-The Highland Fling

OTHERTITLESBYMEGHANQUINN
AllherbookscanbereadinKindleUnlimited
GETTINGLUCKYSERIES
ThatSecondChance
ThatForeverGirl
ThatSecretCrush
ThatSwoonyFeeling
BRENTWOODBASEBALLBOYS
TheLockerRoom
TheDugout
TheLineup
TheTrade
TheChangeUp
TheSetup
MANHATTANMILLIONAIRES
TheSecrettoDatingYourBestFriend’sSister
DiaryofaBadBoy
BossManBridegroom
THEDATINGBYNUMBERSSERIES
ThreeBlindDates
TwoWeddingCrashers
OneBabyDaddy
BackintheGame(novella)
THEBLUELINEDUET
TheUpsideofFalling
TheDownsideofLove
THEPERFECTDUET
TheLeftSideofPerfect
TheRightSideofForever
THEBINGHAMTONBOYSSERIES
Co-Wrecker
MyBestFriend’sEx
TwistedTwosome
TheOtherBrother
STAND-ALONETITLES
TheModernGentleman
SeeMeAfterClass
TheRomanticPact
DearLife
TheVirginRomanceNovelistChronicles
NewlyExposed
TheMotherRoad
BOXSETSERIES
TheBourbonSeries
LoveandSportsSeries
Hot-LantaSeriesThisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,organizations,places,events,andincidentsareeitherproductsoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.
Textcopyright?2021byMeghanQuinn
Allrightsreserved.
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ISBN-13:9781542025225
ISBN-10:1542025222
CoverdesignbyCarolineTeagleJohnsonTomymother-in-law,Sue,andhersister,Wendy,foralwayspostingweirdarticlesonsocialmedia.Youinspiredthisbook.CONTENTS
PROLOGUEBONNIE
CHAPTERONEBONNIE
CHAPTERTWOBONNIE
CHAPTERTHREEBONNIE
CHAPTERFOURROWAN
CHAPTERFIVEBONNIE
CHAPTERSIXROWAN
CHAPTERSEVENBONNIE
CHAPTEREIGHTROWAN
CHAPTERNINEBONNIE
CHAPTERTENROWAN
CHAPTERELEVENBONNIE
CHAPTERTWELVEROWAN
CHAPTERTHIRTEENBONNIE
CHAPTERFOURTEENBONNIE
CHAPTERFIFTEENROWAN
CHAPTERSIXTEENBONNIE
CHAPTERSEVENTEENROWAN
CHAPTEREIGHTEENBONNIE
CHAPTERNINETEENROWAN
CHAPTERTWENTYBONNIE
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONEROWAN
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWOBONNIE
EPILOGUEROWAN
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUTTHEAUTHORPROLOGUE
BONNIE
“Whatthehellareyoudoinginhere?”
Afrightenedyelpescapesmylips.
Myarmsflail.
Mylegslaunchmeagoodtwofeetintheair—atleastthat’swhatitfeelslike.
ThemugI’vebeenholdingslipsfrommyfingersandshattersonthegroundasapairofferociousgreeneyesmeetsmine.
OhdearGod.?.?.thisishowitfeelstobesecondsfromyourdeath.
KiltyMcGrumpyshire.
WearingnothingbutapairofjeansundoneatthewaistandanintricateMacGregorclantattoowovenoverhisrightpecanddownhisarm,helookspositivelymurderous.
I’veseenthislookbefore.
He’sKiltyMcGrumpyshire,afterall.He’sknowntofrownmoreoftenthansmile
Butthisisanext-levelmurderlook.
LikeheactuallyjustmightpullthetriggerandlethisScottishfuryraindownuponme.
“Yousee—”
“Don’tfuckinglietome,Bonnie.”
ThatScottishaccentpurrsinmyears,makesmeweakintheknees,begsmetoripmyshirtopenandexposemyheavingbosom.
Herearemybreasts,youmanbeast.Takethemasyouwant.
“Well.?.?.??”hepresses,foldinghisarmsoverhisimpeccablybuiltbarrelofachest.
Doeshereallyexpectananswer?
Whenhe’sbarelydressed.
Hairmussed.
Lipsmoist.?.?.
GoodGod,thingshavegottenoutofcontrol.Ican’tprocessasinglethoughtwithoutsexualizingthemanstandinginfrontofme.
It’sallhisfault.
Howisagirlsupposedtogetanythingdonewhenthere’sahotScotprancing—well,notreallyprancing,morelikestrutting—yes,whenthere’sahotScotstruttingaroundwithhisshirtoff,displayinghisperfectlyproportionalnipple-to-pecratio?
It’snexttoimpossible.
Iblamehim.Iblamehimforeverything.
Well.?.?.Iguessifwe’replayingtheblamegame,Ialsowouldliketothrowsomeblametowardmybestfriend,Dakota,whogotmeintothismess.
Let’smovetoScotland.
Forsixmonths.
Getyououtofthisrutyou’relivingin.
FindjoyintheHighlands.
Thissix-monthendeavorhasdonenothingbutmakemerealizehowextremelyhornyIam,becauseinsteadofenjoyingthiscountry’sbeautifulculture,allIcanthinkaboutisliftingupeverykiltthatcrossesmypathandcheckingforunderwear.
I’maPervyPervertson.
Andit’sgottenmeintrouble.
Deeptrouble.Iwasonlysupposedtobehereforsixmonths.Iwassupposedtoforgetaboutthebrutalbreakupwithmynowex-boyfriend,ignorethefactthatI’dbeenfiredforthethirdtimeinthreeyears,andadmitthatIhavezerofutureaheadofme.
Instead.?.?.
I’vebecomegrosslyattachedtoagoatnamedFergus.
EmotionallyinvestedinatownknownbytouristsforitsCastrationStone,usedbytheSerpentQueen.
AndI’vefallenforthemanwhoiscurrentlystaringmedown,waitingformyresponse.
IfIwanttogetanyanswers,I’dbetterstartfromtheverybeginning.
FromthemomentDakotahandedmeherlaptoptolookatapost.
Apostthatwouldchangemylifeforever.?.?.CHAPTERONE
BONNIE
Cakeconsumedtoday:Oneslice.?.?.okaytwo.?.?.fine,FIVE,FIVELARGESLICES.
Jobsfiredfrom:One,makingthatatotalofthreejobsinthreeyears.Whatabrilliantlyterribleaccomplishment.
Evictionnotice:One,andnotbecausewedidn’tpayourbillsbutbecauseweturnedaone-bedroomintoatwo.?.?.illegally.Oops!
Dayssincelastmale-inducedorgasm:Sixty-five,anditwasn’tevenagoodorgasm,justatwitchofgratification.Ablip.Barelyapulseofpleasure.
Relationshipstatus:Dumpedandpainfullywallowinginself-pity.Thankyouverymuch,Harry.
This,myfriends,issadladystatus.Enjoy.
“We’redoomed,”Iwhine,slinkingdownintothevelvetysoftcushionsofourthriftstorecouch.“WhydidIhavetoeatallthecake?Cakewouldmakethisallbetterrightnow.”
“Becauseyourlifeisamess.”
DakotaDalton.
Fiercemotherhenofoursharedone-bedroomapartment,bestfriendsinceIwasnine,andcanbepersuadedbyanyvarietyofcake,justlikeme.She’sworkingthatwholeMegRyancircaKateandLeopoldvibewithherbluntshoulder-lengthblondehairandtake-no-prisonersstyle.
She’smyrock.
ThereasonI’mnotlyingonthebathroomfloorandpurposefullygivingmyselftoiletswirlies—thusisthecurrentstatusofmymentalhealth.
“HowcanyoupossiblybescrollingthroughFacebookrightnow,knowingwe’reboundtobehomelessinafewweeks?”
“Alcohol,”Dakotasays,bringingapinkplasticcupuptohermouthanddrainingitscontents.
“Thisisallmyfault.”
“Howisthisyourfault?”Dakotaasks,pausingatafunnymemeofasickly-lookingSpongeBobservingfood.
“Idon’tputgoodvibesoutintotheworld.ThisisGodsmitingme.”Iholdmyfistuptotheair.“I’llbebetter,youhearme?Iwon’teatallthecakeanymore.I’llgiveDakotatwo-thirdsofeverysheetcakeImakeandtakeameaslyone-third.That’slove.‘Sharewiththyneighbor’.?.?.somethinglikethat.”Pleading,Icontinue,“And.?.?.andI’llreallyapplymyself.Usethisbrainyoubestoweduponmetotrulymaxoutmypotential.Iwon’tgooutwithguyslikeHarryanymore.Guyswhowantonethingandonethingonly:thesinofthebedroom.”Irubmytemples,hopingandprayingthatanykindofzippityzapfromabovestrikesmewithanideaonhowtogetusoutofthismess.“AndIplanonreallysendingoutmyrésumé.I’mnotsureIwanttodothepersonal-assistantthing.It’snotasglamorousasIthoughtitwasgoingtobe—onepersoncanonlypickupdrycleaningsomanytimesbeforelosingtheirmind.ButI’llfindsomething.ThisweekendI’ll,uh.?.?.I’lltakeacareerassessmenttest.Yes,perfect.I’lltakeatest.Multiple,actually.I’lltakefive.?.?.no,ten.Tenseemslikeagoodnumber.Youlikethenumberten.?.?.TenCommandmentsandall.”Ismirkatthebigguy.“I’lltaketencareerassessmenttests,andthenI’llapplytojobsthatbestfitmytalents.I’llmakesomethingofthislife.”
“WhendidAnitahaveakid?”Dakotaasks,completelyoblivioustomypleading.
“DoyouthinkIshouldaddanything?”Iwhisperfromthesideofmymouth.
“Huh?Oh,uh.?.?.”Shetapsherchin.“MaybesomethingaboutHishair.”
“Idon’tknowwhatGod’shairlookslike.Doyou?”
“Uh.?.?.whiteandflowy?”
Ilookuptowardthecrackedceiling.“Andyourhairis.?.?.magnificent.DoyouuseHerbalEssences?”
“Idon’tthinkHeneedstoshower,”Dakotasays,clickingonapictureofAnita’sbabytogetabetterlook.“AndHesureasshitisn’tusingHerbalEssences.”
“Whythehellnot?”Iask,sittingupandstaringdownatmyfriend.
“BecauseHe’sGod.WhyuseHerbalEssenceswhenHecreatedPaulMitchell?”
Valid.
“WhatdoyouthinkHesmellslike?”
“Lightningboltsandcotton,”Dakotaanswersdreamily.
“He’snotZeus.”
“Hecould—”Dakotasitsup.Herbackstiffening,hermouthfallingopen,hereyeswidening.
Detectingthatsomethinghugeisabouttohappen,Iclaspmyhandstogether.“DidHe.?.?.hearus?”
Dakotashakesherhead.“No,butcheckthisout.”Sheturnsherlaptoptowardme,andmyeyeslockonasharedarticlefromhercrazyauntWendy—aperpetualoversharerofweirdshitonsocialmedia.Everwonderwhyyou’vefoundyourselfcaughtupwatchingavideoofanold-timeycowboyteachingyouhowtomakehuevosrancherosonarustedmetalgarbagecantop?It’sbecauseofpeoplelikeAuntWendy.
Tryingtogetmydrunkbraintofocus,Ireadthepostoutloud.“Helpwanted.LookingfortwofriendstomanagesmalltowncoffeeshopinCorsekelly,Scotlandforsixmonths.Noexperiencenecessary,allexpensespaid,includingfreeaccommodations.ApplicantsneedacheerydispositionandathirstfortheScottishHighlands.”Ilookatmybestfriend,eyebrowscocked.“Youcan’tbeserious.”
“IhaveathirstfortheHighlands.”
“DoyouevenknowwheretheHighlandsare?”
“InScotland.”
“WhereinScotland?”
“In.?.?.theHighlands.”
Rollingmyeyes,Ipushthecomputerbackontoherlap.“You’redrunk.”
“Bonnie,don’tyouremembertheresultsofyourgenetictesting?Itsaidyouwereone-sixteenthScottish.Don’tyouwanttovisitthelandsofyourdearlybelovedancestors?”
Ipointmyfingerfiercelyather.“Don’tyoudarethrowmyancestryonthelinelikethat.YouknowIloveageneticallycompletedfamilytree.”
“Comeon,thisistheperfectopportunity.”
“Dakota.”Ishakeher.“Areyouhearingyourself?YouareaskingtoapplyforajobinScotland.”
Shegrowsserious,andeventhoughhereyesareglazedoverfromthetequila,shelooksdownatherhands.“Iknowit’sbeenayearsinceIsabellabrokeupwithme,butit’sbeendifficulttomoveon.”
Oh.?.?.
Ileaninslightlytocatchthedistraughtlookonmyfriend’sface.Maybethisreallyisn’taboutmebut.?.?.abouther.
IsabellawasDakota’sfirstgirlfriend.
Yes.FIRST.GIRLFRIEND.
IsabellawasthegirlwhohelpedDakotafinallyidentifywithherself.
AndthenIsabellawentandbrokeDakota’sheart.
Firstloveishardenough.
Butfirstlovethatbringsontherealizationthatyou’regay.?.?.now,that’sawholeotherlevel.
