Kilty Pleasures

  A Kilted Hearts Novelette

  Kait Nolan

  Take The Leap Publishing

  Copyright © 2023 by Kait Nolan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Introduction

  Kilty Pleasures

  Other Books By Kait Nolan

  About Kait

  Introduction

  Dear Reader,

  If you’re familiar with my work, then you’ll know I’m known for my small town SOUTHERN romance. Nobody was expecting me to branch out into Scotland, and not everyone came along for the ride. But Scotland is a country I know and love, and I couldn’t resist creating another of the small towns y’all love nestled in the Scottish Highlands. Neither could I resist the urge to take one of the secondary characters from my Wishful Romance series over for a visit.

  Astute readers will recognize Skye Stuart as Myles’ baby sister from Just For This Moment. I gave her a Scottish penpal and a sneaky streak to finally give herself a chance to find out if this attraction she’s been nursing for Jason is real. I hope you enjoy this destination wedding, friends to lovers tale and that you’ll join me for the rest of my foray across the pond with the full Kilted Hearts series.

  With love,

  Kait

  Kilty Pleasures

  Live Music: The Kilt Lifters 8 PM

  The moment Skye Stewart spotted the chalkboard sign, she laughed. She’d known that was the name of Jason’s band and had always found it hilarious, but seeing a big sign for The Kilt Lifters on a public street was something else entirely. Strains of bagpipes and the thump of drums spilled out into the crisp fall night from inside The Stag’s Head pub. Was that… The Backstreet Boys? Hell, yeah, it was. A bagpipe cover of “I Want It That Way.”

  It seemed like she hadn’t missed the whole performance, despite the massive delay of her flights. That was something. She’d rushed straight here, rather than stopping to check in at the B and B, so she dragged her rolling suitcase behind her into the pub.

  The place was bigger than it looked, stretching well back from the street, with another sort of dog-leg offshoot behind whatever business was next door. It was all creamy walls and dark wood beams. A long stretch of bar in gleaming wood ran along one wall. A tall, muscular man with a serious face moved steadily behind the taps. Ewan McBride, probably. Jason’s boss and the other bartender at the pub. Given Jason was on stage, that made sense.

  There were people everywhere. A lot of women, Skye noted. With a name like The Kilt Lifters, that was probably inevitable. Many showing up hoping they’d find out what Scots really wore under their kilts, no doubt.

  Suitcase in tow, she began weaving her way through the tables in search of the stage. They’d tucked it at the end of the L, well out of sight of the door. The crowd was thicker here, with dozens of people standing along the edges of the room watching the show, so it took her a minute to find a spot where she could see.

  And there he was. Jason McKinnon. Her improbable best friend for the last five years. They’d met in a chat room by complete coincidence years ago and bonded over a mutual obsession with Sour Patch Kids and The Goonies. They’d been tight ever since, despite the fact that they were separated by an ocean. Not a day went by when they didn’t chat or email, and they tried not to go more than a week without a video call. But they’d never had a chance to actually meet in person. Glenlaig, Scotland, was a hell of a long way from her hometown in Mississippi. It had taken three planes and a rented car to get here, and she was closing in on about twenty-two hours of travel time by now. But she was here, and he was right there, rocking out a bagpipe version of N’Sync’s “Bye Bye Bye.”

  She really was going to have to pick a fabulous wedding present for Chelsea and Nick for giving in to her suggestion of Ardinmuir Castle for their destination wedding. It had been the perfect excuse to cash in a bunch of airline miles in the name of finally getting an answer to the two questions she’d had for ages:

  Was this attraction she felt for Jason a real thing?

  And did he feel it too?

  “Get you something?”

  Skye blinked over at the server, a tall, willowy black woman with purple braids whose name tag read Zo. “Oh, I’d love a drink.”

  Zo blinked when she spoke. “You’re a long way from home.”

  Skye laughed. “I am. Just got to town. Can I get a Coke?” If she had anything with alcohol, she’d likely fall asleep on the spot, despite the noise.

  “Sure thing. C’mon. I’ll get you a seat.” Zo turned and tapped a big burly bearded guy on the shoulder. “Make way for the lady, will you, Fergus?”

  Before Skye could protest, Fergus wrapped one meaty hand around his beer and rose from the stool he’d been occupying at the edge of the room. He nodded in what might have been greeting and moved to hold up the wall across the way.

  “Sit,” Zo ordered. “I’ll be right back.”

  Grateful, Skye slid onto the stool, tucking the suitcase at her feet and pivoting to watch whatever was left of the show. They weren’t half bad, though she suspected fewer people were here to listen to their unusual boy band covers than to check out the eye candy. Three twenty-something men in kilts? Yes, please. Calvin Harris had a gleam in his dark eyes behind his drum kit, his bright blond hair standing on end in punk rocker fashion. Oliver Innes was playing his fiddle so hard, sweat gleamed on his medium brown skin and his hips gyrated with the effort, definitely threatening to give the front couple of rows the view they’d come for. But it was Jason who held her attention, his red hair gleaming under the lights, the tattoos that covered his leanly muscled arms seeming to writhe as he fingered each note. She couldn’t help but wonder what other talents those nimble fingers possessed.

