“I’d like that very much. I am really tired.” She released his hands. “I hadn’t planned on being out tonight.”
“I’m glad you came.”
“So am I.” Skye flicked her hair over her shoulders and blinked several times. “But I guess I really do need to get some sleep. I just came off an international flight from the other side of the world and a sleep-deprived afternoon today.”
Callum pushed away his disappointment. There’d be more chances for him to be alone with her. There had to be. “How did you get here tonight?”
“I caught a taxi.”
“Where are you staying?”
“The Crowne Plaza, beside Bell’s Bridge.”
Just the mention of that River Clyde crossing brought a smile to his face. He stood and weaved his fingers between hers before looking up across the room. The patrons were waiting, expectant. “Sorry, folks. That’s all for today.”
Murmurs rumbled through the pub.
“Come. Let me take you home.”
Still holding onto his hand, Skye nodded and slid off her chair.
“Wait here while I grab your things.”
“I’ll come with you. I want to say hello to your Da and Ma.”
“And risk never getting home? While I’d love nothing more than for you to say hello to them, there’ll be plenty of time for that. You’re tired. You need your sleep.” Reluctantly, he released her hand. “I’ll be right back.”
Would he ever be able to wipe the grin from his face? This all seemed surreal. He kept turning to look at her as he made his way to the bar where Tavish took his turn as bartender. He leaned across the counter. “Is Da in the kitchen?”
“Aye.”
“Pass me Skye’s things.”
“Please…”
Callum clipped Tavish’s head with his hand. “Like you’ve got any manners to speak of.”
Tavish ducked beneath the counter and surfaced with Skye’s bag, coat, and scarf in his hands, and a wider-than-usual grin on his face. He pushed her belongings across the counter.
“The two oh yees lookt guid up therr taenight. Guid thing yi don’t hiv tae pick ‘tween yir auld luv an yir new, brither. Awfy guid timin’, yir split wae Katie, noo Skye’s back in toon.”
Tavish’s statement ripped through Callum. “You’ve no idea what you’re talking about. My breakup with Katie had nothing to do with Skye.”
“Aye, right…an the Pope’s naw Catholic.”
Callum huffed. He didn’t have time to spar with Tavish. “Give me your car keys.”
“Whit?”
“Give me your car keys,” he repeated, running short on patience.
“Yiv goat yir oan fancy motor. Why wudyi want tae use ma auld faunty?”
Why indeed? He’d rather drive Skye home in his BMW than his brother’s beat-up Beetle, even though that small car held beautiful memories. He’d almost cried the day he gave it to Tavish. “I don’t want Skye to know of my success. Not yet.” He pointed a finger at Tavish. “So don’t you spurt your mouth off.”
“Whits init fur me?”
Why did his brother always want something in exchange for a favor? He let out an exaggerated sigh. “You can drive my car for a week.”
“Make it a month, wae fuel, an yiv goat yirself a deal.”
Mumbling about the hard bargain his brother drove, Callum handed over his keys. Having the Beetle for a month actually suited him fine, but he wouldn’t let Tavish know that.
Digging deep in his jeans’ pocket, Tavish pulled out a single key. It dangled from a Scottish thistle-shaped key ring. The paint had flaked off long ago, leaving only a tarnished silvery shape. He slid it across to Callum.
Callum wrapped his fingers around the key ring. “I hope there’s petrol in your car.”
“Some.” The smirk on Tavish’s face told Callum he’d be lucky if he made it back home from the Crowne Plaza.
Pocketing the key, Callum grabbed Skye’s belongings and turned. Seeing her waiting for him, his heart bounced like a rubber ball—from one side of his chest to the other. They’d be alone at last. Would it be awkward? Or would it be like old times? He hoped the latter. Already, he could feel her arms around him, her lips on his. In the few steps it took to get back to Skye, Callum knew he had no choice but to pursue her.
They had too much history, and they had never been given the chance for a future.
3
The cold night air caught Skye’s breath as she stepped outside McGuire’s, giving her a reprieve from the jet lag that had overwhelmed her while waiting for Callum. She tightened the scarf around her neck as she coughed.
Callum touched her arm. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not ill, are you?”
“Heaven forbid. I’ve been struggling for a few weeks with an incessant tickle in my throat, that’s all, but I am medicating.”
Concern etched Callum’s face. “Is it sore?”
