Glasgow Grace by Marion Ueckermann

know it was there. Was he waiting for her permission to explore what had been so natural to them as teens? She took the lead and entwined her fingers with his and squeezed. “Da would have let you, but by then he was so ill, no fight left in him to argue any longer with my mother over you.” She gazed into his eyes. “I wish you had taken me. You would’ve looked dashing in a kilt.”
    “Well, you did look amazing in your white ball gown.”
    “You saw me? How?”
    Callum’s mouth lifted on one side. “I stood in the shadows opposite your house that night, waiting to catch a glimpse of you.”
    “You did? You never told me.”
    “I know. I felt too foolish the next day. Like a stalker. So, I kept quiet about my lapse into jealousy. I—it was the first time you had been out with anyone but me.”
    “And I hated it. Thought of you all night long. Imagined it was your arms holding me as we danced.”
    “I spent the night brooding about how much I wanted to kick your kilt-attired escort in his tush.”
    Laughter burst from Skye’s mouth. “That would have put new meaning to the Highland fling. I’m very glad you didn’t—you could’ve revealed to the world what a Scotsman wears beneath his kilt.”
    The yearbook slid from Callum’s grasp and fell to the carpeted floor with a thunk as he lifted his hand to clasp her cheek. Stroking it with his thumb, he whispered her name, his voice husky. He moved his hand and edged his fingers through her hair like a wave rushing up the beach. Grasping the back of her head, he willed her face toward his.
    She needed no encouragement. Her breathing increased its pace as she closed her eyes and parted her lips.
    The shrill sound of her cellphone sliced through the moment, breaking the spell.
    Callum groaned and pulled her to his chest, holding her tight. He kissed the top of her head. “You want to get that?”
    Skye buried her face in his shoulder, her answer soft. “No…” Oh, my, did he smell good. She released a thankful sigh as the ringing stopped then tipped her head toward Callum. Would he realize her eyes pleaded for him to continue where he had left off?
    Placing a finger beneath her chin, he inched her mouth closer. Once again, she closed her eyes, expectant. Once again, the shrill ring of the phone, determined to ruin the moment.
    “I can’t believe this.” She pulled away from Callum.
    “I think you’d better get that,” he flashed a grin, “so that we can continue uninterrupted.” He reached to the side, grabbed Skye’s cellphone and handed the bothersome device to her.
    She glanced at the caller ID displayed on the screen. Much as she didn’t want to, she’d have to answer. Mother would not go away until she did. Besides, Skye had a lot of things to say to her. She’d had a few days to mull over the reality of her mother’s actions all those years ago when she’d altered the course of their lives.
    ~*~
    Skye turned the phone toward Callum. He recognized the face in the corner icon. Would that woman ever stop coming between them?
    “I’m sorry. I’ll have to take this.” Skye pouted, clearly not looking forward to the conversation.
    “It’s all right. Go ahead.”
    Swiping her fingertip across the screen, she answered the call, her voice as cold as the weather outside. “Mother…why are you calling? It must be the middle of the night there. Is something wrong with Ted?” She pushed up off the bed and walked across to the window. Turning, she glanced at Callum and smiled before crossing her right arm over her chest. Her fingers wrapped around the upper half of the arm that held the phone to her ear. Ready for battle?
    Callum had seen that stance as a teenager whenever they found something to argue about. Would Skye confront her mother about the letters? Now? With him still in the room?
    “Because I only just got back to my hotel room, Mother. I’ve been away…drove to Portree for Christmas to visit Da’s grave.” Only a few days back