“Icanunderstandthat.”Ireachoverandgiveherhandasqueeze.“Ican’timaginewhatitwouldbeliketobeinloveandloseit.”
“It’sbeenhard.”Sheglancesathercomputerscreen,movesthecursoroverto“Apply,”andclicksonthelink.
“Uh,whatareyoudoing?”Iask,startingtopanicthatshemightactuallybeseriousaboutthis.
“Applying.”
“Dakota—”
“Isn’tthisexciting?We’regoingtorunacoffeeshopinScotland!”shesaysasshetypeshernameintotheapplication.
Wow,okay.I’veheardofnervousbreakdownsafterseriousbreakups,butI’veneverwitnessedoneinperson.
Ineedtoproceedwithcaution.
“Oh,sweetie.”Ipullherintoahug.“You’redelusional.MaybeIshouldlayyoudownandbringyousomecake.IcanputanorderonDoorDashandhavesomesugarysweetnesstoyouintwenty-fivetothirtyminutes.”
“I’mnotdelusion—”
“Shhh,”Iwhisperinherearwhilegentlypushingherbackagainstthecouch.“Youpoordear.Ishouldhaveseenthesigns.Losingmyjobhasreallyturnedmeintoablindfriend,butIseeyounow.”Igrabherchinandforcehereyestomine.“Iseeyou,Dakota.”Ipathershoulder.“Now,youjustlieherewhileIorderthecake,andwecantrytofigureouthowtohandleallofthis.Don’tworry—we’llkeepthismentalcrisistoourselves.”
“I’mnothavingamentalcrisis.”
“Oh,honey.”Iwince.“That’swhateveryonesayswhenthey’regoingthroughamentalcrisis.”
Grabbingmycheeks,Dakotabringsmeinchesfromherface,tequilafreshonherbreath.“I’mnothavingamentalcrisis.WearegoingtoScotlandforsixmonths,wherewewilltakecareofacoffeeshopinasmalltowncalledCorsekelly.”
Carefully,Ilowerherhandsfrommyface.“Honestly,Ithinkyou’velostyourmindandyou’refrighteningmeabit.I’munsureofwhattodo.?.?.shouldIcallyourparents?Thisseemslikea‘timetocalltheparents’moment.”
Dakotasetshercomputeronthecoffeetableandturnstowardme,frustrationetchedacrossherface.Shecanapparentlysoberupinaninstantbecauseshelooksatmewithclear,seriouseyes.“Thetimingisperfectforbothofus.Youdon’thaveajob—”
“Wellawareofmyunemploymentstatus.”
“Wearebeingevicted.”
“WhichItakefullresponsibilityfor.”
“Andwebothneedachange,”shesays,hervoicegrowingsoftnow.“Ican’tthinkofanythingbetterthanwhiskingofftoScotlandforthesummer.”
“Whataboutyourjob?”
“YouknowIcandomygraphicdesignworkwhilewe’rethere.”True.Shejustrentsaworkspacesoshedoesn’tgetstuckinourdankapartmenttryingtofeelthecreativeflowwhileshehanddrawsprettypicturesonhertabletformultiplesocialmediainfluencers.She’spaidwell,she’sself-taught,andshecantakeitanywhere.
IfonlyIwereanartistlikeher—thenallourproblemswouldbesolvedandwewouldn’tbetalkingaboutmovingacrosstheworld.Unfortunately,I’venevertrulyfoundoutwhatI’mgoodat.IwaskindofhopingLosAngeleswasgoingtohelpmewiththat,butallit’staughtmeisthatcelebritiesareparticularabouttheircoffeeorders.
Iscratchthesideofmyhead.“But.?.?.wedon’tknowanythingaboutScotland.”
“Wedidn’tknowmuchaboutLosAngeles,andwestillmovedhere.”Yeah,andlookwherethatgotme.Myparents’disgruntledfacesflashthroughmymind.I’llneverforgetthelookstheygavemewhenItoldthemIwasn’tgoingtocollegebutinsteadpursuingadreaminthe“businessindustry,”hopefullyworkingmywaytobecomingapartyplanneror“somethingfunlikethat.”Yeah,usedthoseexactwords.
“Uh,wedroveupthe15fromHemet.Wedidn’ttakeaplanetoanothercountry,”Isay.“Ialreadymadeabigmove,andIhavenothingtoshowforit.”
Shenodsinunderstanding,butitdoesn’tchangeherlongsighashershouldersslump.AdefeatedpostureifI’veeverseenone.“Ineedthis,Bonnie.Ineedthisadventure,somethingtogetmeoutofhere,awayfromthememories.Iknowrunningawayisn’ttheanswertomyproblems,butIjustneedachancetobreathe,atleast.”
Istudyher.Vulnerabilityshinesthroughthetougharmorshewearsdaily.“Didsomethinghappen?”
Herteethrolloverherbottomlip.“Itwasthedayyouwerefired.IranintoIsabella.?.?.withhernewgirlfriend.”
“What?”Ipracticallyshout.“Andyoudidn’ttellme?”
“Becauseyou’dbeenfired.Youneededme,soIhelditin,butit’sbeeneatingatme.Theyweresohappyand—”Herbottomlipquivers,soIquicklypullherintoahug.
“Shhh,it’sokay.”IsqueezemyeyesshutandholdbacktheonslaughtofcursewordsIwanttocallIsabella.IrubDakota’sback,myeyestravelingtotheopenlaptop.“YoureallywanttogotoScotland?”Iask,stillindenialthatthisisreal.
Dakotapullsawayandwipesathereyes.“Ireallyneedthis,Bonnie,andIthinkyoudotoo.Let’sgetyououtofthisrutyou’relivinginandfindjoyintheHighlands.Thisisourchancetoreset,dosomethingdifferent,andjustlivefreelyforafewmonths.”
“Soyou’redeadserious?YouwanttomovetoScotlandforsixmonthsandrunacoffeeshop,eventhoughweknownothingaboutcoffee.”
Shenudgesmeplayfully.“Youknowcoffee—you’vebeenretrievingitforthepastthreeyears.Plus,youlearnedhowtoworkthatoneespressomachinewhenyouworkedforLisa.Youweremakingallsortsofdrinksbytheend.”
“Andgettingacoffeeorderwrongwastheexcusesheusedtofireme.”
Yeah,gotacoffeeorderwrong.Itwasembarrassing,tosaytheleast.ButDaloriaDay—America’ssweetheart—waslookingforareasontofireme.Wedidn’tgetalong.
Shewavesherhandatme.“Semantics.”Sheshakesmyarm.“Comeon.Accommodationsareset,jobsecurityforsixmonths,andthepromiseofadventure.Tellmeyou’rein.”
Damnthosebigblueeyesstaringbackatme.
Iwanttodothisforher,but.?.?.there’saninchoffeartryingtotakeupspaceinthebackofmymind.
ImovedtoLosAngeles,andIstillhaven’tfoundmyself.
AndnowIcouldmovetoScotland.?.?.tofindmyself.Howcouldthatpossiblybeanydifferent?Thisisjustonemoreriskthatprobablywon’tpayoff.Iwantednothingmorethantoprovemyparentswrong,andtoprovethefiveuniversitiesIappliedtomysenioryearinhighschoolwrongtoo.IwantedtoshowthemallthatI’mworthy,thatIhavepotential.ButallI’vedoneisprovetotheworldthatI’mdispensable.
WillitbethesameinScotland?
IglanceatDakotaasshequietlymouths,“Please.”
Damnit.
Damnitalltohell.
Wemightnotevenbepicked—there’snoguarantee.
Smiling,Isay,“I’min.”
Andthat’showIendedupinScotlandforsixmonths.Funstory,huh?
Well,thanksforstoppingby,hope—
What’sthat?
*Leansin*
WhataboutthehotScot?
AndtheCastrationStone?
AndthisFergusfellow?
Imean,ifyoureallywanttoknow,thenIguessIcantelltherestofthestory.Butprepareyourhearts,becausethisisonehellofanadventure.CHAPTERTWO
BONNIE
Cakeconsumedtoday:None,andfrankly,Idon’tthinkIcanfunctionproperly.
Joboffersaccepted:One,andIhavelittletonoexperienceforit.
Dayssincelastmale-inducedorgasm:Seventy,andIwipedacobwebfrommyladyareathismorning.
Currentresidence:Scotland,apparently.
Thisiswhattheycallmakingadecisiononawhim.Let’shopeitdoesn’tbitemeinthebutt.
“NowayamIdrivingthat,”Isay,foldingmyarmsovermychest.“Thiswasyourgrandidea—youdriveit.”
Surroundedbystonebuildingsthatlooklikethey’vebeenpluckedstraightfromMaryPoppins,DakotaandIstandinfrontofourrentalcar,fourlargebagsbyoursideandaropeinhand.Carsspeedrightbyus,fillingupInverness’scharming,ifnarrow,citystreets.Thereisn’tatreeinsight,justwall-to-wallcementandstone,butthespectaculararchitectureismakingmymouthwater—andI’veneverthoughttwiceaboutarchitectureuntilthismoment.
Buteventhoughwearesurroundedbymagnificence,itdoesn’tnegatethepredicamentparkedrightinfrontofus.
AMINICooper.
Ourformoftransportation.
Anitty-bittygreenMINICooper.
Suchapetitevehiclenormallywouldn’tbeanissue—they’readorable—butwhenyouhavetocartsixmonths’worthofluggagetwohundredmilesintothemountains,itdoesn’tscream“practical.”
Butdon’tworry.Therentalcompanyprovidedtwinetosecureourbagsontopoftheroof.
Oh,andincaseyouweren’taware,theScotsalsodriveontheothersideoftheroad.?.?.andtheothersideofthecar.
“Please,Bonnie,Icanbarelyholdittogether.”
Mybeautifulbestfriendwhothoughtofthisbrilliantidea—travelingacrosstheworldtosellcoffeetostrangers—forgotoneminordetail:shesuffersfromhorriblemotionsickness.ShespentourentireflightwithherheadinabagwhileIrubbedherbackandprayedtoJesusshewouldn’tthrowuponmyleg.
“Can’twecallanUberorsomething?”Iask.
“No,thisisthecarFinellaandStuartarrangedforus.Plus,Idon’tthinkUbersdriveouttoCorsekelly.Thetownisreallysmall.”
“Dakota,thatisaclowncar.”Ipointtoit.“Andyouexpectmetodriveitthroughtwisty,windyroadswithtwohundredpoundsofluggagewhilenavigatingtheoppositesideoftheroad?”
“You’reneveronetobackawayfromachallenge.”Shetriestosmile,butit’spained.“They’reexpectingusinafewhours.”
Isighandmovearoundthecar.“Thehospitablethingtodowouldhavebeentopickusup.”Ifolddownthebackseatsandshoveasuitcaseintherear.Iliftupanothersuitcaseandshovethatoneinaswell.WhenIrealizethat’sallthat’sgoingtofit,alightsweatbreaksoutoverthebackofmyneck.Ohshit.IturntoDakota.“Uh,sonowwehavetousetherope?”
Sheglancesdownatthethickwovencableinherhand.“I’mthinking.?.?.maybe?”
“Fine,Idon’tcare.Let’sjustgetthemloadedup.”
Together,weliftthefirstsuitcaseuptopandthenthesecond.Howoneartharewegoingto—?
“Awright,lasses,daeyi’llneedsomehulp?”adeepvoicesaysfrombehindme
Ehhh.?.?.what?
Ispinaroundtofindatallmanwithbright-redhairontopofhisheadandframinghisfacefromeartochin.He’swearingacharmingsmileandatemptingkilt.WhatIwouldn’tgiveforatouchofMarilynMonroewindrightaboutnow.
“Umm.?.?.I’msorry,Ididn’tquiteunderstandyou.”
“Och,y’erAmerican.Dinnafashyirsel,y’eringuidhauns.”
*Blinks*
*Mentallycleansoutears*
*Blinksagain*
“YoutoldmetheyspeakEnglishhere,”IhissatDakota.
“Theydo.”ShelooksasstiffasIdo.
Snaggingtheropefrommyhand,therentalcarguymovesaroundthecarlikeaninja,strappingdownthesuitcasesandsecuringthembetterthanIevercouldhave.IfIdidit,DakotawouldhavetospendherfirstweekinScotlandnude.
Dustingoffhishands,hesurveyshisworkandthenturnstous.“Thatshuiddaeit.Whauryeafftae?”
OhGod,Ican’tunderstandadamnthinghe’ssaying.Iwanttosayhe’sspeakingEnglish.Icanrecognizesomewords.They’reinthere,andhe’sactinglikeweshouldknowwhathe’ssaying,butit’snottranslating.
Sweatcreepsupmyneck.
Thecornersofmylipsflattenout,andIwince.“I’msorry.Littlejet-lagged.Uh,canyourepeatthat?”
Hechucklesandplantshishandsonhishipsasherocksbackonhisheels.Atleasthe’sajollyman.“Where.Ya.Aff.Tae.”
Afftae.
Afftae.
Off.?.?.tae.
OFFTO!
Goodgrief.
“Whereareweoffto?”Inearlyshout,feelinglikeIjustansweredaJeopardy!questioncorrectly.
