#OH GEE I WISH I WAS TAUGHT THIS STUFF BEFORE YOU THREW ME INTO THE PIRANHA TANK

[teepussilakana]

99 per cent of my job is fine but that one percent is a bitch right now

[silavut-the-wizard]

Silavut the Wizard, Chapter 23

They deal with a very sticky situation.

The Dragon

The dragon descended with a great gust of wind and thundering landing. The villagers scattered back to their homes, screaming.

Silavut looked up at the dragon with indifference, seemingly not caring what happened next.

Sehlan looked at the dragon with dread on her face. “Silavut! What the hell was that?” she asked furiously. “Did you purposely lure the dragon here?”

He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the dragon.

“Hello, little morsels. I see the villagers have prepared yet another scrumptious sacrifice.” Its voice was in their heads.

“We’re—ugh—not—ergh—your—gah—snack!” Sehlan grunted, still trying to find a way to free them. “Silavut, help me! What are you doing?” She looked back to see him just sitting there, staring at the dragon.

“It seems your friend has given up trying to escape.” It produced a deep, rumbling laugh. “All the easier for me to devour.”

Sehlan let out a frustrated grunt. “I wish I had a blade so I could cut these damn things! Then use it to kill you!” she said, turning her attention towards the dragon.

“Me? Why kill me? I’m not your enemy. I’m just like any other living thing. I need to eat to survive, and this village has provided little snacks like you to help with that.”

Besides the village’s yearly sacrifices, she had to admit the dragon did have a point. She had an idea. “Let me ask you something, then. Why do you come to this village? What is it that draws you here?”

The dragon was taken aback. No one had ever asked it anything before. Everyone always screamed and ran away or tried to escape.

What no one knew, however, was that it never actually ate anyone. It would pick them up and carry them off somewhere else and let them go, the villagers being none the wiser as not a single one ever returned; mainly because being sacrificed was a deterrent to return.

The main reason the dragon never actually ate anyone was because dragons never ate humans if they could avoid it for various reasons.

After a moment of thought, it decided to answer. “To seek the one who destroyed another dragon nearly thirty years ago. An evil one with power even dragons dare not meddle with. It was in this village that happened, and when the weave of balance started coming undone. It has frayed and the world became fractured. The only way to restore them is by destroying this wicked being.”

Sehlan gasped. So it knows! “We, too, have been seeking this evil one. She is an insane sorceress who became immortal and has been wreaking havoc ever since she fully came into her powers. We know not where she dwells. We have been travelling long and have been through several ordeals, this one certainly not being the least. We wish to destroy her as well. We may well be able to help each other.” She stopped to let this sink in with the dragon.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth? You could be lying to get out of being eaten. Many have tried such tactics before and failed. I should just devour you right now.” It opened its jaws and they could see the massive, sharp teeth built to puncture just about anything, and its long, slimy tongue ready to slurp them down.

“No! Wait!”

It stopped, pulled back and closed its mouth, and waited, one large eye turned towards them, watching closely.

“I’m not lying.” Sehlan tried to think how it could know they were telling the truth. Then she remembered something she heard as a child. “I know dragons have a way to tell if someone is true or false. I also know the risks involved. You can do it to me. If I am lying, then you can eat us, right here and now.”

Silavut continued to stare blankly.

After several moments of contemplation, the dragon agreed. It performed its test on Sehlan and found her to be truthful. She nearly collapsed from the mental strain and was breathing hard with the exertion.

“You see,” she said between breaths, “it’s true.”

“Yes. I do see.” The dragon slowly circled them a few times, still contemplating devouring them. “Though you do still look tasty.”

Silavut suddenly jumped up, fire in his eyes. “You will not have us, dragon!”

“Silavut!” Sehlan nearly screamed in both elation and frustration. “What…the…hell??”

“Sorry,” he said with a crooked smirk and half-hearted shrug. “Couldn’t ruin my plan.”

“Your plan? To do what exactly?”

“Well, free us, of course.”

“OK, so you’re free, but what about me?”

“Let me deal with this conniving beast here.”

“Wait! It’s not what you think.”

The dragon watched, amused, as the two went at it.

“Then tell me, what is it?”

“It can help us. Did you not hear it?”

“I heard nothing but lies. Dragons cannot be trusted. Don’t you know that?”

