished the glasses in hot, soapy water as I tried to figure out what had just happened. We could talk in our minds, but this? It didn’t make any sense. I went back and sat next to Aiden on the couch, wishing I could tear him away from my dad for just a minute. But Dad had launched into an explanation of the intricacies of the real estate market in Seattle, and Aiden was paying no attention to me. I rubbed his knee to see if he’d look at me, but he just held my hand and kept talking to Dad. Finally, I gave up.

Aiden, the weirdest thing just happened.
I told him in my mind and he continued talking as if he hadn’t heard. When I sent him the message, though, heat from the alcohol flooded my veins once again. I leaned back against the couch with my heart racing and my head swimming.

What’s that, love?
He finally responded, not looking at me but keeping up the smooth conversation with my dad, who chuckled at something he’d said. Dad got up to stoke the fire and Aiden turned to me, concerned.

What is it, Lindsey?
I shook my head at him in bewilderment and he excused himself to use the restroom, telling me silently to come join him outside in a moment. Dad didn’t look up from the fire and I rocked back and forth on the couch, trying to figure out what the hell was happening.

Just give me a minute and then you can come out to tell me what’s troubling you. Your Da’s an upstanding man. Everything is going to be just—Oh look, a wee fat cat.
Thick with drink, Aiden’s voice rambled on in my head like a running monologue.

“Weel, are you not a cute wee beastie with your bonnie white stripe?” I heard him say through the open door and my heart stopped.

Aiden, no! That’s not a cat!
I cried out to him mentally and leapt off the couch, but it was too late.

“Aaaaggggghhhhh!” Aiden screamed, letting loose a string of Gaelic obscenities. I was nowhere near close enough to have physically felt the skunk’s blast myself, but I tasted the vile spray in my mouth a split second before Aiden cried out. My eyes watered and I tried desperately to stifle a gag reflex as my nostrils burned with the scent. Dad went running past me at Aiden’s cry.

“Holy crap! Poor bastard, he got you good!” I heard him say. At once, the taste and stink filling my head dissipated like a switch had been flipped and I stood in the living room, shaking and confused. The stench started creeping into the cabin proper, so I went through and closed all the windows.

Dad shouted to me from outside. “Lindsey! Bring me a couple of plastic bags and grab some clothes out of my suitcase for him.” I raced upstairs to dig up something for Aiden to change into, thankful to have something helpful to do. Dad was nowhere near as tall as Aiden, with a round belly to boot, but Aiden had a belt, so I figured he’d be able to keep the shorts on at least. I scrambled down the stairs and shoved the clothes into Dad’s hands along with the plastic bags he’d asked for. He took them but returned a moment later.

“Do we have any tomato sauce?” he asked.

I dug through the cupboards and piled all the cans I could find into his arms, along with the can opener. I paced back and forth, wishing there were something I could do to help. After what seemed like an eternity, Dad came in, looking haggard, his mouth set in a thin, hard line. He stunk pretty badly himself and I had to force myself to not cover my nose as he sat down on the chair next to the fire.

“Where’s Aiden? Is he okay?” I asked, breathing through my mouth.

“He’ll live.” His tone was curt and I frowned at him, but he wouldn’t look at me.

Aiden finally appeared in the doorway, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable in my dad’s oversized shorts and a polo shirt that was too tight across the shoulders. His ruined clothing was tied up in the plastic bag, dangling from one hand. His pride was obviously damaged, but he stood tall and stuck his chin out, speaking in a calm, clear voice.

“Thank you, Gary, for your help. I’ll be going now.” His eyes met mine for a moment and he sighed, shaking his head in apology.

Dad came into the kitchen, stopping between us. “Come on then, I’ll drive you home,” he practically growled. He was acting like Aiden had purposefully gotten sprayed or something, and it was starting to piss me off.

“Begging your pardon, sir, but if it’s all the same to you, I think it best if I walk home. I could use the fresh air, if you take my meaning.” He managed a weak smile and Dad nodded.

“Oh, I understand more than you think.” Sarcasm dripped from his tongue and I turned, ready to ask him what his freaking problem was when he launched something through the air. Aiden instinctively reached out and caught it in his free hand.

“Don’t forget your toothbrush, son.”

Aiden’s gaze dropped to the white and blue stick in his hand with a look of confusion, but his face fell a moment later as understanding set in. Heat raced up my cheeks and I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could die right then. Dad’s pointed gaze was hot on my face and I opened my eyes to see him staring directly at me.

“I told you I was no fool, young lady.” He turned then to Aiden, who stood in the doorway like a stone statue, his face tinged green. “I’ll see you tomorrow at six a.m. Don’t be late.” With that, he strode back into the living room and settled himself into his favorite chair. He snapped open a newspaper, the conversation over. Aiden met my eyes for a moment, but then he, too, walked away without a word, leaving me all alone in the kitchen.

Chapter 7

The next morning, Aiden arrived on time as instructed. My dad received him stiffly at the door while I looked on from the kitchen. Aiden was dressed in the full Scottish regalia that he’d come forward with: kilt, sporran, dirk, stockings,
sgian dubh
, black shoes, and the beige linen shirt he called a sark. His tartan plaid was slung over his shoulder and pinned with a gold brooch. He bowed to my dad in greeting, then straightened up, looking every inch the wild Scotsman.

“This is the Highland dress of my people. I’d like for ye to see my true self.”

Dad’s gaze swept over him from his boots to his bright blue eyes. “All right, then. Fair enough.” He thrust a cooler into Aiden’s arms and I winced, afraid that Dad’s discovery from last night had caused an irreparable rift in their fledgling relationship. Grabbing the fishing poles and his tackle box, he turned to Aiden with a twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth. “Well, if you’re a true Scotsman, the seat of the boat’s going to be really cold on your bare ass.” When Aiden grinned, Dad finally cracked a smile and shook his head. “Come along then, son. Let’s go catch some fish.”

Even though it was early in the morning, I was far too worked up to go back to sleep. I made myself breakfast and immediately felt like throwing it up. How on earth was I going to get through the day? Aiden had said everything would be fine, but anxiety twisted my insides into knots.

I turned on some loud music to distract myself and proceeded to clean the bathroom from top to bottom, ridding it of the stench of the previous night’s debacle. The smell clung to the shower tiles and as I scrubbed them, I thought back to the horrible taste of the skunk’s spray in my mouth. I knew I’d tasted it, even though I was nowhere close to the skunk, just like I’d felt the effects of the whisky even though I hadn’t been the one drinking. Aiden and I hadn’t had this kind of connection before and he didn’t seem to be aware of it, so I wondered if it was just me.

I thought at first that our connection allowed me to feel his pain since I’d felt the pinprick when he’d poked his finger on the rose bush. But when he did it the second time, I didn’t feel it at all. And I had no explanation for the rush of excitement that had coursed through me when he’d been drinking the night before.

I blew a stray curl off my forehead and turned my attention to the shower curtain, spraying it down with bleach. It wasn’t that I could read his mind, since there had been a number of times I’d wondered what he was thinking. No, it was like I could feel what he was feeling, but only sometimes, and I didn’t understand why or how. Frustrated, I threw the scrub brush in the bucket and turned on the shower to rinse the suds down the drain.

What are they talking about?
I desperately wanted to know what was happening out on the lake, to get some reassurance that everything was going well, but I didn’t dare call to Aiden in my mind. I felt that to do so would be an intrusion, so I kept my thoughts to myself.