Whatis,“Idon’tunderstandadamnthingthismanissaying,”Alex.
“Aye.”Henods.
Okay,totallyknowwhat“aye”means.Man,we’reonarollnow.
“Corsekelly,”Isay.
“Och.Afftaeseeth’BoabyStane?”
Theregoesourstreak.
“BoabyStane?”Iask.
“Aye,Boaby.”Hetapshiscrotchandthenpelvicthrustsatus.“Boaby.”
“Boaby?”
“Aye.”
Tap.Thrust.
Boaby.?.?.Boaby.?.?.uh,drawingablank.
“Yaknow.Boaby.”Tap.Thrust.“Boaby.”Tap.Thrust.
DearJesus,whatishappening?
IclutchDakota’sarm.“He’shittinghiscrotch.Isheaskingforpayment?”
“Boaby,”hesaysslowlyandthenscratchesthebackofhishead.“Err,Americanssay‘penis.’”
Boabyisapenis?
Soheislookingforcarnalcash.GoodGod,that’sbold.
Ineedtogetusoutofthissituation,andfast.“Yes,sir.Weareawareyouhaveapenis,”Iblurt.“I’msureit’squitesturdy,givenyourabilitytostrapsuitcasestoaroof,butifyou’relookingforpayment,I’msorrytosaywe’rebothlesbians.Lovers,actually.Thisismylover.”IgripDakotaeventighter.“Wewouldbeterribleatanythingyou’reinterestedin.Fumblyhandsandterriblemouthdiameter.”
Hewipesahanddownhisface.“Penis.?.?.Stone,”heenunciates,tryingveryhard.
Well,thereyouhaveit,folks:he’stryingtocommunicatethathe’scurrentlyerect.
Hispenisishardasstone.Thatdoesn’tmakethingsuncomfortableatall.
“MyGod,”IwhispertoDakota.“Theyareforwardhere.”Turningbacktohim,Isay,“Congratulationsonyourerection,sir.Quiteafeattoaccomplishinthemiddleofacity.”Igivehimasolidfistshake.Solidarity.“Keepupthegoodwork—”
“TheCastrationStone.”Dakotahasspokenup.?.?.finally,despitebeinghunchedoverandcompletelyoutofit,thankstotheflight.“He’snotboningout—he’stalkingabouttheCastrationStone.”
“Aye.”HewinksatDakota.
Okay,nowI’mreallylost.
“I’llexplaininthecar.”Shestraightensupbutstilllookslikeshemightpuke.“WegotajobatthecoffeeshopinCorsekelly,”sheexplainstoourknightinwoolytartan.
“That’syetwalasses?Ahsawth’advert,yaknow.”Hechuckles.“Needdirections?”
“Directions.”Now,thatIunderstood.
“Maybeyoucouldwritethemdown?”Iask.Prettysurethereshouldn’tbeaproblemwithEnglishonpaper.
“Sure.”Hechucklessomemore.
Ireachintomybackpackandhandhimmynotebookandapen.
Ashewrites,hesays,“Cannyoanth’roads.They’rewee’erere.”
Wee-er.*Giggles*
Hehandsmethepaper.“Juistfollowth’A82taeA887.FollowsignstoLochDuich.”Hewinks.“Guidluck.”
“Didyoucatchthat?”IaskDakota.
“Hopingyoudid.”
“’Tisonth’paper.”Heguidesustothecarandopensthedoorsforus.Whenheclosesthem,hehandsustheendsoftherope.“Haudoanticht.”Onemorewink,andthenhetakesoff.
Withonehandclutchingtheropethattiedthesuitcasesandtheotherholdingthedirections,IlookoveratDakota.“Uh,isthisropenotsecure?”
Sheglancesattheropeinherhandaswell.“Lookslikeit’snot.”
“Well,thisshouldbefun.”
“OhmyGod,thecarsaregoingtohitme!”IscreamasIdrivedowntheroad,onehandonthewheel,theotherwrappedinadeathgriparoundourtrustyrope.
“Stayinyourlaneandtheywon’t.”Whatlane?ThestreetsinInvernessaretiny.Thepaintedlinesarefaded,somearezigzagged,andthestonebuildingsarepracticallyontopofus,offeringnovisibility.
Theymaybepretty,butgoodGod,theydonothingtohelpthedrivingexperience
“They’recomingforme.TheyknowIdon’tbelonghere.”
“Justfocus!”Dakotascreams,clutchingthedashboardwithonehand,theropewiththeother.
“Iamfocusing!”Iscreambackasacarzoomspastusfromtheotherside.“We’regoingtodie!”
“Whatinthefreshhelldoesthatsay?”Iask,hangingmyheadoutthewindowasItrytoreadastreetsign.Stillstuckinthecity.
Stillbeingattackedbyoncomingtraffic.
Stilltryingtofigureoutwhytherearenotrees!
“Forsomeonewho’sworriedaboutgettinghit,youshouldbemoreconcernedaboutkeepingyourheadinthecar,”Dakotasays,hervoicefulloffear.
“Ican’tsee—thiswindshieldissosmall.”
“Turnright.GoogleMapsissayingturnright.”
“IthinkIneedtoturnleft.”
“I’mtellingyoutoturnright.”
“AndIthinkyou’rewrong.?.?.”
“Stopstaringatme.ItoldyouIwassorry,”Isay,feelingtheheatofDakota’speevedgaze.
“Areyoulisteningnow?”Dakotaasks,stillpalefromthetenminuteswespentonthesideoftheroadsoshecouldthrowup.Myleftturnresultedinaratherscarydownhillroadthatbroughtusfacetofacewithanoncomingtourbus.
“Listening.”Igiveheracharmingsmile.
“Stayonthisroad,anddonotturnunlessItellyou.”
“Aye,aye,Captain,”IanswerwithasmilethatdoesnothingtohelpthegreentingeinDakota’scheeks.
Pleasedon’tletherthrowupinthecar.
“We’reGOINGTODIE!”Iscreamforwhatseemslikethetenthtimeaswemergeintotheinnercircleofaroundabout.
“AHHH!”Dakotaflails,holdingontotheropeaswecornerontwowheels.
(Notreally,butthat’swhatitfeelslike.)
“MotherofJesus,whathellishlabyrintharewein?”Iyelloutthewindowasanothercarpassesus.
“We’recirclingthedevil’steat,”Dakotawhimpers.“That’swhatwe’redoing.”
“WedriveinLosAngeles,forfuck’ssake.Wecandothis.”
“Theropeisslipping!”Dakotacallsout.
“FortheloveofGod,don’tletgo.Hangtight,Dakota.Wecandothis.”Onascream,Iturnonmyblinkerandhopeforthebest.
Tenminuteslater.?.?.
“Letmeknowwhenyou’reready,”Isay,grippingbothropeswhileDakotaheavesoutthesideofthecar.“Roundaboutsweremadetodestroytheheartsoftourists.”Iglareupatthecloudygraysky.“Iseeyou,Scotland.Iseeyourwitchyways.”
“So.?.?.”Ibreakthroughthesilencethat’sfallenoverourcaraswepeacefullymakeourwaydownthewindingbackroadsofScotland.Thesceneryhasbecomeincreasinglygreen—foundthosetrees—andinsteadoftroublesomebuildingstonavigatethrough,we’redelightedwiththetumblingmountainswiththeoccasionalsheepdottingthemeadows.“Thatwasfun.”
“Whywereyouhonkingsomuch?”Dakotaasks,weakandmostlikelydehydrated.
“Itfeltlikeitwasmyonlydefensemechanism.”
“I’veneverseenyourjawunhingelikethatbefore.”Shestaresblanklyoutthewindshield.“Theswearwordsyousaid.Very.?.?.colorful.”
“Seemslikeroundaboutsbringoutthetruckerinme.”Iclearmythroat,feelinghoarsefromthebanshee-likescreamingIdidwhiletryingtocutacrossthethree-lanedeathtrap.
“Idon’tthinkIcaneverunseewhathappenedbackthere.”
“That’sfair,”Isayquietly.“Iunderstand.ThatwasasideofmeIdon’tthinkanyonewasexpectingtosee,myselfincluded.But,hell,wedidit.WearetakingScotlandbythewhiskyandlochs.”
“Thatdoesn’tmakesense,”Dakotasays,staringoutatthestunningnatureandruggedmountains.Darkshadowsfromtheloomingcloudsaboveaddamythicalfeelyoucan’tfindinsmoggyCalifornia.
“Itdoes—youknow,like‘takingthebullbythehorns,’but.?.?.forgetit.So,aboutthatwholePenisStonething.Ithoughthewasaskingfor.?.?.paymentbytappinghiscrotchlikethat.”
“TheScotsaren’tNeanderthals,Bonnie.TheyspeakEnglish.”
“ThatwasnotEnglishbackthere.”
“Somepeoplehavethickeraccentsthanothers.WhenIspoketoFinellaonthephoneyesterday,shehadaveryprettyaccent,easytounderstand.Ihadnoproblemspeakingwithher.”
“Well,that’sarelief.WasshetheonewhotoldyouaboutthePenisStone?”
“No,IreadaboutitwhenIwasresearchingCorsekelly.”ThegreenshadethatoncewasDakota’sfacehasnowdimmedtoanormalskincolor,thankfully.“Apparentlythat’swhatthetownisknownfor.Thatandagoat.”
“Oh-kay.WanttoelaborateonthePenisStone?”
“YouknowtheshowIronCrowns?”
“Theonewithalltheincestandrape?”Iask.
“Yeah,theoneyoucouldn’tstomachanymore,soweswitchedovertowatchingJanetheVirgin.”
“IwouldmarryRojelioinaheartbeat.GivemesomeofthatLatinlove.”
“EvenIwouldconsidermarryingRojelio.”Dakotachuckles.
“It’stheRojeliogiftbaskets,isn’tit?”
Sheclutchesherheartwithherfreehand.“Heputssomuchthoughtintothem.Anyway,IronCrownsmadeTVhistorywhentheyhadtheSerpentQueen—”
“Ugh,shewascreepy.I’mallforwomen’sempowerment—ownthatcrown,baby—butthenshe’dflickherserpenttongueoutatpeople,anditjustdidn’tsitrightwithme.”
“Andcastratehersoon-to-bebetrothed.”
“Wait.?.?.what?”
“Listeningnow?”Inod.“Apparentlyhecheatedonherwithachambermaid,andtomakesurehelearnedhislesson,theSerpentQueentookhimtothiscavethathasaflatstoneslabinthemiddleofit.Shehadhimpinneddown,withhiswillyout,andthen.?.?.poof,theboabywasgone.”
Ichuckle.“Oh,Iseewhatyoudidthere,andIlikeit.‘Boaby.’DoyouthinkScottishgirlsticklethetipandtalktotheboabylikeit’sananimal?‘Who’sbeenagoodboabytoday?Youhave,yes,youhave.’”
“Whyareyouthewayyouare?”
“Can’tbesure.”Webothlaugh.“So,PenisStone,huh?Fascinating.Ournewhomeisfamousforacastrationrock.I’mkindofdiggingit.IronCrownswasfilmedinScotland,then?”
“Allover.IsawthatCorsekellyhasaplaqueintowndedicatedtothePenisStone.”
“I’dbeshockediftheydidn’t.”Igripthesteeringwheelalittletighter.“MyInstagramisabouttobelit.”CHAPTERTHREE
BONNIE
Roundaboutsstuckin:One.?.?.fortenminutes.
NumberoftimesDakotahasthrownup:Notenoughfingerstocount.
NumberofScotsmaninteractions:One,andI’mstilltryingtofigureoutwhathewastryingtosaytous.
IfaScotsmantapshiscrotch,hemightjustbetryingtotellyouthatboabymeans“penis,”notthathewantssexualpaymentforhiskindfavor.
WELCOMETOCORSEKELLY—HOMEOFFERGUS
RESIDENCEOFTHEGREATBOABYSTONE
POPULATION360
“Whatasign,”IsayaswehopbackintothecaraftertakingapictureinfrontofCorsekelly’ssign,whichisratherlargeforsuchasmalltown.“‘BoabyStone’hasamuchbetterringtoitthan‘PenisStone.’Almostsoundslikeit’saluckyrockorsomething,andifyourubyourcheekonit,you’llbegrantedgoodluckforyearstocome.”
“You’rereferringtotheBlarneyStone,andthat’sifyoukissit,”Dakotasays,bucklingupandholdingontotherope,whichhasnowpermanentlyindentedourpalms.“Ifyoukissedthisstone,youmightgetherpes.”
“What,doyouthinkpeopleactuallyputtheirpenisesonit?”
“Uh.?.?.yeah.Therearepicturesallovertheinternetofpeopleinthecave,reenactingthescenewiththeirwives,boabyoutandeverything.”
“Ew,whowantstoseethat?”
Dakotashrugs.“IronCrownshasthelargestfanbaseintheworld.Peopledocrazythings.”
“Yeah,buttoactlikeyourpenisisgoingtobechoppedoff,youhavetohavesomeserioustrustinyourwife,andyou’dbettermakesurenottopissheroffbeforethephotoopportunity.One‘oops’momentandyourding-a-lingisgoneforever.”