Sehlan sighed. “Yes, I know. Normally I would agree with you, but not now. Would you please get me loose, and then tell me how the hell you got loose?”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He went over and cut her bonds, still wary of the dragon.

Sehlan stood and rubbed her wrists where they were bound. “Now, tell me your plan and how you got loose.”

He hesitated, looking between her and the dragon, then explained. “Ever since I left Vorin’s, I’ve always had a hidden dagger. It was one thing he taught me, to always be prepared and how to keep it hidden, even with thorough searches. I didn’t want anyone to see me pull it out, so I yelled, assuming the dragon would show, which it did.” He nodded at the dragon. “Once the villagers were gone, I manoeuvred enough to slide out the dagger and cut the bonds. After getting free, I thought we might be able to distract the dragon long enough to escape, find our packs, and get the hell out of here.”

“OK, but distract it how?” Sehlan shrugged at the dragon, bemused.

“I hadn’t figured that part out yet. I figured we’d come up with something at the time.”

“Great. Just great.” Sehlan threw her arms up and let them drop as she rolled her eyes. “So we were just going to randomly distract it with nothing. Nice.”

Silavut became sheepish. “I didn’t know what else to do! I’m sorry.”

The dragon then let out a roaring laugh. “You little ones amuse me. I may not eat you after all.”

“Gee, thanks,” Sehlan said.

Silavut sighed and sat back down. “So, now what do we do? We need to find our packs and get out of here.”

“Let’s go see our oh-so-generous host and see what they know.”

They made their way to the home of the one who drugged them. Upon their barging in, the owner, who was making a meal, yelped and tried running out the back. Sehlan was too quick, though, and caught them before they could get out the door.

“Where is our stuff? What did you do with our packs?”

Stammering, they answered, “H–ho–w–d–d–di–d–y–yo–you?” She shook them. “Th–th–they–o–over–p–p–pl–please–l–l–let–m–me–g–g–g–go—”

“Where?” she asked with more force, shaking them harder.

They yelped and cowered in her grip. Finding their voice, they said in one long string, “Over-there-in-the-storage-room-please-let-me-go!” They pointed towards the room.

“I should leave you to the dragon!” Sehlan dumped them on the floor and went over to the storage room. “You sure they’re in here?” she asked with danger in her voice.

“Y–yes! I–I–I’m sure!”

“They better be. Silavut, watch them.”

“My pleasure.” Silavut stood over them with the blade ready in case they tried anything.

Sehlan opened the door, and sure enough there were their packs, still intact thankfully. “They’re here. Good.” She dragged them out, the sword scraping the floor, leaving a gouge. Looking down at their abductor, she said, “If I ever hear of any more sacrifices, I will personally come back and hunt you down. Do you understand?”

Silently, they nodded vigorously.

“Good.”

Silavut smiled down at them and waved. “Bye-bye now.”

He helped gather the packs and they met the dragon back in the village square to plan their next move.

[softspideys]

Through the Years (Tom Holland x reader)

summary: you and tom recall the highs and lows of your relationship, all while having your first dance at your wedding

warnings: none

words: 3.1k

pairings: tom holland x reader

a/n: I MAY HAVE GONE SLIGHTLY OVERBOARD WITH THIS OOPS. anyway this was requested by @propsandpines, who asked for a story based off the song “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran so if there is anyone to blame for how fluffy this is.....it is her. I’ve never written anything about Tom before so hopefully I got his personality somewhat right? idk anyway I hope you like it:) 

I found a love for me

Darling just dive right in

And follow my lead

“If everyone could turn their attention to the dance floor, where the bride and groom will now have their first dance as a married couple,” the DJ announced.

“That’s us,” Tom said with a grin, holding out his hand. “You ready?”

You’d spent the entire day practically delirious with happiness, but seeing everyone’s eyes on you still made you a little nervous. “Uh . . .”

“Darling,” Tom laughed. “C’mon, it’s just us.” You allowed him to take your hand and lead you out onto the dance floor.

The soft, slow notes of your favorite song began to play, and you put your arms around Tom and started to dance, practicing the steps you’d been taught at that silly dance class the two of you had been going to all month. The class was really more for you than him, but he insisted on accompanying you anyway.

“Can you believe we’re married?” you asked for what seemed like the billionth time that day. And for the billionth and one time, Tom shook his head, smiling.

