Read A Kilted Christmas Wish for Free Online

plummet. “Don’t say anymore.” Darla scooted closer to him, so that their faces were only a few inches apart. “Sounds like you’ve been hurt before, and so have I. I’ll admit I was upset I didn’t hear from you, but then, I started to think maybe it was all in my head. When you showed up—”
    Now it was his turn to stop her. “Shh…”
    She smiled up at him and took a sip of her wine. “Right. First things first.”
    “Check!” he said, lifting his hand into the air.
    After Aaron paid the bill, he hailed a cab, and five minutes later they pulled up in front of St. Andrew’s. The pub was hopping already, but as soon as Aaron came in, the bartenders—all clad in kilts and Santa hats—sent up a shout and a table was cleared for them.
    “Don’t say anything,” Aaron said when he saw Darla’s raised brows. “Of course I made friends, it’s the best Scots bar in town.”
    Her laugh was mesmerizing. They slid into the rounded booth, sitting beside each other, dressed way too formally, but neither of them caring.
    “Where’s your kilt?” the bartender yelled.
    “I don’t bring it out on the third date,” Aaron called back, winking at Darla.
    Her lip curled. “What date does it come out?”
    He leaned close, elbows pressed to the table. “Truth is, I haven’t brought it out for any woman.”
    “No?” she asked.
    “You’d be the first.” And she would be. Damn, he shocked himself. He’d worn it on formal occasions and celebrations in Scotland, but he’d never brought it out to impress a woman, not even for Megan. He’d never felt the urge to do it, but now that Darla was intrigued by it… he was suddenly interested.
    The waitress came to the table, and they placed their orders—two fish sandwiches with fries with two thick pints of Scottish ale.
    “Have you ever tried Scots whisky?”
    “Other than viewing the hot Lawson’s commercials, no.” She giggled.
    Aaron winged a brow. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen those.”
    “Not sure you’d want to,” she teased.
    “Then you’ve got to try some. Can’t come to St. Andrews without trying a wee dram.” He held his hand up catching sight of the bartender. “Two Glenallachies.”
    “Have I told you how much I adore the way you talk?”
    “Maybe.” He leaned closer to her, taking in the scent of her hair and coming within half an inch of her. Going deeper into his brogue, he said, “Have I told ye, lassie, how verra much I like ye?”
    Darla shivered, and he watched her bite her lip. A lip he’d wanted to taste since the moment he met her. A lip, he shouldn’t want. A woman he shouldn’t be out with. Why couldn’t he have met her a year from now? No t a mere few months after losing Megan.
    Breaking the moment, t he waitress set two shot glasses filled to the brim with whisky and two pints of ale. He didn’t know whether to be irritated at losing the chance to steal a kiss or grateful for not losing himself in a desire he shouldn’t be having.
    “Cheers, lass,” he said, winking again when she blushed. He pushed her Glenallachie toward her, and she picked it up tentatively.
    “I’ve never been a big shot taker,” she said.
    “Chase it with the ale.”
    She rolled her eyes. “And then you’ll be carrying me home.”
    “Would that be so bad?” Lord, why was he teasing her? Leading them both on?
    Instead of replying, she picked up the shot and touched it to her lips, then held it away. “Smells strong.”
    Aaron chuckled. “Down the hatch.” He tipped his back, feeling the familiar burn as the whisky made its way down his throat.
    “You make it look easy.” She closed her eyes and drained the glass, shivering as she went.
    Her pink tongue dashed out, licking her lip as she hissed a breath, and Aaron couldn’t control his urge to kiss her any longer. This kiss had been in the making since the moment he walked into her café and saw her leaning over the counter. Touching a finger to her chin, he turned her to face him.