Istartupthecarandpullontothenarrowpavedroadthattakesuspastslate-coveredcliffsanddownintothevalleyofCorsekelly.
OhmyGod.
Thetreesliningtheroadpart,andwearegreetedbyavastexpanseofglitteringwater,framedbygorgeousmountains,dustedingreen,andsprinkledwithlargeslatestones.It’spositivelygorgeoushere.
Anewchapterrestsrightinfrontofus.
Newopportunities.
Newpeople—hopefullynicepeople.
Newadventures.
Icanfeelitalready:thechangeI’mmaking,theconfidencethisdecisionisinstillinginme.Thisverywellmightbeexactlywhatwebothneed.
“There’sthetown,”Dakotasays,pointingtoasmatteringofwhiteclaybuildings.
“Andwhere’stherestofit?”Iaskasweapproach.
“That’sit.It’sreallysmall.”
Idon’tthinkI’veeverseenatownthissmall.Nomorethantwentybuildingsborderthetown’smainthoroughfare,whichrunsalongthelakeshoreandisaptlynamedCorsekellyLane.
AllfacingouttowardLochDuich,thebuildingsareconstructedofwhiteclay,decoratedwithrockwalls,andenhancedbycolorfuldisplaysofseasonalflowershangingfromcast-ironplanthooks.ComparedtothehousesinAmerica,theyaren’tgrandbyanymeans,andthewindowsanddoorslookfartoosmallforanadult,butthey’recharming,picturesque,andmakemefeellikeI’vejustenteredafantasy.
Compactandcharismatic.
“Youknow,thetownfeelsmorelikeapitstopratherthanaplacetolive,”IsaytoDakota,who’sbusystaringoutthewindow,takinginCorsekellyjustasmuchasIam.
“Butthereisnothingtouristyaboutitbesidesthattourbusparkedinfrontof.?.?.Ithinkthat’sahotel.That’skindofnice.Itwillfeellikewe’retuckedaway.”
“True.”Inod.“AndIlovethewoodensignshangingaboveeverydoor.”Drivingextraslow,Ireadthemoutloud.“FERGIE’SCASTLETHEADMIRALUNDERTHEGOAT’SKILTINN—betthatdoesn’tsmellverygood.”Webothlaugh,andIsteerusdownthestone-pavedroad.“THEMILLMARKET,BUBBLESLINENBASKET,PARLAN’SPUMPPETROL,MURDACH’SWEEBAKESHOP,COFFEE.?.?.wait,coffee?Isthat.?.?.that‘coffeehouse’?”Iask,grimacingaswedrawevenwithalacklusterbuilding.
Framedinwhiteclayliketherestofthetown,itsonlydistinguishingfeaturesareareddoorandasignaboveitthatspellsoutCOFFEE.Twoweatheredpicnictablesrestundereachred-framedwindow,butthat’sasfarasthecharmgoes.
Uh,weleftLosAngelesforthis?
Itlookslikethedoorisonegustofwindawayfrombeingtornoffitshinges.
Where’sthecharm?
Where’sthecutewoodensign?
Where’stheplaid?Shouldn’ttherebeplaidsomewhere?
Forheaven’ssake,whereistheplaid?
“Yes,itis,”Dakotasays,notevenfazed.
“Wow,theysureknowhowtoadvertisetheirwares.”Ichuckle.“Where’sthecutename?”
“They’redirect.Thathastobeadmired.Finellasaidthere’sparkingaroundthecorner,wherewe’llbestaying.”
“Okay.”Iroundthecornerandfollowagraveldrivewaythattakesusunderacanopyoftrees.“Arewegoingtherightway?”Iaskastheroadgetstighterandtighter.
“Ithinkso.Shesaidthecottageisjustpastthetrees.”
Drivingnomorethantenmilesperhour,webumpalongtheroadandfinallyreachatinywhiteclaycottagewithathatchedroof.
“Umm,didwejustdriveintoaDisneymovieandIdidn’tnotice?”Iask.
Athatchedroof.?.?.alegit,real,thatchedroof.IthinkthelasttimeIsawoneofthosewasinSnowWhiteandtheSevenDwarfs
And.?.?.isthata.?.?.??
“Ohhellno.”Ishakemyhead,pointingtothewellthat’srightnexttothehouse.“Doesthisplacenothaveplumbing?Ididnotsignuptofetchthewaterforthebath.”
“Ithasalltheamenitiesweneed,”Dakotasays,openinghercardoor.
Igripherarmandkeepherinplace.“Whenyousay‘amenities,’doesthatincluderunningwater?”
“Yes,”shesays,exasperated.“YouactlikeourplanewasatimemachineandIbroughtyoubacktotheMiddleAges.”
“SorryifI’mstartledbyathatchedroofandawell,butthat’salegitconcern.Didyouseethegasstationbackthere?I’mnotsureitevenworks.”
“It’scalledapetrolpump,anditworks.Thisisn’tLA,Bonnie,somethingyoushouldkeepinmind.Thisisasimplerwayofliving.Relaxandenjoytheslowerpace.”
She’sright.Beforemakingassumptions,Ishouldreallygettoknowtheplacefirst.
I’mhereforadventure.
I’mheretofigureoutwhatIwanttodowithmylife.
Andmakingprejudgmentsisnotgoingtodomeanygood.
“You’reright.I’msorry.”Iletoutadeepbreath.“Theroadtripwaslong,andmyhandissorefromholdingtherope.Ipromiseoncewegetsomefood,I’llbemuchbetter.”
Justasweexitthecar,thefrontdoortothecottageopens,andashortladywholookstobeinhersixtiesstepsout.Shehasdark-brownhair,pepperedwithsilverstreaks,andanaproncinchedaroundherwaist.
“YoumustbeDakota,”shesays,walkingoverwithawelcomingsmile.
Dakotawasright—averyprettyaccent,andoneIcaneasilyunderstand.
ThankGod.
“Finella,it’ssogreattofinallymeetyou.”Dakotahugsthewomanandthenbeckonsmeover.“Thisismybestfriend,Bonnie.”
“Aye,Bonnie,’tisabeautifulname.Means‘pretty’hereinScotland,anditseemstofityouperfectly.”Shelooksmeupanddownwithakindsmile.
“Oh,thankyou.I’vebeentoldI’mone-sixteenthScottish.”Ismile.
“Isthatso?”Sheraisesaneyebrow.“Howlovely.”
Ifeelasurgeofpridetobestandinginthelandsofmyancestors.“It’sgoodtobehome,wheremyancestorsoncewalked.Icantrulyfeeltheirpresence.”WhenIglanceatFinella,Icatchthesmallestofsmirksonherlips.Okay,sure,I’monlyone-sixteenthScottish,butthatmeanssomething.Itakeinadeepbreath.“It’snicetomeetyou,Finella.Ican’tgetoverhowgreenitishere.Comingfromadryenvironment,it’srefreshingtohavenatureallaroundus.”
“’Tisbeautifulhere.”Sherestsherhandsonherhips,awrysmiletuggingonherlips.“We’llmissit,butwe’reexcitedtogoonamuch-neededholibags.”
Holibags?
Whatthehelldoesthatmean?
“Come,come,”shesays.“We’lltalkmoreinside.Youtwomustbehungry.I’vefriedupsomehaggisforyouwithsometattiesandneeps.”Shegrabsbothofusbythehandsandguidesusintothecottage.Aswestepinsideournewhome,I’mshockedatjusthowspaciousitis.Offtotherightisastonefireplaceandwood-framedhearthwithacast-ironstoveinthemiddle.Tworedcouchessitoneithersideofthewhite-walledroom,facingeachother,withanoakcoffeetableinthemiddle.
Totheleftisatinykitchenetteequippedwithatwo-burnerstove,minifridge,andsink.Minimalcabinets,andinsteadofdoorsunderthesink,thenookisblockedoffwithawhite-and-red-checkeredcurtain.Okay,that’skindofadorable.Tothebackisanopendoorleadingtoanarrowsetofstairs.Nopicturesadornthewalls,andtherearenodecorationstospeakof.Therestofthespaceisdominatedbyatwo-persondiningtable,ladenwithdishesoffood.Quaint,butjustenough.
Ahellofastepupfromourone-bedroom,window-barred,cracked-ceilingapartmentinLosAngeles,that’sfordamnsure.
“Hopeyouenjoythespace,”Finellasays,pridepuffingherchest.
“It’slovely,”Isay.
“Perfect,”Dakotaadds.
“Now,there’sonebedroomonthegroundfloorandoneupstairs.Bathroomaroundthecorner.Wekeepabucketnexttothetoilet,andifyougonumbertwo,weaskthatyouusethebuckettohelpflushitdown.”
IglanceatDakota,whoseeyeswidenwithhumor.Iholdbackmysnicker,notwantingtoberude.Butcomeon.?.?.atoiletbucket?
Yup.?.?.lovely
“Thefridgehassomefoodinit,”Finellacontinues.“Nottoosurewhatyagirlslike,butithasthebasics.TheMillMarketisdownthestreet.Shonaknowsyou’recoming,soshecanhelpshowyouaroundandorderyouanythingyoumightneed.”
“Shonaistheowner?”Iask.
“Aye.”Finellasitsusbothdownatthetableandladlesoutfood.Ballsoffriedsomethingthatmustbethehaggis—whateverthatis—andtwomashed-up-lookingthings.Thetattiesandneeps,Isuppose.“EveryoneinCorsekellyknowsyou’recoming.Thetownisquitewelcomingtonewcomers,andthey’vealreadypromisedmeandStuartthey’lltakegoodcareofyouwhilewe’regone.”
“Thankyou,”Dakotasays,pickingupaforkanddiggingrightin.Ipickupmyforkaswellbutwaitforhertotastethefoodfirst.Whenshedoesn’tseemtobalk,Igivemyselfthegreenlighttoeatup.“Thisisdelicious,Finella.”Thetattiesandneepsaremashedwithahintofnutmegflavoring.Interestingbutdelightful.Andthehaggishasanoatytexturewithahintofpepperandacrumblysausagefeel.
IthinkIcangetusedtothis.
“Thankye.’Tisanoldfamilyrecipe.MyRowan’sfavorite.”
Rowan.Isthatsomeone’sname?
“Youwon’tseemuchofhim,”Finellacontinues.“Quitebusybeingthehandymanaroundtown.”
Soitissomeone’sname.
“IsRowanyourson?”Iask.
“Aye,heis.Strappinglad,thoughatadgrumpy,andkeepstohimself.Hedoesfancyhimselfablonde,though.Especiallyabonnyone.”Shewigglesherbrows,andIfeelmyfaceflush.
“Hearthat,Bonnie?Strapping,”Dakotasayswithasmile.
“Areeitherofyaattached?”Finellaasks.
“Bothsingle,”Dakotaanswers.
“Isthatso.”Shesmileswidely.
“I’mnotreadytodate,though,”Dakotaquicklysays.“Ihadabadbreakupwithmygirlfriendaboutayearago.Stillnursingthosewounds.”
“Och,yafancythelasses?YoushouldmeetIslaMurdach—sherunsMurdach’sWeeBakeshop.I’dthinkshe’dtakekindlytoyou.”
Nowit’sDakota’sturntoblush.Inudgeherunderthetablewithmyfoot.“Hearthat?She’dfancyyou.”
“Notlookingforarelationship,”shesays.
“Meneither,”Isayquickly.WhoknowswhothisRowanguyis—I’malmostcertainIdon’twantanythingtodowithhim.Thewholegrumpythingdoesn’tworkforme.
“SowhatbringsyoutotheHighlands,then?Onyourapplication,yousaidadventure.”Finellastudiesusboth.“ButIseedarknessinyourprettyeyes.There’smoretoit.”
“Abreak,”Dakotaconfesses.“Abreakfromitall.”AndIknowexactlywhatshemeans.Sheneedsabreakfromthememories,fromthechanceofrunningintoherex.Sheneedstoclearherhead.
Justlikeme.
“Amomenttobreathe,”Isay.“TofigureoutwhatI’mdoingwithmylife.”
Finellasmilesandclaspsherhandstogether.“ThenCorsekellyistheperfectplaceforthebothofyou.”
GravelcrunchesunderourshoesasDakotaandIfollowFinelladownthetree-linedlanetothecoffeehouse.Alightsprinkleofrainstartsup,andIpullupthehoodofmysweatshirt.
“Nay,nottoworryabouttherain,lass,”Finellasays.“It’sagivenhereinScotland.Embraceit.”
Well,ifthat’sthecase,Ilowermyhoodandletthedropletsofwaterscatterovermyheadandface.IfI’mgoingtobehereforsixmonths,thenIreallyshouldlivelikethelocals.
“Heresheis,”Finellasaysasweroundthebendandapproachthecoffeeshop.“Shemightnotbeprettyontheoutside,butshe’swarmontheinside.”Sheopensthedoor,andtomysurprise,theshopiscompletelyempty—nooneworking,notasinglesoulinthebuilding.
Evenmoreshocking:theplaceispracticallybarren.
Twotables,eachwithtwochairs,sithaphazardlyinthemiddleoftheroom,lookingliketheywerecarvedbyaten-year-old.Nothingdecoratesthewalls,andtheoldwoodenfloorsarecoatedindirtandgoo.Totheleftisanemptypastrycase,andbehindthecounteraretwocoffeethermoses.