“No. Still feels like we just met yesterday.”

---------

'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love

Tom had recently taken up going grocery shopping in the middle of the night. He found it was just easier when the place was empty and the only cashiers were either middle-aged people who didn’t know him or college-aged students who were so tired they wouldn’t recognize him anyway.

He was used to being one of the only people in his favorite 24-hour store, so it was quite a surprise when he turned the corner into the frozen food aisle and saw you standing there. You had your chin balanced on your fist, studying something inside the display case like it was a painting at a museum.

Tom’s first thought was well, this is new. His second thought was that you were possibly one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. Maybe the prettiest girl.

You didn’t notice as he slowly approached. He didn’t want to be creepy, so he pretended he needed something in the case next to you. He just really wanted to know what you were staring at so intently.

It turned out to be ice cream. He fought back a grin as he said casually, “Having a tough time deciding?”

You blinked at him, like you’d just noticed he was standing there, but then you smiled. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Well, maybe I can help. You know, like be the tiebreaker. If you want,” he added hastily, because you didn’t appear to have recognized him, so what if you thought he was just some weird dude grocery shopping at midnight (which he technically was)?

But thankfully, you laughed. “Okay. I’m deciding between Chunky Monkey and Half-Baked.”

“Oh, man,” Tom said. “How is that even a question? You gotta go with Half-Baked!”

“You think? I get it every time, so I was wondering if I should switch things up.”

“No, absolutely not,” Tom said, shaking his head. “If it’s good, why change it?”

You laughed again and threw your hands up in defeat. “Okay, you’re right. Half-Baked it is.” You reached into the case and pulled out a carton. “Thanks for helping me . . .”

“Tom,” he said quickly. “My name’s Tom.”

“Y/N,” you said, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too. Have a good night.” Tom turned to walk away, but stopped himself. You’re insane, dude, he thought to himself, but really, was that even new information?

Before he could stop himself, he turned around and said, “Hey.” You looked up at him, and he continued, “This might be kinda weird, but do you think I could have your number? And maybe, like, call you?”

You stared at him, and just as Tom was getting ready to file the restraining order himself, you smiled. “Sure. I’d like that.”

He resisted the urge to do a victory dance as you exchanged numbers. “Cool,” he said, nodding. “Very cool. I’ll, uh, call you sometime. Sometime soon.”

“Great,” you said, smiling again. “I’m looking forward to it.” Tom waved to you and turned to walk away again. He couldn’t believe that he’d gotten through that entire interaction without you knowing who he was (not that that was a bad thing). However, as soon as he had that thought, you called out, “See you later, Spider-Man.”

Tom spun around and gaped at you. You were grinning slyly, and he couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. Yeah, you were definitely a keeper.

---------

I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know

She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home

“Happy birthday, love,” Tom said quietly into the phone.

“Aw, thanks,” you answered sleepily.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait a second, did I wake you up? Shit, what time is it? I keep forgetting about the time difference. I’m sorry.”

You laughed, and Tom’s heart ached. He’d been away promoting Spider-Man for about two weeks now, and the distance was killing him. He missed waking up to you in the morning and kissing you good-night. You’d been dating for about six months now, and it felt like he was constantly on Cloud 9.

It was almost like a dream, being with you. Things were just so good. You were funny and sweet and beautiful and you loved spending time with his family just as much as you liked hanging out with him. You made him feel normal, like he was just Tom.

“S’okay. You can say you were the first person to wish me a happy birthday.” He could tell you were smiling.

“I hate this,” Tom said with a sigh, rubbing a hand down his face. “I hate missing your birthday.”

“Thomas,” you said, and he could practically see you rolling your eyes. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but . . . it’s just not fair.”

“You’ll be at my next one,” you said simply. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll have plenty more birthdays for you to attend.”

Occasionally you did stuff like that, dropped hints about him staying in your life for a while, and Tom would be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart skip every time.

“I just miss you,” he said softly.

“I know. I miss you too. But you get to be Spider-Man and travel around the world and promote your movie to millions of adoring fans, and that’s amazing. Look on the bright side, okay? You’ll be home in a week.”

“You’re right,” Tom said, shaking his head. “How are you always right?”

“Because I’m awesome,” you said, like it was obvious.

