Summary:
Angus MacIntyre doesn’t have a date for Valentine’s Day, but that doesn’t stop him from dreaming of the possibilities. On a night out with his best friend, he impulsively says hello to a stranger and is disappointed when they don’t reconnect before the night is over.
Angus just knows they’d had a moment and is delighted when the stranger finds a way to make contact via a roll of candy hearts.
Together they enjoy one week in Scotland, the stranger bound for home in Canada when business concludes. Angus just knows that there can be more, that it’s meant to be, but how, when there is a literal ocean between their hearts?
Another new to me author and what a great place for an introduction. Aye Candy is short, sweet, and an all around delightful Valentine's read. Heck, it's just a great short read for anytime of year.
I have wondeful memories of giving and receiving the tiny little boxes of candy hearts at school on Valentine's Day, it was wonderful to see them used as a flirty adult holiday gift. You know what? I'm not going to say any more as I don't want to spoil this delightful little gem for those who like me are just discovering Aye Candy. I will say that it definitely puts Claire Castle on my authors-to-watch list.
“Is this your version of he loves me, he loves me not people do with flowers?”
I pierced my best friend with a sarcastic look and continued opening the sweet, heart-shaped sweets, hoping to find the perfect message. If I ended up eating the whole packet before that occurred, well that was the company’s fault, as far as I was concerned. “You already know the answer, Ashlyn!”
Crossing my arms, I let out a huff. “Now let me have my ritual before we go out. It can’t hurt anything.”
Then I stood up from my round bed and did a twirl around the room. Fairy lights covered most of my bedroom walls giving the room a magical quality.
“Now go get ready.” I tried to shove my flatmate out and into her own room. “We shall have a night out for our own version of Gal-entine’s Day, but as I’m not exactly a gal, unless you count my love of clothes. Maybe Gay-lentine’s Day? Hmm but you aren’t gay. Okay well, more thought is needed on that. And no ditching the other for a hot guy.”
“Angus, you are more notorious for that than I am.”
I never did agree or disagree with her, instead shooing her away. Then I stood in the mirror and added some mousse to my hair, trying to get it to have that just-out-of-bed messy look. People didn’t realize the time it took to get that when it was nine p.m. and you were headed out drinking.
Satisfied with my look, I wandered to the living room, waiting impatiently for Ashlyn. Finally, she appeared. “You look amazing, darling.”
“As do you. I see you have your sassy pants on. And you were lecturing me about not leaving each other.”
I let out a harumph, for my black and orange plaid trousers always drew men to me like a moth to a flame. “Well, the last love heart wasn’t that sublime, so ....” I trailed off, knowing she was onto me.
There was crunching underfoot as we walked arm in arm down the street to our favourite pub. A surprise Glasgow snowfall was pleasant to look at but not so much fun to walk in, in more-than-I could-really-afford gold-trimmed shoes.
It was still early February, but Ashlyn and I always celebrated Valentine’s Day a little early, just in case one of us did find a man to romance us on the actual day.
Most years had us drinking and watching sappy Hugh Grant movies together while nattering on about true movie love. And buying half-price chocolate the next day.
Unconsciously I straightened my shoulders. Maybe this year would prove different. I placed my hand on my tie to make sure it was straight. “Och aye, here we go, Ashlyn.”
The pub was full of old Scottish charm. The walls were covered in vintage pub advertising memorabilia. Booths lined the outside walls, with the long bar in the middle. At the back was a small dancefloor. We always sat back there to people watch.
“Usual?” Ashlyn questioned as she made her way up to the bar.
I nodded in response and went to find our favourite table, hoping it would be vacant.
Instead, there was a man sitting there surrounded by papers and a laptop, obviously trying to work. How that was possible was beyond me. The pub was quite busy tonight, never mind the music playing for the people who wanted to dance.
If I was being honest, I momentarily considered finding another table, but I was all about serendipity and the magic of coincidence. I let out a giddy breath when I saw a roll of candy hearts sitting beside him.
He looked up then, and I was greeted to the most beautiful grey eyes that I had ever seen. There were a few laugh lines around them, and I imagined him to be about ten years older than my young twenty-four. Okay fine, twenty-five. I was still in denial about turning a quarter of a century at the end of last year.
He smiled at me and then looked back down at his work.
“Be mine,” I blurted out. Not my usual come on line, but those eyes had obviously made me cut to the chase.
He raised his head slowly, amusement dancing in those eyes. “Sorry, I would, except my granny has curtains in the same exact pattern as your pants,” he said in a teasing tone. If I was to guess, that was a Canadian accent coming from his gorgeous lips.
I wasn’t used to men giving me back as good as I gave and keeping me on my toes. Frankly, it delighted me. “I’ll have you know these pants” —I dramatically gestured to my lower half— “have gotten me into very many men’s....” I broke off as he sat there chuckling. Jerk! Hot and funny, but still potentially a jerk.
Trying to compose myself, I pointed to the candy hearts on the table. “Actually, I meant your candy hearts. I’m guessing the next one you take out will say that. I love them. They are my favourite sweets this time of year.”
Claire Castle grew up surrounded by books. She has loved reading for her whole life. Her true love is romance and HEAs. When she’s not reading or writing, she can be found wearing comfortable leggings, watching Schitt's Creek, and dreaming up new ideas.
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