Inside the Lines: Without a Trace series, a contemporary erotic romance novel by Ally Bishop Read Free Book Online

all of my life—I was born in New Jersey—is that I know a lot of people, and I’m familiar with most of the neighborhoods. I send a couple of texts while we walk to the subway stop.
    Two stops later, we’re above ground and stepping inside Le Chateau Lauxmont. A privately owned, chic bed and breakfast, it also houses one of the best kept secrets in the city. Once inside, you feel as though you’ve entered a quaint, French farmhouse, resplendent with tarnished antiques and local art. The steaks are certified Kobe, and the chef is known internationally for his skill. There’s also a waiting list for Friday nights several months out, so that we are able to slip inside and get a table…let’s just say, it pays to have connections.
    “Shall we?” I glance at Fin, who looks appropriately impressed.
    “Indeed.” Fin offers me his arm, and I take it, feeling my stomach jump a little at the contact. His forearm feels like solid steel beneath my fingers. I secretly wish he would have worn short sleeves, though the cool October evening prevents that.
    Once we’re seated, Fin winks at me. “From now on, ye’ll always choose the restaurant.”
    I laugh and twirl a strand of hair around my fingers. “You say that like you already know there’ll be a second date.”
    He leans forward. “Since ye’re still sitting with me after all my fuck ups so far, I’m hoping I can talk ye into it.” His dimples show as he grins.
    “We’ll see, Fin…what is your last name?”
    “MacKenzie.”
    “Wow. You are Scottish through and through.”
    “Aye. Weel, would ye expect less?”
    “So, then, Mr. MacKenzie, tell me your tale.” I peel off my jacket, and I notice his eyes tracing the outline of my shoulder ink.
    “That’s a fair piece there, and a beauty. I thought so when I first saw it, though I couldn’t see it clearly. What is it, if ye don’t mind me asking?”
    I turn sideways so he can see the full image. “It’s a peacock.” The body of the bird is on my shoulder blade, and his feathers curl around my shoulder in a blaze of color.
    He reaches out, his fingers trailing over the image. The touch surprises me, but he doesn’t seem to have the same reticence that most people do about touch…or perhaps because I’ve seen him naked, the typical rules don’t apply. Either way, the heat of him sends a thrill down my spine.
    “That’s fine work. Does it signify something for ye?”
    I sit back, toying with the edge of the menu as I choose my words. “The peacock loses his feathers every year after mating season. Then, when it comes time to rustle up some female attention, he regrows them. So they’ve been seen as a symbol of renewal in some cultures.”
    His full lips quirk up at the corners. “So that’s what it means to ye, then? Renewal?”
    “It’s like a rebirth, or being given a second chance to get it right, if you will.” I narrow my eyes. “And I recognize a stall tactic when I hear one. Out with it — what’s your story?”
    He chuckles. “Aye, well, there’s not much to tell. I’m from just outside of Edinburgh, a wee town called Kirkliston. Verra small. So when I went to university, I got see a bit of the world—at least, outside of my hometown. My da owns a small cleaners, and Mum’s been working with him since they opened it. Never was much money for travel and the like, so I stayed close.”
    The waiter takes our drink order, and Fin waits politely until the small man leaves. “So the only real travel I ever did was playing football—well, ye call it ‘soccer’ here in America. I played quite a bit, and that’s what I did for some time in school. Still do.”
    “So you’re a soccer player? Er, football player, I mean?”
    His cheeks pinken. “Not exactly, no. Well, I mean, aye, I do play soccer—for a local team, mind ye, not anything extravagant. I’m actually a horse trainer. Or at least, I fancy myself as such.”
    “Wow.” I look at Fin in a new light. “That’s not