Harrison appeared suddenly. “Dude, you ready? They need you out there.”

Tom sighed. “I gotta go. I’m sorry.”

“No worries. Go be Spider-Man. Tell Harrison I said hi.”

“I will. Happy birthday again. I’ll see you soon.”

“Tom?” you said before he could hang up.

“Yeah?”

You hesitated. “I’m really proud of you.”

Tom felt a lump settle in his throat. It never failed to amaze him how supportive you were of him, how much you believed in him and pushed him to be his best. He could only hope that one day, he’d be able to make it up to you. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Happy birthday, my love.”

---------

We are still kids, but we're so in love

Fighting against all odds

I know we'll be alright this time

“You knew what you were getting into!” Tom said heatedly. “You knew that this wasn’t going to be easy!”

“How could I have prepared myself for this?” you shouted back. “I’m just a regular person.”

“Oh, and I’m not?”

“You know what I mean! This is your job, this has been your job for years! I’m - I just - it’s too much for me!” You did your best to hold back the tears that were threatening to pour from your eyes, but you weren’t succeeding so far. You stared at Tom’s angry face and wondered how things had gotten so messed up.

It was coming up on your one-year anniversary. Tom had surprised you with flowers and a romantic, home-cooked dinner. The night was going perfectly until he had to keep excusing himself to answer phone call after phone call from his agent, from studio executives, from God-knows-what. Frustrated, you asked if he could just put down the phone for one second. And things blew up from there.

“Well gee, Y/N, I’m so sorry this hasn’t been easy for you. Would you like me to just quit all of this? Would that make you happy?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!”

“I don’t understand what you want me to do,” Tom snapped. “This is my job. Sometimes it gets in the way of things.”

“Sometimes?” you said incredulously. “Try all the time! You missed my birthday and I didn’t complain. You had to leave on Valentine’s Day and I didn’t say a word. And now this! Well, I’ve had enough, okay?”

You both fell silent at your words and, more importantly, what they implied. You bit your lip but didn’t take it back. It was something you yelled off the top of your head, something you knew would hurt him, but maybe it was the right thing to do.

“You’ve had enough,” Tom repeated, his voice going oddly calm. “What does that mean?”

“I - I don’t know,” you said softly, tears flowing freely down your face now. “Maybe we just need to take a break for a while. Have some time apart and figure things out.”

Tom stared at you for a long time, his face blank. “All right,” he said finally. “If that’s what you want.”

You certainly weren’t expecting that reaction. You thought he would argue against it, beg you to stay, fight for your relationship. Maybe he actually agreed. Maybe a break was the best thing for you. But your heart said otherwise; it was practically in pieces.

It was getting late, so the two of you wordlessly cleaned up your disastrous dinner and got ready for bed. There was nothing else to do anyway. You felt foolish wearing the cute lingerie you’d picked up specially for tonight. It all seemed stupid now.

You were at Tom’s house, so it didn’t feel right to make him sleep on the couch. But climbing into bed didn’t feel good, either. You kept a careful distance from him, saying nothing more than a stiff “Good night,” before trying to fall asleep.

After waking in the middle of the night from a fitful sleep, you stared at Tom’s back for a few minutes before you whispered, “Tom?”

You were afraid he’d be asleep, but he rolled over immediately. As soon as you were facing each other, you both said at the same time, “I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t want to break up,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I don’t either,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry everything is hard. It’s hard for me too. But you make it better.” You nodded, and he added, “I’m sorry I ruined our anniversary.”

“You didn’t,” you said immediately. “And we’ll have plenty more to celebrate anyway. It’s okay.” Tom cracked a tiny smile and you kissed him softly. “I love you so much. Go to sleep, okay?”

“I love you too,” he mumbled, already drifting off. You listened to the sound of his steady breathing for a long time. You knew it was going to be hard to get through all of this. But you did love Tom, more than anything in the world. If anyone was worth it, it was him.

---------

Be my girl, I'll be your man

I see my future in your eyes

“God, it’s so nice out,” you said, tilting your head back to feel the sun on your face. It was the first warm day of spring, and you and Tom were taking advantage of it by going for a walk in the park.

“Yeah,” he agreed. He’d been acting strange all morning, as if he was nervous about something. He was the one to suggest the walk, claiming he wanted some fresh air.

