CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER

THREE

"B

ea!" Sofia declared.

Bea and her husband, Travis, were standing at her door. Sofia had gotten to know the couple while staying in Scotland at Tawnyetta's castle...before it was Tawnyetta's castle. Short and spunky, and always up for a laugh, Bea had been easy to know and like. Travis, on the other hand, had spent most of the time with his father and brother-in-law and came across much more reserved than his wife.

"Sofia!" Bea threw open her arms.

Sofia leaned down to give her a hug. "Come in," she said as she stepped aside and made room for them to enter. "What are you doing here?" Sofia asked as she motioned for them to take a seat on the sofa.

"You're in London," Bea said as she sat down and patted the seat next to her for Travis to take. She waved her hand back and forth between the two of them and Sofia. "

We're

in London."

"Right, of course," Sofia said. She had included Bea on her list of people to contact in London, but had not had the time to reach out to her just yet.

"Tawnyetta told us your address and we thought we would pop by as a surprise." When Bea said 'pop' she flared her fingers out and wiggled them. Jazz hands.

Sofia smiled. "Would you like something to drink?"

Luckily, she had been to the liquor store the day before and picked up a bottle of white wine. She offered it to them in the yellow and white checked coffee mugs from her cupboard.

"Sorry, no wine glasses yet," she explained.

Bea giggled. Bea was always giggling at something. "These are darling! Aren't they, Travis?"

Travis, a tall, droopy looking man, nodded without looking up. "Tastes the same either way," he said quietly then quickly downed half of the wine in his cup in one gulp.

"How do you like your new place?" Bea asked.

"I like it just fine. Just settling in."

"When do you start at King's?" Bea seemed well informed about Sofia's life. Sofia didn't mind. It was nice to talk to friendly faces.

"Monday morning," she answered as she poured more wine for Travis. He had swallowed the second half just as quickly as the first.

"Travis studied there," Bea offered this information as she nudged her husband.

Travis looked up from his cup and let the comment register before responding, "Oh, yes, yes." It was obvious to Sofia that he had been coached by his wife before they got there. "I did. Fine university. What department will you be in?"

"Natural and Mathematical Sciences."

To her surprise, Travis' droopy eyes lit up. "That was my department."

"Really?"

To say that Travis was an introvert was probably an understatement. Now that he had gulped down a glass of wine and found out that Sofia shared his math and science brain, he loosened up.

"Wait," he said as he sat forward on the cushion. "Will you be working with Professor Shipley?"

Just the mention of the man's name hit Sofia's internal nervous button. She nodded 'yes'.

Travis blew a quiet whistle. "That's a challenge, that is."

"Now, now," Bea nudged Travis again, this time a bit harder than the first time. "We came by to invite you to dinner, not talk about crusty old professors." Travis didn't appear to hear her at first. She nudged again.

"What's that?" he said as he turned to his wife. She raised her eyebrows at him and her meaning came through. "Of course, of course, won't you join us for dinner tomorrow night?" Travis asked Sofia.

Sofia hedged for just a moment before answering, "Thank you, that's very nice. I would love to."

The next evening

it was Sofia's turn to knock on a door.

She had found Bea and Travis's small house with not too much trouble. Thank goodness for the taxi service. Their home was in Hampstead, which was a pretty area. A charming stone walkway led to a front door that was painted robin's egg blue. An iron fence flanked both sides of the path. So many flowers and shrubs filled the small front yard that they spilled over the fence and their scent filled the air, bringing lightness to Sofia's heart. She was glad to be settled into her new place and happy to be joining friends for dinner. Everything about her new life here seemed to be coming together. Maybe she could start to relax.

She shifted the bottle of wine she'd brought as a gift into her left hand where she already held her purple sweater, it might rain later in the evening. She knocked on the blue door with her free hand. The muffled sound of talking and laughing came through from the other side. She heard footsteps getting louder as they neared, the click of a lock disengaging, then the door pulled open.

The smile she expected to give Bea froze on her face and her greeting stuck in her throat. It wasn't Bea who answered the door. Nor was it Travis as she might have expected. It was, instead, a complete stranger. A man. Tall, fair-skinned, with deep red hair cut short and styled well. He had a strikingly handsome face that left her searching for words and...was she seeing it right? Yes, she was. Golden yellow eyes.