“A little.”
“You should see a doctor.”
“I’m sure by the time rehearsals start, it will have cleared.” She looked left and right. “So, which way?”
Callum linked his arm around hers. “The car’s across the road.” He pointed to the red Beetle parked beneath a streetlamp.
Skye’s eyes widened. With its covering of snow, it looked like a giant, red velvet cupcake. Being back inside that car would be just as sweet. With a squeal, she brought her hands to her mouth, blocking the vapor that escaped. “You still have her? I can’t believe it.” She ran across the street, leaving Callum trailing behind.
Turning, she rubbed her hands together. “Hurry. It’s cold out here.”
As soon as Callum unlocked the door, Skye bundled inside the car. She breathed deep of the familiar smell while Callum ran around to the other side. Leaning over, she pulled the door handle back to unlock his door.
He fell into the driver’s seat. “Thank you.”
Overcome with nostalgia, Skye wrapped her arms around Callum before he could say another word, and pressed her lips to his, desperate to reclaim sixteen years.
He responded with the same urgency.
By the time they emerged, the windows had misted. Skye sat up and smoothed her hair into place. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” She ran a fingertip over her lips and gave Callum a fleeting glance before staring out of the milky windshield. “You’re not married, are you?” She daren’t look at him for fear of his answer.
“No.”
She turned to face him. “Engaged?”
Callum shook his head, grinning as his fingers trailed her leg. “I’m not.”
The way he said “I’m not” confused Skye. “Not engaged?”
“I’m not sorry you kissed me. And, no, I’m not engaged either.”
She placed her hand over Callum’s, eased her fingers between his, and lowered her gaze to the dash, focusing on the round speedometer in front of the steering wheel. She breathed in deep. “Neither am I.”
“Not engaged?”
“Not sorry. Not engaged. ”
With a smile, Callum started the car and pulled into the road. Silence reigned during the drive to Skye’s hotel.
What just happened?
Callum parked in the hotel lot and switched off the engine. He turned toward her. How like the Phantom he looked, one side of his face bathed in moonlight, the other masked in the shadows. But he, Callum McGuire, was her angel of music. Always had been.
“Do you want to come up to my suite for coffee?”
“Do you think that’s wise?”
“I promise I won’t kiss you again. Yet.”
A low chuckle rumbled from his lips. “That’s not what I meant. Do you think it’s wise to drink coffee now? You’re tired, and keeping you awake half the night won’t help you.”
“I’m sure I saw sachets of decaf.” Skye reached for him and slid her arm around his waist. “Besides, would that be such a bad thing? We have a lot of catching up to do. I want to hear everything you’ve been up to.”
“Not as much as I want to hear about your life in Australia and how you became a star.”
She grinned. “Maybe I should hold off on the decaf.”
He gently rubbed his thumb against the side of her arm. “You don’t have to do this tonight. We can take a raincheck.”
Skye pointed to the windshield. The snow had given way to drizzle. “In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s raining now.”
“Why don’t you rest up tonight and join us tomorrow for Christmas Eve? My ma’s cooking her traditional Scottish Christmas dinner.”
Was he trying to dissuade her? Surely not. He’d invited her to the most special evening one could share. With his family.
“I’d love that. Still, won’t you come upstairs for a while? The fresh air has woken me, and I really want to talk with you. We didn’t get to do that tonight, and tomorrow I’m sure we won’t get a chance either.”
“All right. A cup of coffee would go down well.” Callum reached behind his seat and rummaged on the floor, coming up empty-handed. He muttered beneath his breath.
Skye was certain she heard his brother’s name.
“Have you lost something?”
“Uh…I thought I had a brolly in the back. I was wrong. Guess we’ll be getting a little wet.”
“Won’t be the first time.” She smiled.
“Or the last…”
Hanging onto each other and taking care not to fall, they crossed the slippery tarmac, laughing as rain fell onto their clothes and skin.
If only I’d taken a hat. Please God, don’t let this make my throat worse.
Once inside her suite, jacket and shoes removed and stored in the empty front closet, Skye grabbed two towels from the bathroom. She flung one at Callum and used the other to dry her hair. She should’ve packed an umbrella when she left Sydney, but she hadn’t given a thought to Glasgow’s wet weather.