You swung your joined hands together as you strolled along. All around you, flowers were blooming brightly and tree branches were rustling in the breeze. The sun was warm, but the air was cool enough to need a light jacket. It truly felt like a perfect day.

Tom kept fidgeting next to you, and you glanced at him. He was staring straight ahead, looking almost ill. “Are you okay?” you asked finally.

His eyes snapped over to you. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” he said, a little too quickly.

You snorted. “I don’t know, you tell me. You’re being weird.”

“I’m not weird. You’re weird.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, whatever. Where are we going, anyway?”

“You’ll see.”

He led you over to a bench that was overlooking a small duck pond. You smiled at the baby ducks bumbling around in the water. “Do you know where we are?” Tom asked.

You dropped his hand to walk around, looking at the big tree next to the bench before you lit up in recognition. “Yeah! This is where we had that picnic a few years ago.”

“Uh-huh,” Tom said as you peered down at the water, absently wondering how cold it was. “This is where we had our first date. I made you laugh so hard soda came out of your nose.”

“God, don’t remind me,” you groaned. “That was so embarrassing.”

He chuckled. “It was cute. You were so cute. You still are.” He paused. “This spot is where I fell in love with you. It was only our first date, but I think I knew, even then . . .”

As you listened to him, your heart started to beat faster, but you had no idea why. What was going on? What was he getting at? “Y/N?” Tom asked.

Slowly, you turned around. Tom was on one knee a few feet away, smiling at you with an open ring box in his hand. You felt your legs turn to jelly. “What are you doing?” you whispered.

“You make me so, so happy. Happier than I ever thought a person could be. And we’ve been through everything together and we’re still here. There is no one else in the world I want to be with. I love you so, so much. I want to build a future with you. Will you marry me?”

“Oh my God,” was all you could say. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You could feel a mixture of emotions bubbling inside of you: shock, confusion, excitement - but most of all, happiness.

Tom was still looking at you, a little nervously. You realized you hadn’t said anything, so you nodded vigorously, tears already filling your eyes. “Yes, yes, yeah, yes.”

His entire body sagged in relief as a smile broke out onto his face. You held your hand out as he slid the ring onto your finger before you practically yanked him to his feet to kiss him. It was an awkward kiss, since you were both smiling and crying and laughing, but you’d never felt so happy in your entire life.

---------

When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful

I don't deserve this, darling, you look perfect tonight

As you and Tom swayed back and forth, you looked over his shoulder at all of your guests. At one table you saw your parents, smiling through their tears. Next to them you saw Tom’s parents, who were practically glowing as they watched you dance with their son. All of your friends and family were at the surrounding tables. Everyone had their eyes on you and everyone looked happy.

“Did I mention how beautiful you look tonight?” Tom murmured, making you blush. You couldn’t believe he still had the ability to make you feel like you were a high schooler with a crush, even after all this time.

“Several times, yes,” you teased.

“Well, here’s one more: you look absolutely beautiful.” He paused, his eyes flicking up and down your face. “God, I can’t believe this. I can’t believe . . . you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, stop.”

“No really!” he insisted. “If you could see what I see, you’d understand. I’m so lucky to have you.”

You leaned forward and kissed his shoulder. “I’d say I’m pretty lucky too.”

The two of you danced in silence for a little bit. You couldn’t believe that you were here, dancing with the love of your life at your wedding. If someone had told you all those years ago that going to the grocery store at midnight to get some ice cream would be the best decision you’d ever make, you’d probably have laughed in their face. Now, all you could do was smile up at your husband and remember how awkward and sweet he was as he told you to go for Half-Baked.

Tom looked down at you, at your bright eyes and your beautiful white dress, practically radiating love and happiness, and congratulated himself for being a weirdo that one night in the store, because it landed him his wife. He couldn’t believe that after everything, you were still here, but he was glad you were.

“Forgive me for repeating myself for the millionth time, but . . . you look perfect, darling.” He pecked your lips. “Or should I say Mrs. Holland?”

You felt a shiver run down your spine at those words. “Mrs. Holland,” you repeated. “I like the sound of that.”

Tom smiled as the song ended and your guests began to join you on the dance floor. “That’s good,” he said. “Because you’ll be hearing it for the rest of your life.”