Noespressomachine.
Nofancymenu.
Just.?.?.coffee.
Umm.?.?.
“Weopenattenandcloseatfour.”
“Youopenatten?”HowonearthdotheyopenattenwhenIwasorderedtogetcoffeeatsixinthemorning?
“Aye,notmuchactivityintheareauntilten.Mostbusinessesaroundhereopenatnineandclosenolaterthansix,besidesFergie’sCastle,thepub.TheAdmiral,ourlocaleatery,willcloseatsixontheweekdaysandsevenontheweekends,soifyou’recraving—whatdoyouAmericanscallit,‘dinner’?—besuretoplanahead.Fergie’swillhavesomegenericpubfood,butitcangetrowdyoncethetownshutsdownandeveryonegathersforawhisky.”
“Wow,okay.Goodtoknow,”Isay,justasmystomachdoesaweirdsomersaultatthementionoffood.Oof.Thatdidn’tfeelgood.
“We’reclosedonSundays—almostthewholetownis.Thetourbusesdon’tdrivethroughhereonSundays,sowealltakethedayoff,besidesthepub.Hamishalwayshasthepubopen.”
“Tourbusescomethroughhere?”IaskasDakotawalksaroundthesmallspace,armscrossed,surveyingournewjob.There’snodoubtshe’llbeabletokeepupwithhergraphicdesignworkwhilewe’rehere.Fromthelooksofthetwocoffeethermoses,itseemslikeImighthavesomesparetimeonmyhandsaswell.
“Aye.FortheBoabyStone.Wearequiteproudofit,actually.ShonadownatthemarketscreenprintsBoabyStoneT-shirts.‘IkissedtheBoabyStone,’theysay.Quiteclever.StuartandIhaveamatchingset.”
Yeah,I’mgoingtoneedoneofthose.“Iloveagoodpenisshirt.”Dakotaelbowsmeintheside.Iglanceatherandshrug.“What?Ido.”
“HaveyouwatchedIronCrowns?”Finellaasks.
I’mabouttoanswerwhenmyintestinesgurgle.Aninstantsweatbreaksoutonthebackofmyneck.
Uh,thatdoesn’tfeelright.
Notatall.
Wemighthaveasituationbrewing.
“Ihave,”Dakotasays.“Haven’tgottentotheBoabyStonepartyet.Can’twaitforit.”
“Thrilling.Theyshowhisactualboaby,yaknow.Theactordidn’thaveastand-in.SirRichardMacLainisquiteendowed,Imustsay.Suchashametheypretendedtocastratehim.”Finellasighsandgoestothecounter.“Reallysimplehere.Darkroastanddecaf.Wealsohavesomehotchocolatepacketsifthekidswantany.Wehaven’thadfoodhereinawhile.Stuartusedtobake,buthe’ssloweddownabit.”Finellagrowsquietjustasmygutchurns,thesounddeafeninginthesmallcoffeeshop.
BothDakotaandFinellaturntome,browsraised.
Ismileuncomfortably.“Youknow,Idon’tthinksomethingissettlingright.”
“Don’tsoundlikeit.”Finellaeyesmeupanddown.“Areyaallergictosheeplungs?”
“Uh.?.?.notthatIknowof.”
“Heart?Liver?Stomach?”
“No.?.?.why?”Iswallowhard,fearitchingupthebackofmyneck.
“Och,that’shaggis,lass.”
Bilerisesinmythroat,andIprayIdon’tloseitallrighthere,inthemiddleofthisdirty,unsweptfloor.
“Sheepstomach?”Iask,quietly.
“Aye,andliver,heart,andlungs.Quitegood.”
OhGOD
Smilingpolitely,Itakeastepback.“Youknow,IthinkI’mgoingtoheadbacktothecottageand,um—”IburpandIpraytotheholyheavensIcankeepittogether.“I’mgoingtogotakeashower.Washtheairplaneoff.”
Finellaseesrightthroughme.
“Aye,remembertousethewaterbucket.”Shegivesmeawink.
“Dakota,learntheropes,”Isay,waftingmyfingeraroundtheroombeforetakingoffatabriskpowerwalktothecottage.
“Askwhat’sinitbeforeyoueatitfromnowon,”Isaytomyselfinthemirror.
I’llspareyouthedetails.Let’sjustsayI’vemademymarkhereinScotland
Jet-lagged,freshlyshowered,andreadyforapillow,Ibrushoutmylongblondehairandrunsomewaveserumthroughthestrandstocapturemynaturalcurl.Afterbrushingmyteeth—twice—I’vewrappedtheplainwhitetowelprovidedinthebathroomaroundmychestandhavetakenadeepbreathjustasthefrontdooropensandcloses.
Dakota.
She’sinbigtrouble.
She’stheonewhodidalltheresearch—sheshouldhavewarnedmeaboutthehaggis.
WithwhatlittlefightIhaveleftinme,Itossthebathroomdooropenandstompintothekitchen,onlytofindatoweringmanleaningagainstthesink,eatingoneofthehaggisballs.
“OhmyGod!”Ishout,securingmytoweleventighteraroundmytorso.Fromthecornerofmyeye,Ispotabroomandsnatchitup,pointingthebrushendathim.“Don’tyoudarecomeanycloser.”
He’sunfazed.
Stillleaningagainstthecounter,haggisballinhand,hestaresmedown.“Whothehellareyou?”
Well,kickmeinthecrotchandlaymedowntorest.HehastohavethemostdeliciousvoiceI’veeverheard.
Fulloftimbre,withrollingr’sandaheavydoseofmasculinity.It’soddtosay,buthisvoicebasicallysays,Iworkwithmyhandsandknowhowtousethemaswell
I’mtemptedtorestmyheadagainsthischestandaskhimtospeak,justsoIcanfeeltherumbleofhisvoiceovermybody,butrealizethat’stheexhaustiontalking.
IsnapmyselfoutofmyScot-induceddaydreamandholdupthebroom.“That’snoneofyourconcern.You’retrespassing.Ifyoudon’tleaveinthreeseconds,I’mcallingFinella.”
“Aye,whenyoudo,tellherthehaggisisdry.”Hepopstherestofhisballinhismouthandchews.Nosmile,nohumorinhisface,justoverallsurliness.
“That’sawfullyrude.”
“’Tisthetruth.”Hedustsoffhishands.“Youatourist?”
“LikeIsaid,that’snoneofyourconcern.IsuggestyouleavebeforeIputthisbroomtogooduse.”
“Yagoingtosweepmeaway?I’dliketoseeyatrywiththosescrawnyarms.”
Well,isn’theterriblyunpleasant.
“Don’tbetooquicktojudge.Ipackaheavypunch.Icouldblowyourightoutofyourshoes.”Iraisemyfistintheair,butIquicklyretractitwhenInoticeit’sshakingslightly.
Imayacttough,butIalsoknowwhenI’mbeateninsizeandstature.
Thestrangercrosseshisarmsoverhisbrawnychestandstudiesme,hisdevilishgreengazeroamingmybody.Itfeelslikehiseyesareasponge,soakingupeverylastinchofmeuntilI’mcompletelydry.
Uneasyandexposed,thoughneveronetobackdown,Iattempttoprovidehimthesametreatment,butitjustmakesmeweakintheknees.
He’swearingdark-washjeans,cuffedrightabovethetopofhisbrownboots.Thedenimisstretchedtightaroundhisthickthighs,andhisforest-greenT-shirtdoesnothingtohidetheripplingmusclesunderneaththefabric.Nordothesleevesevenattempttodisguisethebouldersinhisbicepsorhissculptedshoulders.Butwhat’sreallycatchingmyeyesistheintricatelywoventattoothatencircleshiswristlikeawatchandtravelsuphisarm,allthewayunderhissleeve.Andthat’sjusthisbody.Hisfaceisawholeotherstory.Thickscrufflineshissquarejaw,andhisbrownhairisbuzzedonthesides,withtheslightestwavetothelongerstrandsontop.HisdeepmossyeyespenetratemebetterthanHarrydidthelasttimewehadsex.
My,my,my.?.?.
“Getyourfill?”heasks,startlingmeoutofmyswoonandrightbackintodefensemode.
“Ishouldaskthesameofyou,”Isay,steppingcloserandbrandishingmybroom.
“NothingIhaven’tseenbefore,”heanswerswithsuchboredominhisvoicethatI’mmildlyinsulted.
“You’rerude,”Isnap.
“Iknow.”
Okay.?.?.well,atleastwe’reonthesamepageaboutthat.?.?.
“ItwouldbehooveyoutoleavethepremisesbeforeIcallthecops.”
“Aye,andwhat’sthephonenumberforthecops?”hechallengeswithatriumphantglintinhiseyes,thoughhislipsremainflat,unaffected.
Irollmytopteethovermylip,mystomachdropping.Ireallydidn’tdoanyresearchbeforeIcamehere—thatwasnotsmartonmyend.
“Uh,911?”
“Eejittourists,”hemumbles,shakinghishead.Hepushesoffthecounter,andhischestmeetsthebristlesofthebroom.“Getdressedandleave.I’msureFinelladoesn’twantyoustayinglongerthanyou’resupposedto.”
“I’msupposedtostayforsixmonths,”Ishootback.
Onebrowcrookstothesky.“What?”
“Sixmonths,”Irepeat,holdingmychesthigh,gladmytowelhasyettoevenloosen.“I’llbestayinghere,inthiscottage,soifyouwouldpleaseleave,thatwouldbe—”
“Whatthehellareyoudoinghereforsixmonths?”
“Whyareyousonosy?”
Hischestpressesdeeperintothebristles.Standtall,Bonnie,don’tlethimintimidateyou.“BecauseFinellaismymaw,andIwanttoknowwhyyou’restayinginhercottage.”
Oh.
My.
God.
ThisisRowan?
Well,Finellawasn’tspinninganyScottishfablesaboutherson.Strappingindeed
Andatadgrumpy.
Ehh.?.?.awholelotgrumpy,fromthewayhiseyebrowssharpenashestaresatme.
“YoumustbeRowan,”Isay,stillkeepingthebroombetweenus.Lessforprotectionandmoreoutofpride—andtoensureIdon’ttrytolickhisbicepsoranything.
Becauseyowser,thosebiceps.
Yup,strapping.?.?.very,verystrapping.
No,doesn’tmatterifhe’s“climbmelikeatree”kindofhot;he’sbeingajerk.Standyourground.
“Andyouare.?.?.”
“Bonnie,”Ianswer.“BonnieSt.?James.I’mone-sixteenthScottish.”
“Aye.”Helooksmeupanddownwithannoyance,eyesblazingacrossmyskin.“Andwhyareyouhereforsixmonths?”
“MybestfriendandIareheretotakecareofthecoffeeshopwhileyourparentsareonvacation.Honestly,don’tyoucommunicatewiththem?Ordoyoujustcriticizeyourmom’scooking?”
Hisbrowliftsbutthenquicklyreturnstoneutralashestepsawayfromthebroomandbringshishandtohisjaw,studyingmesomemore.
Wait.?.?.didhereallynotknowhisparentswereabouttogoonvacation?Itseemsoddtome.Wouldn’tthatbesomethingthey’dtellhim?
“Didn’tyouseetheadvert?”Iask.
“Idid,”heanswerscalmly,almosttoocalmly.“Wasn’tawarethepositionwasfilled.”
“Well,itwas.BymeandDakota.”
“Mm-hmm.”Hegivesmeanotheronce-over,asifsizingmeupforafight.
Ihavemypride,butI’malmostpositiveifheflickedmewithhisthumbandindexfinger,hecouldshootmeallthewaytotheloch,towelflappinginthewindlikeawhitesignalofsurrender.
“Stopthat.”Ipokehimwiththebroom.
Stagnant.Unwavering.Hedoesn’tevenblinkaneye.
“Stopwhat?”
“Checkingmeout.”
“Trustme,lass,ifIwascheckingyouout,you’dknowit.”
God,he’s.?.?.rude.
“IheardScotsmenarequitehospitable—seemsthat’snotthecasewithyou.”
“Neverbeenonetoconform.”
Irritated,Ijabhimwiththebroomagain.“Unlessyouhaveanythingelsetosay,youcanleavenow.”
Runninghishandoverhisjawagain,hestepsawayfromthebroomand,withoutaword,stridesoutofthecottage.Thedoorclicksshutbehindhim.Ilowerthebroomandletoutadeepbreath,catchingthroughthekitchenwindowhistallframewalkingaway.
Well,isn’thewhathistoricalromancesaremadefor?
TheswoonyScot.
HottieintheHighlands.
KillingHeartsinaKilt.
Thankfully,accordingtoFinella,he’snotaroundmuch.
Hopefullythat’stheonlyinteractionI’llhavewithhimforthenextsixmonths,becauseIcouldn’timaginedealingwiththatsurlyattitudeforthedurationofmyvisit.Hewasbrimmingwithnegativity—atleastthat’swhatitfeltlike—andI’monanewpath,asearchforpurpose.Ican’tberiddledwithScottishtempers.