With the kettle heating, Skye opened two coffee sachets and dumped them into white porcelain mugs. She turned to Callum. He stood at the window, staring across the city below. Poor baby. Probably never seen the view from so high before. “Milk and sugar?”
He let the curtain fall back in place. “Milk, no sugar.”
“Sweet enough already?”
“I doubt it.” A light shrug shadowed his response.
“There’s shortbread here. You want one?”
“Absolutely.” Callum settled down on the plush carpeted floor, propping himself up against the end of the bed and stretching his long legs out in front of him.
“Why don’t you sit on the chair?”
“I’m damp. Besides, it’s comfortable here.”
Skye finished making their coffee, decaf just to be safe. She couldn’t stay up all night, much as she wanted to. After unwrapping two shortbreads, she handed one to Callum with a mug, and then grabbed her own and settled on the floor beside him, legs outstretched, eager to hear what he’d been up to all these years.
“Hmm, hot.” Callum clasped his hands around the mug and stared at the contents before taking a sip.
Skye followed his lead.
After a few sips, Callum turned to her. “So, tell me all about your life, post-Callum McGuire.”
~*~
Eager to hear about Skye’s life, and get her talking first so they wouldn’t discuss what he’d been up to all these years, Callum prodded. “C’mon, don’t be shy. Tell me what happened after you left Scotland, besides elocution lessons. Have you enjoyed living in Australia?”
Curling her legs to the side, Skye turned to Callum and smiled. “I have. Australia’s a wonderful country. Very different from Scotland. Loads of sunshine, an ocean blue as a summer sky to swim in, and soft beaches to stretch out on. I hated it there initially—cried my way through the first year. Losing Da. Losing you. I thought I would die. I spent hours writing you letters. Finally, I gave up.” Her eyes narrowed, and her fingers whitened around the mug. “I am really angry at my mother for what she did.”
Callum reached over and tucked Skye’s hair behind her ear. “We don’t know for sure that she did anything.”
“Oh, she did.” Her head bobbed up and down. “I’m absolutely certain. I can’t believe I didn’t realize that until now.”
Bile rose in his throat at the thought of Skye’s mother and what she’d probably done. Even though he’d come to her defense, he knew she was capable and most likely had kept Skye from making contact. “Enough of Rita Robinson. She’s been mentioned too many times tonight.”
Skye smiled. “You’re right.”
“Back to you, please.”
“OK. When I surfaced from my time of mourning, I enrolled at the Sydney Conservatorium of Music at the University of Sydney, and spent the next five years doing my Undergraduate Degrees—BA and BMus. That’s Bachelor of Arts and Bachelor of Music Studies.”
“Oh.” He couldn’t tell her he knew exactly what the abbreviations stood for. He had a couple of them, too. Master of Surgery, MB ChB (Hons), MSc (Hons). “Sounds impressive, Miss Hunter. Your mother must be proud.”
“Too proud. But remember, no more talk of Rita Robinson.”
He grinned. “How could I have forgotten so soon? What instrument did you major in?” He bit his lip. He had to be careful what questions he asked.
“Piano. Mother was ecstatic that all those piano lessons in Glasgow weren’t for naught.”
“I’ll bet she was.” He emptied his cup and set it on the carpet beside him. “What did you do after you got those degrees?”
“Three years of Post Graduate Degrees—one for my Graduate Diploma in Music, and another two on my Master of Music Studies. Both in Opera Performance.”
“That’s a lot of studying. Didn’t you get tired of it?”
“I love what I do, but yes, I was tired when I finally graduated. Eight years of non-stop studying is long. Probably the reason I took the next year off, doing the things those years of study had kept me from. I spent autumn and winter on my mother’s couch reading paperback novels and watching movies, a bowl of buttered popcorn always by my side. Summer and spring saw me on Bondi beach with my nose buried in yet more novels.”
“I’ll bet your mother wasn’t pleased.”
“No, she wasn’t.” Skye placed a finger on Callum’s lips. “Enough. No more talk of her.”
He kissed her finger. “Agreed. So, was dating one of the things your studies kept you from?”
“Not really. I dated a little through the years.”
“Meet anyone special?”
She shook her head. “I always compared them to you. No one ever measured up.”
His eyes searched hers. “How’s that possible? We were just kids.” But Callum knew how. Nobody had ever measured up to Skye either. Even Katie had failed to fill the space in his heart that had always belonged to this girl…now a woman.