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

Getting Hot with the Scot by Melonie Johnson

Sometimes in Love #1

Cassie Crow and her friends have been planning their trip to Europe for years and finally, about five years after they graduate from college, they have gone on their dream trip together.

This book begins in Scotland and is the first in a series of books that will no doubt showcase each of Cassie’s friends and how they find the person who will become t heir partner in life. But, this is Cassie and Logan’s story.

Cassie is in a Castle and happens upon a hunky kilted Scot inside a library wall. Is he a time traveler or??? Well...when Cassie realizes that the tall gorgeous redhead with the brogue is Logan Reid, prankster extraordinaire, she put the kibosh on his hopes of putting the impromptu kiss they shared onto his website. Not wanting to give up on getting her to sign the release form he puts the moves on to see if he can change her mind. Little does he know that HER goal is to have a torrid European fling while on her dream vacation. And thus begins their journey toward a HES...maybe. Beginning in Scotland they move on to England, seems to end, picks up again in Chicago and continues on from there. How they manage to find their HEA involves some maneuvering, includes Cassie’s friends and sets the reader up for book two that will be the story of one of Logan’s friends getting together with one of Cassie’s friends ��� these two meet on the European vacation, too.

This book had a New Adult feel to it so my guess is it will be a favorite with those who read this genre.

Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Press for the ARC – This is my honest review.

3-4 Stars  

ABOUT THE BOOK:

The first in a new series, a journalist focused on her career and a sexy Scottish comedian turn a one night stand into forever.

Cassie Crow leaves for vacation with two goals: fill up her empty charm bracelet and have a one night stand. For once, she wants to have fun instead of obsessively checking her work email. And kissing a man in a castle who’s dressed as a Scottish Highlander is the perfect solution.

Except when that man turns out to be Logan Reid, the host of a popular sketch show—and Cassie has just been roped into his latest prank. She wants nothing to do with his antics, but that was a really great kiss, and one night together couldn’t hurt.

It’s clear that one night isn’t enough and when Logan’s show brings him closer to Cassie, they decide to give dating a try. Can the woman who’s focused solely on her career and the man who refuses to take life seriously make it work?

EXCERPT

Would you look at that? The man is wearing a kilt.

Note to self: Cassie Crow—be careful what you wish for.

The man groaned again and raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight now cutting across the hidden al- cove.

“Are you all right?”

“I will be fine once ye douse that blasted light.” He squinted up at her. “Be ye a new chambermaid?”

Chambermaid? She eyed the wide sleeves and open neck of the old-fashioned piratey shirt he wore. “Not sure what kind of weird-ass stuff you’re into buddy, but I don’t do RPG.”

“Weird . . . ass?” His dark red brows drew together as he shaped his mouth around the letters. “Are pee gee?”

“Role playing games. You know, like cosplay or what- ever.” She pointed at him. “Look, you’re the one wearing that get-up and talking like a reject from Macbeth.”

He narrowed his eyes at her finger. “Be ye a witch?” “What did you call me?”

With another groan, he lurched forward. Oh God, what if he was hurt? For all she knew he was a member of some

historic castle tour who got lost in a back passageway and hit his head. She leaned down to inspect him for bruises.

He threw a hand out, palm up, warding her off. “Back away, sorceress,” he hissed.

“Seriously?” She slapped his hand out of the way. “Here, let me help you out of there.” Cassie tugged gently on his shoulder. The voluminous shirt was loose, but she could feel—and appreciate—the thick spread of muscle beneath the soft fabric.

Just my luck, I finally run into a hot Highlander, and he’s delusional.

The man waved off her assistance and struggled to his feet, shaking a wild tousle of thick, red hair out of his eyes. Cassie never fancied herself to be a ginger girl, but it worked on him . . . or maybe that was the kilt talking. She eyed the swath of plaid fabric wrapped around his hips and wondered, like any female in her position would, what might or might not be under there. Reluctantly, she raised her gaze and caught him scrutinizing her in return.

“What be these strange breeks ye wear?” he asked, moving in a circle around her.

Cassie swore she could feel the weight of each of his eyeballs resting on her denim-clad backside. Fair enough. After a prolonged moment, she glanced over her shoulder. “Get a good look?”

“Aye.” He swallowed. “’Tis most unseemly, lass.” He shook his head, gaze still glued to her ass.