Nope,thisisthestartofsomethingnew,anditwon’tinvolveMr.?RowanMcMuscleMan.CHAPTERFOUR
ROWAN
Idon’twanttodothis.
It’sglaikit.
Youcan’tforceme.
You’vegottobekiddingme.?.?.
Fine.
Run-inwithAmerican:One.
Uncommunicativeparents:Two.
AnnoyingauthormakingmedopointlessshiteIdon’twanttodo:One.
There.?.?.happy?
You’vegottobefuckingkiddingme.
Whenweretheyplanningontellingmetheyfoundpeopletolookoverthecoffeehouse?
Andwhatfor?
Ipushmyhandthroughmyhairandroundthebendwheremyparents’houseistuckedawayupagainstamountain.Whenthewhitestonebuildingcomesintoview,Ithrowmypickupintoparkandstareatit.
Whatthehellweretheythinking?
Hamishdownatthepubwastheonewhoaskedabouttheadvertmyparentssubmittedandtheworldwideattentionithadreceived.TheadvertIhadnoideaabout.Thatwasembarrassingenough,buttonotbetoldthatthey’dactuallyfoundtwolassestotakeoverthecoffeeshop?That’sfuckingridiculous.
Asangersettlesoverme,tensingmyshouldersandneck,Ipushthroughthedooroftheirquainthouse.Atthesoundofmysteps,bothmyparentsstartleontheirblackleathersofainthelivingroom,theirbodiesjostlingagainsteachother.TheiPadtheywereholdingtumblestothefloorwithathud.
“Jesus,Rowan,youstartledus.”Mawpressesonehandtoherheartandonetomyda’sthigh.
Islamthedoorshut.“Whenwereyougoingtotellme?”
“Tellyouwhat?”Mawasks,feigninginnocence,butIknowhersweetwhisky-browneyesconcealsomeseverecalculation.
“ThetwoAmericans.”
“Aye,didyoumeetthem?Bonnieisquitethelooker,isn’tshe?”
“Whenwereyougoingtotellme?”Isay,ignoringher.
Mydalowershisglassesonhisnose,hisusuallystrongbodylookingwitheredunderhistartanshirt.Thepastfewmonthshavebeenalarming,tosaytheleast.TherehasbeenadistinctdecreaseinDa’smusclemass,inhisenergylevelsandfoodconsumption.Foodsthatheusedtolovehebarelytouchesnow.Heevenpassedupsomeempirebiscuitsafewweeksago,whichfirsttippedmeoffthatsomethingmightbegoingon.TheotherdayIaskedMawifDawasokay,andshesaidhewasfine,justeatinghealthy,whichwaswhyhe’dlostsomuchweight.Buthedoesn’tlooklikehe’sjustlostweight—helooksfrail.
“Tomorrow,whenweleave,”hesaysinhisauthoritativevoice.
Igrewupwiththatvoice,constantlychatteringinmyear,moldingmeintothemanhewantedmetobecome,amanhecouldbeproudof.
Strong.
Amanwhotakescareofhishome.
Amanwho’sproudofhisheritageandhisfamilyname.
Andyes,IdotakeprideinwhereI’vecomefrom,myheritageandthefamilyname,butIwantsomuchmorefromthislife.Ineedsomuchmorefromthislife,andIhaven’tbeenabletoconsideranalternateroutefromwhatmydahasplannedforme.
“You’releavingtomorrow?So.?.?.what,youwerejustgoingtopackyourbagsandtakeoffwithbarelyagoodbye?”
“Weweregoingtosaygoodbye,”Mawsays,risingfromthesofaandwalkingovertotheentryway,whereI’mstillstanding,myfeetfeelinglikestone.Shepatsmeonthecheek.“Didyoueat?”
Isshekiddingmerightnow?“Maw,Idon’tevenknowwhyyou’releavinginthefirstplace.You’rebeingsogoddamnsecretive.”
“No,we’renot.We’regoingonholibags.That’sallyouneedtoknow.”
“No,Ineedtoknowwhereyou’regoing.Whatifthere’sanemergency?Areyouevengoingtotakeyourphoneswithyou,orareyougoingtogocompletelyrogue?”
“Don’tbesilly—ofcoursewe’llbringourphones.”Mawmovestothekitchen,whereshestartsfixingmeaplate.
Iturntomyda.“Wasthisyourplan,tokeepitallasecret?”
It’scommonknowledgeintownthatIdon’tnecessarilygetonwellwithmyda.Wehaveourgrievances,ourdifferences,andideasofwhatmyfutureshouldbe.Iwantedtofocusonmycraft,leaveCorsekelly,findmyownlife,myownfuture.AndDa.?.?.well,hesaidhewantednothingtodowithmeleavingandclaimedabandonmentofmyfamilyandthetownthatplayedahugepartinmylife.
Disrespectful
Irresponsible
Hurtful
AllwordsDausedwhenIconfrontedhimaboutmydecision.Andashespoutedoffhisdistasteforthemerenotionofmeleaving,Isawpaininhiseyes.Rawandreal.
Iaskedhimforhistruth,whyhewassohurtaboutmeleaving—trulyhurt.
Hemaskedup,shutdown,andremindedmeofwhatwe’dlostalreadyasafamily.
GuesswhowonoutregardingwhatIdidwithmylife?AllIcansayis,it’snotmyideatostayinCorsekellyasthetown’srepairman,goingfromhousetohousereplacingfaucets,cleaninggutters,andevencuttingthegrass.Butthat’swhatDawanted.Andaftereverythingthathappened.?.?.well,let’sjustsayIowehim.I’llleaveitatthat.
“Don’tyouraiseyourvoicewithme,”hesays,shiftingonthesofaandwincingatthesametime.
Afewmonthsago,Dastoppedworkingatthecoffeeshop,leavingalltheworktoMaw.Heinsistedontakingamuch-deservedbreakafterthirtyyearsofservingcoffeetothelocalsandtourists.ButMawcouldn’tkeepupwiththedemandofbakingandservingcustomers.Thecoffeeshophaslanguishedwithouthim.
“I’mnotraisingmyvoice,”Isay,myvoicerising.“I’mjusttryingtounderstandallofthis.”Ilookmydadeadintheeyes.“Areyousickandyou’renottellingme?”
“No,”hesaysgruffly,standingfromthesofaandmakinghiswaytothekitchen,whereMawhandshimaplate.“Wejustwanttotakesometimeoff,andwedon’tneedtoclearthatdecisionwithyou.”
Irunmytongueovermyteeth,corrallingmyanger.“That’sfair,butI’dappreciateyourespectingmeenoughtoinformmeaboutyourplans.I’myourson,afterall.”
AsthetensionbuildsbetweenmeandDa,Mawhurriesoverandpressesaplateintomyhand.“Sit,eat,andwe’lltellyouallaboutthetrip.”
KeepingmyeyesonDa,Itaketheplateandfindaseatatthetableinthekitchenette.
Shakyhands.
Unhealthyskin.
Sunkeneyes.
Whateverthey’reabouttotellme,Iknowthere’ssomuchmorethatthey’renotgoingtogiveaway.
“Aboutdamntime,”Lachlan,oneofmytwobestfriends,saysasIpushthroughthesemicrowdedpub.“LeithandIarestartingtogetsickofstaringateachother.”
“Surprising,givenhownarcissisticyoubothare.”Itakeaseatatthehigh-toptablethey’resharing.
LeithandLachlanMurdach.
IdenticaltwinsandproudownersofBubblesLinenBasket,thetown’slaunderette.They’realsobecomingincrediblyfamousonlineforthepersonal-trainingvideostheyposteverySunday.Deckedoutintheirkiltsandnothingelse,theyuseScotland’sterraintoworkout.Logsforbenchpressing,stonesforpush-ups,hurdlingfencesforcardio—blurredunderthekilts,ofcourse.Isawtheuneditedversionandnearlythrewupinmymouth.Theythoughtitwouldbefunnytoskiptheunderwearthatday.
Anotherman’sjigglingboabyissomethingyoucan’tunsee.
“Youseemextrairritatedtoday,”Leithsays,handingmeatumblerofwhisky.“DoesthishavetodowiththetwoAmericanswhocamestrollingintotowntoday?”
Idownmywhiskyandsettheglassonthetable,notgivingthemthesatisfactionofmyanswer.
“Ithinkitdoes,”Lachlansays.“Wordonthestreetisthey’reblondeandbonny.”
“Bonny”doesn’tevenbegintodescribeit.
Bonnie.
Ice-blueeyes,unlikeanyI’deverseenbefore,studiedme,devouredmeinoneslowperusal.Platinum-blondehairfelloverhershouldersandpastherplumpbreasts,whichwerebarelysecuredbyatowel.
Andthearrogancesheexuded—thewomanwashalf-nakedandusingabroomasaweapon,butshewasstillproud,stubborn,determined.Iwasn’tpreparedforthewaveofinterestthatwrappedaroundmylimbsandsankintomybones.NorwasIreadyfortheheadinessthatflushedthroughmybodywhenhereyesconnectedwithmine.
Butthenshementionedmyparents’imminentdeparture.Iwasquicklydistractedfromherbeautyandwasputonhighalert.HowcouldsheknowmoreaboutthemthanIdid?
Astranger.
“Haveyoumetthem?”Leithasks,lookingfartooexcited.
“One,”Isay,wishingIhadn’tgulpedallmywhiskydown.
“And.?.?.”
Ishrug.“Shewasn’tbad.”
Throwinghisheadback,Leithletsoutanobnoxiouslaughandshovesmyshoulder.“Don’tbuyit.”
Yeah,neitherdoI.
Ignoringhim,Idragmyhandovermyface.“Didyouknowmyparentsaregoingtobegoneforsixmonths?”
“Figuredasmuch,”Lachlansays.“That’swhatwasintheadvert—didn’tyoureadit?”
Apparentlynotwellenough.
“They’reheadedtoEurope,”Isay.“Travelingaroundfromcountrytocountrybytrain.”Atleast,that’swhattheytoldme.Itwisttheemptytumblerbetweenmyhands,recallingthevaguedetailsIdraggedoutofthem.
Icanstillfeelthepalpablesilenceinmyparents’houseasweallatetogether,theforksclangingoncrockeryplates,theheavyweighthoveringaboveallofus,theunspokentruthofwhat’sreallygoingoninourfamily.We’refallingapart.We’vebeenfallingapartforyears,andnooneiswillingtostepupandfixthings.
Afterthiswholeholibagsshite,I’msureashellnot.
“Souryou’renotgoingwiththem?”Lachlanasks.
“No,”Ishootback.“Irritatedtheydidn’ttellmeuntilthenightbeforetheywereplanningonleaving.”Ilookaroundthepub,makingsurenooneispayingourconversationanyattentionbeforeIlowermyvoice.“Haveyouheardanythingaroundtownaboutmyda’shealth?”
“No,”Lachlananswers.
“Why?”Leithasks,turningserious.“Youworriedabouthim?”
“Justdoesn’tseemlikehisfullself.He’sweak,fraillooking.Mawsayshe’sonadiet,butIdon’tbuyit.Heneverwalksaroundtownanymore.Godforbidhe’dtalktomeaboutit,though.Themanwouldratherdiepuffinghischestthanletmeinonanyfaulthemighthave.”
“Heseemslikehe’slostweight,”Lachlansays.“ButIthoughthewasjusteatinghealthier,likeyourmawsaid.Haven’tseenhiminthepubatall,orattheAdmiral.”
Aye.Anotherwarningsign.
Dalovesthistown,loveseveryonewholiveshere,andthrivesofftalkingtoasmanylocalsashecan.
I’mtheexactopposite.
“Christ,”IsighjustasIsla,LachlanandLeith’syoungersister,stepsuptothetable.“Hey,Isla.”
Shehandsoutanotherroundofdrinksandtakesaseatatthetablewithus.“Sawyourmawtoday,Rowan.Shetoldmeallaboutthenewlesbianintown.”
Hell.
ThankGodIslaissmirking.Mymawisbluntasfuckandhasnoboundariestospeakof.Makeslivinginasmalltowndifficult.
“SaidIshouldgomakeheracquaintance.Askheroutonadate.”
“OneoftheAmericansisalesbian?”Leithasks.
“Yes,well,accordingtoFinella.ShesaidDakota—that’shername—isrecoveringfromabadbreakup.”
“Howuncomfortablewasthatconversation?”Isay,shakingmyhead.
“NotasuncomfortableastheconversationwehadaftershefoundoutIwasgay.Progress.”Shewinks.
“Istheotheronealesbian?”Leithasks,seemingfartooeagerattheprospect.
“Bonnie,”Isay,staringdownatmyglass.“HernameisBonnieSt.?James.”
ThetablefallssilentasallthreeMurdachsstaremedown.
“Och,doweknowthisBonnie?”Islaasks.
Itipbackmyglassofwhisky,thoughIbarelylettheliquidwetmylips.“Ranintoheratthecottage.”
“And.?.?.??”Leithasks.“Caretoelaborate?”
Itakeanothersip.“Shetriedtoattackmewithabroombutbarelyeventappedme.Tinything.”
“Everyoneistinycomparedtoyou,”Islapointsout.
“Thinkingonaskingherout?”Lachlanasks.