Sofia opened her mouth then shut it again. She was overcome with the feeling that she'd seen him before...but no...that would be impossible.

"I'm sorry," she stammered as she looked at the numbers over the door for verification of where she was. "I must have the wrong house." Sofia stepped back so she could retreat to the sidewalk and regroup when the man spoke up and stopped her.

"Wait, no, you're Sofia, right?"

She halted and looked more closely at him. "Yes, I am. Do I know you?"

"Not yet," the man smiled and it seemed to light up the space around him. "I'm Ian," he said. Then he stepped back into the door and gestured for her to come inside. Her eyes were drawn to his arms, exposed by his short-sleeved shirt. They were taunt and roped with muscle. They were also covered with tattoos. "Bea and Travis are in the kitchen wrestling with some kind of lamb dish. They asked me to get the door." His voice was deep, smooth, a British accent of course.

Ian. Ian? Where did she know him from?

Sofia came through the door cautiously and went straight into a tight entryway. Ian pressed himself against the wall with one arm stretched out to hold the door open for her as she came in. The space was so small that they ended up very close together. As Sofia inched carefully by him she took in his excellent bone structure, the golden yellow of his eyes, his cologne–which was completely distracting–and the tattoos on his neck snaking out from under the collar of his shirt.

Tattoos. Tattoos! That's why he looked familiar. She looked up at him with sudden recognition. This was the lead singer of the band at Tawnyetta's wedding. What were they called again?

Ian grinned down at her in a kind of 'I know you but you don't know me' way as she made her way by him. One wrong move by either of them and their bodies would touch in several different places. Her eyes wandered quickly down his lean form and decided that wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. She remembered the rush of excitement she had felt when he winked at her from the stage at Tawnyetta's wedding reception. The sex appeal he exuded while performing had been enticing.

"Aren't you?" She stopped. She could not remember the name of the band. "Weren't you...?"

Ian lifted his eyebrows waiting for her to finish.

"Didn't you sing at the wedding? At the castle?" She finally got the words out, if a bit awkwardly.

His face so close to hers, already amused, broke into another wide smile that spread so completely across his expression it was like he was shining. Then he ducked his head down in a half proud, half embarrassed way. He lifted his gaze to hers from that position and his smile came from deep in his eyes. Goosebumps shimmered up her arms and across her neck.

"Yes, I did. For Michael, er, I mean Laird MacBrody."

He switched his British accent to Scottish brogue as he said Michael's title with a flourish, making her smile then blush. A reaction to their closeness and his intensity. Was it getting hot in here? She suddenly realized that she had not yet moved all the way past him and their bodies were still in danger of pressing against each other. She stepped further down the hallway, her heels clicking on the tiled floor.

Sofia had dressed semi-casual for the evening. She wore crisp tailored grey slacks that cropped just above her ankle and had topped them off with a baby doll style, black blouse that showed off her bust line. Her heels were a cute pair of sling back sandals. Her straight, black hair was up in a knotted bun, but long tresses in the front fell down and framed her face. She called it her 'Meghan before she married Harry' bun.

Ian had on a pair of dark jeans and a black short-sleeved button up shirt. Though monotone, the shirt had a sleek, sexy, rockabilly look to it that definitely gave him a musician vibe. Or maybe it was the tattoos. Sofia was still in the middle of the small hallway looking back at him, and he at her, when Bea called out to her from somewhere deeper in the house.

"You remember Ian, don't you Sofia?"

Sofia broke the look she was sharing with Ian and turned to Bea, but not before she saw a sparkle in Ian's strange, gold eyes. "Yes," she said to Bea. "From the wedding."

Bea ushered her into a smartly decorated dining area where four places were set at a dinner table and said, "Yes! The Robot Tellers!"

That's right, that was his band's name.

Travis, wearing a full size floral print apron, joined them from the kitchen. His face brightened when he saw her. "Hello, Sofia."

"Hello," Sofia said as she lifted the wine bottle. "I brought some wine for dinner."

Dinner, it turned out, was the four of them; Bea, Travis, Sofia, and Ian. Having an attractive man as the unexpected fourth threw Sofia for a bit of a loop. However, Bea was so good at keeping up the conversation and Travis was much less introverted in his own home, all of which made the whole night tolerable. More than tolerable if she was being honest. The wine helped, too.