  “Here you go. One Coke.”

  Startled, Skye accepted the glass Zo offered. “Thanks.” She emptied half the glass on the first sip, realizing she was absolutely parched.

  “Kitchen’s not too far from closing, but I’m sure we could pull together something if you’re hungry.”

  “Can I think about it for a couple of minutes?”

  “Of course.”

  Zo melted away as the song ended. Skye joined the crowd in their applause. Calvin rose from his position behind the drums and came to stand with Jason and Oliver.

  Jason spoke into the mic, that familiar voice sending goosebumps down Skye’s arms. “Thanks for comin’ out tonight. We’re The Kilt Lifters. Look for us again next month.”

  Then all three of them turned their backs to the audience and flipped up the backs of their kilts. The crowd went wild, hooting and hollering at the quick flash of one dark and two pale muscular asses. Skye almost slid to the floor, she laughed so hard. By the time she’d gotten ahold of herself, the guys had left the stage, flinging themselves into chairs around a table at the front.

  Draining the last of her drink, Skye smoothed her clothes. It occurred to her she might should try to visit the ladies’ room. Had the hours of travel done as much damage as she imagined? But she didn’t know where it was, and there was a surge as people were starting to file out. She didn’t have the energy to fight the current.

  Oh well. Too late now.

  Squaring her shoulders, she grabbed her suitcase again and started working her way toward Jason’s table. Too busy joking around with his friends, he hadn’t seen her yet. She was only a couple feet away when she tripped. Arms flailing, she squeaked as she tried to find her balance. But it was absolutely no use, and she hurtled right toward Jason… who neatly caught her in his arms and settled her across his kilted lap.

  “Well, now, this is a nice end to the…” He trailed off as he got a good look at her face. “Skye?”

  Her lips quirked. “Hi, Jason.”

  “You’re here!” His arms tightened around her as if to confirm that fact.

  “I am.” Her hands were pressed against his chest, and holy hell, those video chats hadn’t done a damned thing to tell her how firm those muscles were underneath the t-shirt.

  “What? Why? How?” His excitement was palpable and banished her lingering nerves.

  “I’m in town for a destination wedding, and I thought it was high time we finally got a chance to meet in person.” She paused and smiled again, suddenly uncertain. “Surprise?”

  “It certainly is.” Without releasing her, he turned to his friends. “Ollie, Cal, this is my friend Skye, from America.”

  “Is it now?” Oliver asked with interest.

  “Oh, we’ve heard a lot about you,” Calvin said.

  “And I you.” She glanced back at Jason. “I trust you only told the good stories.”

  “Cross my heart.” His green eyes seemed to bore into hers, making her heart pound.

  “Um.”

  “Oh, right.” He helped her climb out of his lap to stand. “Where’s your stuff? Where are you staying? Have you eaten?”

  “I think the last food I had was in London.”

  “I’ll get you something. Fish and chips? Something to drink?”

  “Yes, and water.”

  He screwed up his face in disgust. “That’s a bloody shame.”

  “I’ve been traveling for almost a full day. Alcohol will put me to sleep.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll be right back.” He

disappeared, weaving through the crowd toward the kitchen.

  The guys turned their attention to packing up equipment, so Skye took the opportunity to send an email home to her parents and big brother to let them know she’d arrived safely. Even though she was twenty-six, they still worried. Then she scrolled through the rest of the email she’d ignored since she boarded the first plane. Spotting one from the B and B, she opened it and promptly swore.

  “Something wrong?” Jason set a big glass of water and a plate of food on the table in front of her.

  “Apparently, a pipe burst and flooded the room I booked at my B and B. It’s uninhabitable. They said they’d be happy to help find me somewhere else to stay, but this was sent after I got on the plane in Jackson. It’s already so late. I can’t just contact them now.”

  “Well, that’s no problem. You’ll stay with me.”

  Her heart gave an anticipatory thump. “Are you sure?”

  “Why not? It’ll give us an opportunity to hang out, anyway.”

  Skye wondered if it would give them a chance for anything else. “Yeah, that would be great.”

  Jason carried Skye’s suitcase up the stairs to his flat above the newsagent at the far end of the high street, his mind frantically trying to remember what state the place was in before he opened the door. He wasn’t a slob, per se, but he definitely hadn’t been expecting overnight company. Especially overnight company he wouldn’t be distracting with sex. Not that his body was getting the memo.

  From the moment Skye had tumbled into his lap, he’d been mentally reciting the names of all his grandfather’s sheep in an effort to keep himself under control. He’d known she was a bonnie woman. He’d been talking to her weekly by video for years now. But seeing her in two dimensions was nothing like holding her in the flesh, with all those lovely curves in all the right places, and those whiskey-colored eyes he wanted to drown in. It wasn’t doing a damned thing to help calm the crush he’d been nursing for years now.

  Keep it together, lad.

  As soon as the door opened, his sheep-a-doodle, Wilbur, bounded off the sofa with a happy bark. The bark turned to a whine of delight as he caught sight of Skye and attempted to leap directly into her arms.