“No,”Ianswer,andImeanit.Yeah,hereyesareunlikeanythingI’veeverseen,andbehindherangry,furrowedbrow,Ispottedthesoftestofsmiles,butIhavezerointerestingettinginvolvedwithanAmerican,letaloneonewho’sonlyheretemporarily.“She’srunningthecoffeeshop—Idon’tforeseeuscrossingpaths.”
“Haveyouforgottenwhereyoulive?”Lachlanasks.“I’dbeshockedifyoudon’trunintoheratleastonceaday.”
“Trustme.Istayoutofthistown’sway.”
“Uh-huh.”Leithlaughs.“Tenpoundssaysyouseeherfirstthingtomorrowmorning.”CHAPTERFIVE
BONNIE
Cakeconsumed:Zero,andI’mgoingthroughwithdrawal.
Newjob:One—notwhatIwanttodoforlife,butitwilldofornow.
Dayssincelastmale-inducedorgasm:Seventy-two,butmydreamswereprettynaughtylastnight.
AttractivebutsurlyScotsman:One,andhewasunfortunatelythestarofmynaughtydreams.
Tasks:One—makecaketoday.
“IsScotlandonthesurfaceofthesun?”Iliftmyhandstomyeyes.“Dakota,areweonthesun?”Ishout.
“Ihavecoffee,”shecalls,hervoicetravelingupstairstomybedroom,whichfeelsmorelikealoftsincethereisnodoorandtheceilingisslantedoneitherside,barelygivingmeenoughroomtostand.
Theprospectofcaffeinegetsmeoutofbed.
Lastnight,afterDakotagothomefromgoingoverallthedetailsofthecoffeeshopwithFinella,ItoldherallaboutRowanandhisrudeness.
Washecute?sheasked.
Didhehavebigmuscles?
WasheasstrappingasFinellasaidhewas?
Pfft,barely,Itoldher.Sure,ifyou’reintotheruggedScottype.
AfterDakotafilledmeinonsomedetailsaboutourstay,wedecidedIwouldtaketheupstairsroom.Dakotatookthedownstairsroom.Ithasalittlemorespacethanmine,butthat’sbecauseshehastosleeponatwinbed,whereasIhaveafull.
Thereisnodoubtmyeyesarebloodshotrightnowfromexhaustion.Ididn’tsleeptoowelllastnight,eventhoughIattemptedtogotobedearly—Ionlyfoundmyselftossingandturning,tryingtogetcomfortableinastrangebed,inastrangecottage,inastrangecountry.
Mightbefeelingahairhomesick.
IshieldmyeyesasItrudgedownthestairsandheadtothecoffeepot.“Whyisitsofreakingbright—?”Ipause,myeyeslandingonthetimeonthecoffeemaker.“Whatthehell?Isitreallyfourfifteeninthemorning?”
“Yup,”Dakotamumblesfromoneoftheredcouches.
“Whatkindofgameisthesuntryingtopullrightnow?”Ifillupacupandswirlsomesugararoundinit.
“SummerinScotlandmeanslongerdays.Didn’tyounoticeitwasstilllightoutwhenwewenttosleep?”
“Ijustassumedweweregoingtobedearly.”
“Wewenttobedattenlastnight,”Dakotasays,staringoutthewindow.
“What?”Igroan.“GoodGod,wherethehelldidyoutakeme?Accents,sheepstomach,waterbucketsfortoilets,andendlesssun.Idon’tthinkmybodyisreadyforthis.”
“It’llgetbetter,oncewe’rehereforabit.It’sjustabitofacultureshockatfirst.”
“Abit?”Iask,sittingonthesofaacrossfromher.“AScotsmansawmeinmytowelyesterdayandwasunfazedwhenIpushedhimwithabroom.Thereissomethingfishyaboutthepeopleouthere.”
“He’sprobablythinkingthesameaboutAmericans,sinceyoutriedtodefendyourselfwithabroom.”
“That’snotbeingweird—that’sbeinginnovative.”Isipmycoffee.“Whatthehellarewesupposedtodoforsixhoursbeforeweopenthecoffeeshop?”
“Explore?Getsomefood?”
“Uh,earthtoDakota,nothingopensuparoundhereuntilnine.”
“Ohyeah.”Shescratchesthesideofherhead.“Man,Iforgotaboutthat.Uh,wecouldgolookatthePenisStone.”
“Ahyes,sixa.m.adventurestogolookatapenisstone—that’sexactlywhatIwanttodo.”
“There’sfoodhere—Isawsomemuffinsinacupboard.Wecanpackthemupandgoforawalkalongtheloch,haveapicnicbreakfast.”
Theinternetisshoddyatbest,there’snoTVinthecottage,andouronlymodeofentertainmentisabookshelffullofromancenovelsthatIplanontacklingwhileI’mhere,butmyeyesaretoobustedforreadingatthemoment.
Soapicnicbythelochsoundslikeaplan.
“Okay,letmegochange.”
“Yeah?”Dakotaasks,lookingsurprised.
“Yeah.”Inodandstand,takinganothersipofmycoffee.
Iheadupstairs,whereIunpackapairofleggingsandalong-sleeveshirt.ItossthemonquicklybeforeIputmylonghairupintoamessybun—alookI’msureI’lladoptwiththeever-changingweather.Nousedoingmyhairifit’sjustgoingtogetrainedonallthetime.Isliponmyworkoutshoesandthenheaddownstairs,whereDakotaispouringourcoffeeintoto-gocups.
“Didyoupackthemuffins?”Iask.
“Notyet.They’reinthecupboardabovethefridge.Ithinktherearesomeapplesinthefridgetoo.”
“Perfect.”Dakotabroughtherhikingbackpack,soweloaditupandheadoutthedoorintothecrispmorningair.
Calmgreetsus.Theairdoesn’tseemtoshift,butitcarriesafreshweightthatseepsintomybonesandwakesmefasterthanthecoffee.Birdsongsurroundsusasalighthazeliftsoffthegroundanddewdropsclingtoeachbladeofgrassfromlastnight’srain.
Peaceful.
Serene.
ExactlywhatIneed.
“It’sbeautiful,”Iwhisper,feelinglikeifItalkanylouderImightwaketheentiretown,thoughwe’retuckedawayinourlittlegroveoftrees.
“Idon’tthinkI’veeverexperiencedanythinglikeit,”Dakotawhispersback.Shereachesover,grabsmyhand,andpressesourpalmstogether.“Thankyouforcomingwithme,Bonnie.”
Turningtowardher,Imatchhergratefulsmileandpullherintoahug.“Thankyoufordrunkenlyapplyingtothejobforbothofus.”
Shechucklesandpullsaway.“Fromthelookofit,we’renotgoingtohaveanyproblemwithcoffee.”Westartdownthegravelpathasthesunpeeksthroughtheleaves,trulymakingthisentireexperiencefeellikeadream.“Ididaskforhelpwhenitcametothecurrencyhere.Finellamadealittlechartforussoweunderstandtheworthofeachbillandcoin.”
“Ohcrap,Itotallyforgotaboutmoney.Doesitseemhard?”
Dakotashakesherhead.“Finelladidagoodjoblayingitallout.Icanshowyoulater.”
“Theyleavetoday?”
“Yeah,”Dakotasaysasweneartown.“Asweweresayinggoodbyeyesterday,shesaidtheshopwasinourhandsandshetrustsus.”
“Well,that’sagoodthing,Iguess.”AswehitCorsekellyLane,webothlookleft,thenright.Thestonedwellingsarequiet,thestreetempty.Acompleteghosttown.Notasoulawakebesidesus.AstarkcontrastwithLA,wheretimedoesn’tseemtostandstillbutmovespastyouatlightspeed.
InfrontofusisLochDuich,thesunglisteningoffminisculeripplesofwater.OffinthedistancearethepointypeaksoftheHighlands,decoratedingreenandpepperedwithevergreens,theperfectviewforadeathly-earlymorning.
“Wanttogodowntothebankoverthere?”Dakotaasks,pointing.“Wecansitontherockssoourbuttsdon’tgetwetfromthegrass.”
“That’sagreatidea.It’ssowethere—completelydifferentfromCalifornia.I’mgoingtohavetorememberthatwhenwalkingaround.”
Wefindtwoflatrocksthatsitrightatthewater’sedgeandtakeaseat.Dakotadivviesoutourbreakfast,andtogetherwewatchthewaterripplinginthesun,lappingjustbelowourfeet.
We’resilentforawhile,justenjoyingourmuffinsandnature,untilmymindstartstoturn,reflectingonthelastfewyearsofmylife.
Iwasneverthebeststudent,anditwasn’tfromalackoftrying.Ijustdidn’t.?.?.getit.Inevertrulyexcelledinanytopic,andIsettledwithsolidCsmyentirehighschoolcareer,whichdidn’ttranslateoverintocollege.
Higheracademicsweren’tlookingforaverage.
TheywerelookingforsomeonelikeDakota.Perfectgrades.Presidentoftheartclubandthechessclub—quitethebrainiac.Thegirltookonlinecollegeclassesduringhighschool,forcryingoutloud.Andfunnilyenough,shequicklyrealizedcollegewasgoingtobeawasteofhertimeonceshefoundanicheinthesocialmediamarketingcommunity.She’spaidwell,constantlyhasworkflowingin,hasbuiltaphenomenalportfolio,andcontinuestogrow.
Iwastheonewhowantedtogotocollege.Myparentsdidn’tknowthat.Theyneverknewabouttheapplications,andIwassuretoalwaysgrabthemailbeforethem.Iwantedittobeasurprise.Toshowthemthateventhoughtheywereconstantlyonmeaboutgettingmygradesup,Icoulddothingsonmyownandgotocollege,majorinbusiness,bemyowneventplanner.ButeverytimeIpickedupthemail,Iwasgreetedwithrejectionafterrejection.
Witheverypass,everyapologyletterfromauniversity,itbecameblatantlyclearthatmyparentswereright—Icouldn’tdoit.
Ihadtogetoutoftheirhouse,awayfromtheirdisappointedfaces.Onceagain,I’dletthemdown.
LosAngelesheldpromise,butIwasstilljustaverage.Nevertrulyexcelling.
“Thisisn’thowIexpectedthingstogoforus,”Isayquietly.
“YoumeanbouncingofftoScotlandoutoftheblue?”
Ichuckleandshakemyhead.“Well,Iwasn’texpectingthat,butIalsowasn’texpectingtobeputinasituationwherebouncingofftoScotlandwasreallymyonlychanceatrepairingmyself.”IsighandleanbackononehandasItiltmyheaduptothesky.“I’mtwenty-fouranddon’thavemuchtoshowforit.IwassosureIknewwhatIwantedtodo.MovetoLosAngeles,makeconnections,getintotheparty-planningscene.?.?.”Whatajokethatwas.Three-timepersonalassistantwithnothingtoshowforitbesidesknowingwhereeveryStarbucksisinHollywood.Pathetic.“Atleastyouknowyou’regoodatgraphicdesign—youcaneasilydothatwhereveryougo.ButIdon’treallyknowwhoIam.”Tearswellupinmyeyes.Mythroatgrowstightashopelessnessovertakesme,adarkcloudreadytopourdown.
“Yourjobdoesn’tdefineyouasaperson,Bonnie.”
“Butitgivesyoupurpose.Ihaven’tfeltpurposeinawhile,notsince.?.?.hell,Idon’tthinkI’veeverfeltpurpose.Ihaven’tfeltgenuinelyneeded.EvenwithHarry,henevertrulyneededme.AndIknowIdidn’tneedhim,butthatbreakupwaspainfulbecauseitwasanotherblowtomyself-esteem,anotherthingthatmademewonderifmaybe.?.?.maybeI’mnotimportantenough.”
“Stopit,”Dakotasays,reachingoverandtakingmyhand.“You’reimportanttome.EversinceyouhelpedmetakedownTijuanaandTheresaonthehandballcourt.”Isnort.“I’mserious,though,Bonnie.Youareveryimportant.Ineedyou.Ifitweren’tforyou,Idon’tknowhowIwouldhavemadeitthroughmybreakupwithIsabella.Andevenbeforethat,youwere.?.?.youaremyotherhalf.Wecompleteeachother,andyoumightnotfeelimportant,butyouarevastlyimportanttome.”
Andthatdoesittome.Mytearsspillover,andIletoutalowsob.Dakotascootscloserasshewrapsherarmaroundmyshouldersandsqueezestight.
“Doyourealizehowvaluableyouaretome?”DakotaasksasItrytogaincontrolofmyemotions.“LikeIsaid,IneverwouldhavemadeitthroughmybreakupwithIsabellawithoutyou.Youhavebeenmyconfidante,myrock,mylaughter,myentertainment.Idon’tjustchooseyouasabestfriendbecauseyou’vebeeninmylifeforwhatseemslikeforever—IchooseyoubecauseIrelyonyou,becauseIneedyou.?.?.Ialwayshave.”
Andcuemoretears.
Damnit,Dakota.
“YouknowIvalueourfriendship,right?”Iask,wipingawaymytears.
“Iknow.”
“It’salsogottenmethroughallthetoughtimes,andI’mproudwe’vemadeitthroughalltheupsanddowns.”