Ian was an old college friend of Michael's and hadn't known Bea and Travis before the castle wedding where Sofia had seen him perform. Bea and Travis had stopped to help Ian and his band on the side of the road while driving back to London. Ian's van had broken down. They'd since become friends.

"I still don't know if Ian was more concerned about getting his band mates home or his guitar," Travis said with a chuckle.

"Guitar, absolutely," Ian responded. "And, I guess the drum set, too." He leaned back in his chair, a move that showed off a strong, flat abdomen underneath his sleek shirt. He looked at Sofia, the sparkle he'd had in his eyes when she left him in the hallway was there again. "Do you like music?"

Sofia found it impossible to look away from him. The color of his eyes was strange. She'd never seen anything like it. Tawnyetta had amber eyes that could glow a liquid golden brown, which were quiet arresting. But Ian's eyes were golden yellow all the time. Like a cat. They flashed with intelligence, humor, and something Sofia couldn't quite put her finger on, something electrifying.

"Um, yes, I like music," she stammered.

Seated across from her, Ian leaned forward and put his elbows on the table, his colorful tattoos in stark contrast to his pale skin. He continued to hold her gaze with his. "Who do you like?"

Sofia could not think of one band that she could mention. Not one singer or musician came to mind. She had always been terrible at remembering names of bands or the songs they sang. With Ian watching her it was impossible for her to answer. She drew a complete blank.

A beeping noise erupted from the kitchen.

"The meat pie!" Bea exclaimed. She and Travis both hopped up from the table and rushed into the kitchen, the bow on the back of Travis' apron flopping wildly as they disappeared through the door.

"Lamb pie," Ian said.

Sofia turned her attention back to him and became intensely aware that they were quite alone in the dining room. "Is that was we're having?" She'd never had a meat pie and wasn't sure it sounded very appetizing. To be polite she said, "It smells good."

"It smells delicious. I don't get many home cooked meals anymore, so it's a real treat."

"Do you travel a lot with your music?" Sofia managed to come up with a semi-intelligent question.

Ian nodded and picked up the open bottle of wine. "May I?" he asked as he tipped it toward her glass, which was almost empty. She nodded. He spoke as he poured, "Yes, I do a lot of takeaway."

Her mind clicked through the possible meanings of that statement. Finally it landed on one that made sense. "Right, takeout. Me too, especially since I got here. I don't have much of a kitchen at my apartm–at my flat."

The sound of lighthearted bickering in the kitchen drifted over the guitar music Bea had put on for ambience. They both paused then shared a smile.

"Married life," Ian said wryly.

Sofia laughed sharp and loud. It was such an unexpected sound she shut her mouth tight to stop it. He grinned at her, his eyes gleaming with that odd intensity again. Embarrassed at her outburst she looked down at her wine glass and took a deep sip, wondering what else they could talk about.

"You should come to a concert," Ian said. He had leaned back in his chair again and was sipping his wine, looking at her over the glass.

"Your concert?"

He nodded and swallowed. "Yeah..." his cat eyes continued gazing at her. Then, as if he'd realized he was staring, he looked down at his hands. His shoulders hunched forward just a bit and she got the distinct impression he had turned shy all of a sudden. "If you want. You may not like it."

A flutter of nerves erupted in her stomach. Was he asking her out? She couldn't tell for sure. The fluttering increased and Sofia took another sip of wine. Washing her nervous stomach with wine didn't do much to reduce her nerves. She didn't know if she would be capable of eating anything called lamb pie.

"I've heard you sing," Sofia said. She meant it as proof that she had enjoyed his performance. That's not how he took it.

"Ouch," he responded.

"No, that's not what I meant," Sofia started to explain.

"Rosemary and garlic lamb pie," Bea announced. She held a bowl of tossed greens while Travis followed her, savory lamb pie in his oven mitt covered hands.

Dinner was on. The time to explain herself to Ian was over. As the meal and conversation progressed Sofia realized it wasn't that important. It's not like she had been looking for a date, especially not with a rock musician. She couldn't deny the attraction between them, but in the real world he wasn't her type.

Besides she had bigger concerns looming on the horizon. Monday morning she would be reporting to her first day at work, and when she remembered that fact the fluttering nerves in her stomach morphed into full-blown tremors of anxiety.