“They’re called jeans.” She pivoted to face him. “Are you for real?”

He met her gaze, his answer falling from his lips in a deep, rich brogue with trilling r’s that curled her toes, “Aye, lass, I’m real.”

Cassie’s heart hiccupped. Of course he’s real. Unless

those shots were stronger than I thought. “Were you at the whisky tasting?”

“Whisky?” His green-gold eyes lit with interest. “Do ye have whisky for me, then? I could use a wee dram. Be a good lass and fetch it for me.”

“Ha! I think you’ve had enough, mister. Is that how you ended up stuck in there?” Even as she said this, Cassie doubted it. She didn’t smell a hint of alcohol on him, though she did pick up other pleasant smells. Mint and clove and man and . . . Stop being ridiculous.

His broad shoulders lifted and dropped. “I dinna ken.” “How long were you in there?”

Another shrug.

Cassie dragged her attention away from the wide curve of his shoulders and leaned past him, inspecting the dark, narrow space behind the bookshelf.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back, panic edg- ing his voice. “Nay, lass. Doona be going in there.”

“Why not?” She inched forward and tried to get a bet- ter look.

“It canna be safe.” He tugged on her wrist again, his fingers warm and firm.

Tiny butterflies danced along the path where his skin touched hers. She brushed away the tingling sensation and slipped out of his grip, careful not to snag her bracelet. “Well, you were in there, and you appear to have man- aged.”

“Are ye daft, wench? I was trapped!”

She sniffed, not sure she liked being referred to as a wench, and frowned up at him. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

He closed his eyes and slumped against the shelf. “I canna recall anything afore the moment I woke to find my-

self crammed within yonder wall.” He blinked and fo- cused intently on her. “The moment I found you, lass.”

Cassie decided she liked being called lass much better than wench, especially when he was looking at her like that. Gazes locked, her other senses sharpened, heighten- ing her awareness of his body and its proximity to hers. She cleared her throat. “Hm. I think it’d be more accurate to say I’m the one who found you.” Telling herself she was only searching for injuries, she reached up and tentatively skimmed her palms along his temples, her fingers trailing his scalp.

“Looking for devil’s horns?” The man cocked one wicked brow at her as he raised his arms to mirror her movements, running his hands over her head and shoul- ders before brushing his palms down her back. “Ye’ve naught got any fairy wings, so I’d say we’re even. In fact,” he whispered against her hair, standing so close the low burr of his voice became a purr in her own chest, “ye feel perfect to me.”

Like the migrating monarchs her dad studied, the but- terflies made a return trip, enveloping her in a fluttery haze. She shivered. Whether it was the Scot or the scotch or both, Cassie didn’t care. He was here and she was here, and damn it all, it was about time she skipped to the good stuff. With a forceful mental click, Cassie turned off her brain, tilted her chin up, and caught his mouth with hers.

He made a low sound in the back of his throat, of pro- test or surprise, she wasn’t sure. But then his hands settled at her waist, and he returned the kiss. His mouth was somehow soft and hard at the same time, and when he slipped his tongue between her lips, she felt more light- headed than if she’d downed every shot of whisky that had been on that tasting list.

Cassie rolled her tongue against his, savoring the deli- cious contact. He met her thrust for thrust, deepening the kiss until she was swept away on a tidal wave of desire. This. This is what I’ve been waiting for. She clung to him, hands gripping his shoulders, swimming in sensa- tion, drowning in it.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

A Star Wars junkie and Shakespeare groupie who quotes both Yoda and the Bard with equal aplomb, award-winning author Melonie Johnson—aka #thewritinglush—is a two-time RWA Golden Heart® finalist who loves dark coffee, cheap wine, and expensive beer. And margaritas. And mimosas. And mules. Basically any cocktail that starts with the letter m. She met her future husband in that most romantic of places—the mall—when they were teenagers working in stores across the hall from each other. They went on to live happily ever after in the suburbs of Chicago with two redhead daughters, a dog that’s more like a small horse, and a trio of hermit crabs. After earning her Bachelor of Arts magna cum laude from Loyola University Chicago, Melonie taught high school English and Theatre in the northern Chicago suburbs for several years. Now she writes smart and funny contemporary romance and moonlights as an audiobook narrator under the pseudonym, Evelyn Eibhlin.

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