  “Down! Down you big numpty.”

  “Wilbur! Oh, it’s so nice to meet you in person!” Skye promptly dropped to the ground where Wilbur could kiss her, and the two entered into a mutual love-fest. Lucky bastard.

  Jason took advantage of her distraction to make a quick sweep of the flat, tossing take-away containers and shoving dirty laundry into the hamper. It wasn’t exactly tidy, but at least there wasn’t a box of condoms or something equally embarrassing out in view.

  “Sorry about the mess.”

  “Oh, Jason, I don’t care. I’m just happy to be here.” She straightened. “Don’t we need to take Wilbur for his evening walk?”

  At the sound of one of his favorite words, Wilbur barked again.

  “Quiet, you. Mrs. Abernathy will have my hide if you wake her.” But Jason grabbed the leash and clipped it on, and the three of them trooped back downstairs and out the door.

  He frequently talked to Skye this time of night through voice messages, so it was completely surreal to have her walking beside him along the quiet high street. Now that the pub was closed, no one was out and about, and only a couple of flat windows were lit.

  “I canna believe you’re actually here.”

  Her rich, melted caramel laugh poured out. “Neither can I.”

  “What are the chances of your friend having a wedding here, of all places? That’s wild. Ardinmuir hasnae been doing weddings all that long. Less than a year.”

  “Oh, well, I might have had a little something to do with that. Chelsea and Nick decided they wanted to get married in Scotland, and I remembered you mentioning how they were doing that up at the castle now. I really wanted the chance to see you in person, so I kinda turned her on to it and gave her a nudge. And here we are.”

  “Devious and well done. I’m really grateful for the chance to finally see you in the flesh.” As his brain helpfully stripped her bare, giving him Technicolor images of her creamy skin all spread out for him to taste, he stumbled. “Er…I mean, in real life. It’s weird to think we’ve never done this before.”

  “Right? We know each other so well. It’s strange that it’s the first time we’ve been physically in the same place.”

  And now he knew what she felt like in his arms. Jason wasn’t sure that would do him any favors. He’d adored this woman from afar for years now, truly enjoying her company. And he’d been satisfied with that because what else could they have when an ocean separated them? But now he couldn’t unknow the scent of her lilac shampoo or the way her silky hair had felt brushing against his cheek. She was even more gorgeous in person, with that laugh and that sweet Southern drawl that had captivated him.

  You are so fucked, mate.

  As Wilbur found an acceptable spot and set about doing his business, Jason turned to Skye. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

  She tucked a lock of her dark brown hair behind one ear. “Well, I’m really glad to hear you say that, because I’m hoping you’ll help me out with one more thing.”

  “Anything.”

  Her smile was a little nervous around the edges. “Be my plus one for this wedding?”

  As a date? As a friend, so you’re no’ sitting alone? He supposed it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to say no either way. “When is it?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon and into the evening. I don’t know if that fits with your work schedule, and I completely understand if not. I know it’s last minute.”

  “It happens I’m off work tomorrow.”

  “Great!”

  Jason did the responsible dog owner routine, bagging up Wilbur’s business and disposing of it in a rubbish bin on the corner before they returned to the apartment. Free of the leash, his dog leapt back onto his spot on the sofa—the concave spot that was molded to Jason’s own arse. And Jason realized the problem.

  There was only the one bed.

  He couldn’t put Skye on that broken-down sofa. It might be perfect for gaming, but not for sleeping. He dreaded the thought of what it was going to do to his back, but that was what painkillers were for, aye?

  Grabbing her suitcase, he carried it back to the bedroom. “You can have the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

  “I can’t take your bed.”

  “Sure you can. You’re the guest.” Jason tried to remember if he’d ever had an overnight guest who hadn’t been a lover. He didn’t think so. Anybody who came to town usually rented a room or stayed with someone in the family.

  “I’m not going to be responsible for wrecking your back. It’s a king-sized bed. There’s plenty of room. Surely, Wilbur won’t mind sharing with both of us.”

  Wilbur isnae the problem. But he wasn’t about to tell her that.

  “All right. If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  He could be a gentleman. He wasn’t about to make some kind of move on her. He was in total control.

  It would be fine.

  Skye woke to delicious warmth and a total inability to feel her legs. She was tucked up against Jason’s chest, using his shoulder as a pillow, one arm resting over his heart. His arms were wrapped around her as if she belonged right here. She had no idea whether she’d reached for him or he for her in the night, and right this moment, she didn’t care. She just wanted to bask in the sensation of being close enough to smell his sleep-warmed skin after having spent more than half the night talking about anything and everything.

  The basking was interrupted by the pins and needles starting up below her knees. She realized Wilbur had elected to sprawl across both their legs. His soft, wuffling doggy snores were pretty damned cute, but she wasn’t sure they were cute enough to stop her from trying to regain adequate blood flow to her lower extremities, which would also likely wake Jason and put an end to their current position. Not wanting to face the potential awkwardness of that, Skye stayed exactly where she was.

 

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