“But.?.?.??”Dakotasayswithachuckle.
“Itdoesn’tfeellikeenough,andIdon’twantthattosoundmean—”
“Iunderstandwhatyou’retryingtosay.Youneedmoreinyourlife.There’spurposebehindourfriendship,butyouwantthatindividualpurposetoo.Youwanttofeellikeyou’reaccomplishingsomething.”
“Exactly.AndIhavenoideawhatthatis.IthoughtmovingtoLosAngelesandworkingcloselywithcelebritieswouldsparksomethingwithinme,butlookingbackoverthoseyears,nothinggrabbedme,nothingmademefeelexcited.Andthepersonal-assistantjobsIhadweren’tallmundanetasks—Ididdosomefunthings,butthosesmallmomentsneveramountedtowhatIthoughtIwantedtodo.”
“Eventplanning?”Dakotaasks.
Inod.“Yeah,eventhinkingaboutitnow.?.?.doIreallywanttothrowparties?OrwasIjustgoodatattendingtheminhighschool?”
“Youwerethelifeoftheparty,”DakotasayswithasmirkwhenIglanceather.
“Andlookwherethatgotme.”Ibringmykneestomychestandwrapmyarmsaroundmyshins.“Bynow,peopleourageatleasthaveadirectiontheywanttotaketheirlife.I’mstilllost.”
“Nottrue.Theymighthaveadultjobsanddegrees,butalotofpeopleouragearen’treallydoingwhattheywanttodo.They’reworkingtopaythebills.Youhaveauniqueopportunitytotrulyreflectandfigureoutwhoyouwanttobecome.”
“Idon’tknowwheretostart,”Isay.“Myself-worthisprettylow.IknowI’vetriedtolaugheverythingoff,makejokesaboutmysituation,butafterjustadayhere,Ialreadyseethatourfast-pacedlifewasadistraction.We’resurroundedbypeaceandbeauty,andallit’sdoingisbringingallmyfearstotheforefrontofmymind.WhatifItrulyneveramounttoanything?WhatifIneverliveuptomyfullpotential?”
Dakotashiftsonherrockwhilepickingapieceoflintoffherpants.She’stakinghertimeresponding.Dakotaisalwaysthoughtfulandinsightful.Shedoesn’tspewnonsense,andwhenshehastoberealwithme,sheis.Thereisnofluffinourfriendship,justpureloveforeachother,andhonesty.
“Whatwouldyoudefineasasuccessfullife?Doesajobreallymatterthatmuchtoyou?Isthathowyouthinkyou’regoingtofindpurpose?”
“Itwillgivemesomethingtostrivefor,somethingtochallengeme.”
Sheslowlynods.“Youknow,sometimesIthinkwegetcaughtupintheideathatourjobsmakeorbreakusashumans,whenthat’snotthecaseatall.Ajobisameanstomakemoneyandprovideforyourself.Ithinkit’stherelationshipswecultivate,theenergyweputoutintotheworld,thatdefineus.Youcouldbeabillionairewithalltherichesintheworld,butthatwouldn’tmeanyourlifewastrulyrich.Ithinkwe’rebothlucky,becausewehaveeachother—atruefriendshipthathasstoodthetestoftime,especiallythroughtheteenagerhormoneyears.”Webothchuckle.“We’reanexampleofwomenliftingeachotherup,andtome,that’spowerful.”
“Yeah,itis,”Isay,feelingalittlelighter.“ButwhydoIstillfeellikeI’mmissingsomething?”
“Becauseyouare,anditwilltakesometimetofigureoutwhatthatis,butwhileyou’rehere,withallthisbeautyinyourbackyard,youshouldtrytofindthatmissingpuzzlepiece.”
“You’reright.”Isighandagainleanbackonmyhands,stretchingmylegsout.“Doyouthinkthistripisgoingtochangeus?”
“Us,asinourfriendship?Never.Butusasinindividuals?Ihopeso.”
SherestsherheadonmyshoulderandIrestmyheadonhers,lettingthebirdsfillthesilencewiththeirmorningsongs.
ItrulyhopeDakotaisright.
“Aye,they’redead,”avoicesaysassomethingstiffandhardpokesmeintheshoulder.
“Shouldwecallthepolice?Lookforamedic?”
Poke.
Poke.
Poke.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Imumble,shifting,onlytofeelamillionneedlespiercemyback.
OhdearGod,myassisnumb.
“Och,she’salive,”someonecallsout.“Whataboutt’otherone?”
ThesunisblazingonmeasItrytoopenmyeyes.Liftingonehandinfrontofmyface,Iblockouttheintenseraysandsquintthemopen.Dakotaislyingnearme,herheadrestingonmylap.
“Dakota.”Isitupandgiveheragentleshake.
“Hmm.?.?.”
“Wakeup.Wefellasleepontherocks.”
“What?”Shetriestoopenhereyesaswellbutmustrealize—likeIdid—thatScotlandresidesonthesurfaceofthesun.“OhGod,whyisitsobright?”Shesitsupandblinksatoursurroundings.
Idothesame.
Ourbackpack’scontentsarestrewnabouttherocks,alongwithourbodies.Ourthermosesofcoffeehavebeentossedtotheside,andourfeetdangleabovethelappingwater,justbeggingtobedraggedin.
“Whattimeisit?”
“Halften,”thevoicesaboveusanswer.
“Halften?”Iask,mymindmush.“Whatisthat?Halfoften?So,fiveinthemorning?GoodGod,it’sthisbrightoutatfiveinthemorning?”
“Nay.Halften.”
Ifinallyturnandspottwoolder-lookingwomenstandingoverus.Theybothhaveredhairandmatchingconcernedexpressions.“I’msorry,Idon’tknowwhat‘halften’means.”
“TheAmericans,”oneofthewomenscoffs.
“Aye,theyarebonny,aren’tthey?”
“Yes,that’sme,Bonnie—andyouare?”
“Fullofthemselvestoo.”Theychuckletogetherandreachout,givingusahelpinghand.“I’mInnis,andIruntheinnhere.ThisisShona—sheownstheMillMarket.”
“It’snicetomeetyou,”Isay,straighteningupasmuchasIcan,eventhoughIcan’tfeeltheentirebacksideofmybody.“ThisisDakota,andI’mBonnie.”
“Oh,Bonnieisyourname?”Innisasks.“Aye.Nicetomeetyou.AreyeScottish?”
“One-sixteenth,”Isay,puffingmychest.IwatchInnisandShonaexchangeaquicklookofamusement.
“Well,then,thecoffeeshopisingoodhands,evenifyouaretardytoopen.”
“What?”DakotaandIsayatthesametime.
“It’shalften,”Shonasays.“Wewenttogetacupbutnoticeditwasclosed,andthenwesawtwolifelessbodiesdownherebytherocksanddecidedtoinvestigate.Wethoughtyouweredead.”
“Whatdoes‘halften’mean?”Dakotaasks,lookingpanicked.
“Tenthirty.”
“OhmyGod,”webothsay.Quickly,wegatherourthingsandtakeofftowardthecoffeeshop,butnotbeforethankingtheladies.Theyjustlaughatusaswesprintupthegraybrickroadandstraighttothecoffeehouse,where.?.?.
Ohcrap.
Standingtall,hisarmscrossedoverared-and-black-plaidshirt,isnoneotherthanRowanMacGregor,asI’velearnedishislastname.
Hiseyesnarrowandweruntowardhim,andIknowI’mabouttobemetwithawholestormofgrumpy.
“Takingitlightonthejob?”heasks.
Itakeamomenttocatchmybreathasheglowersdownatme.“Wewereeatingbreakfastbythelochandfellasleepontherocks.”Iclutchmyachingback.“Itwasanaccident.”
“Myparentstrustedyoutotakecareoftheirshopwhilethey’regone,andthisishowyouactonthefirstday?”
“We’resosorry,”Dakotasays,joggingtomyside.“Itwasnotourintentiontoslack.We’rejusttiredandjet-lagged,andthebirdsongandlappingwaterweresopeaceful,andwejustcouldn’thelpourselves.”Thereshegoes,rambling.Shegetsthatfromme.
RowanlooksDakotaupanddown,butitdoesn’tfeellikethesameintenseperusalhegavemeyesterdaywhileIwieldedmybroom.
“Andyouare?”
“Dakota.”Sheholdsoutherhand,buthedoesn’ttakeit.Ugh,he’ssofreakingrude.“YoumustbeRowan.”
“Aye.Andyoumustbetheresponsibleone.”
“Whatisthatsupposedtomean?”Iask,handsonmyhips.“I’mresponsible.”
HisintimidatingeyesflashtowardmeforabriefsecondbeforehefocusesbackonDakota.“Memawanddaaskedmetostopoverattheshoptodaytomakesureyoutwowereallsetwitheverythingyouneed.Tomysurprise,youweren’there.”
“Notonpurpose.Wewouldneverdisregardyourparentslikethat,”Isay.
HiseyesremaintrainedonDakota.“Idon’tbabysit.ItoldmyparentsIwon’tbebabysittingyoutwo,butitlookslikeImighthaveto,judgingbyhowdayoneisgoing.”
“No,youwon’t,”Dakotasays,usingherbestmomvoice.“Thisisallanhonestmistake.Ipromise,wewillbebetter.”
“Wedon’thavetoproveanythingtohim.”Ifoldmyarmsovermychest.
“Bonnie,”Dakotasays,chastisingme.
Rowanshiftsinfrontofus,handsfallingtohiships.Challenging.
“What?He’sbeingrude.Itwasanhonestmistake.Hedoesn’thavetobesomeanaboutit.Iseehisintimidationtactics.Thewayhetowersoverthe‘weelasses,’”IsayinmybestScottishaccent.“Iseerightthroughyou,Rowan.”Imovetwofingersbetweenmyeyesandhis,buthedoesn’tflinch,notevenablink.“Iwon’tstandhereandletyouattempttointimidateus.No,sir.”Ipushpasthim,myshoulderbrushinghis,thestoneofhisarmsendingmyshoulderbackasIcontinueforward.“Now,ifyou’llexcuseus,wehavesomecoffeetomake.Comeon,Dakota.”
Frombehindme,IhearDakotasay,“I’msosorry.Itwon’thappenagain.”
IwatchthroughthefrontwindowasRowanangrilywalksaway.“Youdon’thavetosuckuptohim,”IsayasDakotastepsinsideandthedoorswingsshutbehindher.
“He’sStuartandFinella’sson.Ithinkitwouldbehelpfulifwewerenice.”
“Why?He’snotbeingnicetous.”
“Becausewhatifweneedhelpwithsomething?He’sthehandyman,isn’the?”
“We’llbefine.Whatcouldpossiblygowrong?”
Dakotastridesbehindthecounterandstartsscoopinggroundcoffeeintothecoffeemaker.“Thesearecenturies-oldbuildings—prettysureanythingcangowrong,especiallywhenyouputwordslikethatoutintotheuniverse.You’rejustaskingtobejinxed.”
“Please.Wehavealltheluckonourside,remember?We’regoingtogorubourfacesonthePenisStone.That’salltheluckweneed.”
“Onceagain,it’snottheBlarneyStone.It’swhereaman’sdickwaschoppedoff.”
“Inthenameofwomen,”Ideclare,raisingmyfist.“Trustme,wearegoingtobecompletelyfine.”
“WhydoIletyoutalk?”Dakotaasks,pressingherhandtoherfaceaswestareatthekitchenfaucet—whichisturnedonandcompletelydry.
“Areyoualludingtomejinxingus?”Iask,hopingtothehighheavensthatIdidn’t.
“Idon’tknow.Yougoandpissoffthehandyman,thenafteralong,boringdayatthecoffeeshop,wecomehometonorunningwaterwhenthewaterwasjustfineearliertodayandyesterday.”
IgaspandspintowardDakota.“OhmyGod,doyouthinkthisissabotage?”Istartmovingaroundthecottage,sniffingtheair,runningmyfingersoverthesurfaces.“Icansmellhim.Hewashere.”
“Youcan’tpossiblysmellhim.”
“Ican,”Iinsist.
“Thenwhatdoeshesmelllike?”
“Akilt,”Ianswer,noteventhinkingaboutit.
“You’veneversmelledakiltinyourentirelife.”
“False,”Isay,runningmynoseoverthebackofthecouch.?.?.oof,musty.“Lastfall,BathandBodyWorkssoldacandlecalledScottishKilt.That’swhatRowansmellslike.”
“You’velostyourmind.”
“HaveI?”Iask.“OrhaveIcrackedthecodeonthisman?”
“You’velostit.”Sighing,Dakotagrabsherphoneandpullsuphercontacts.
“Idon’tthinkcallingyourdadisgoingtobehelpfulrightnow.NotsureheknowsmuchaboutScottishplumbing.”
“I’mnotcallingmydad.”Sheholdsthephoneuptoherear.“I’mcallingRowan.”
“Youhavehisnumber?”Whenthehelldidshegetthat?
“Finellagaveittomeincaseweneededanything,”Dakotasays.Ahh,thatmakessense.
Wait.?.?.she’sactuallycallinghim.
“No,youcan’tcallhim.That’sexactlywhathewantsyoutodo.Wecanfigurethisoutonourown.”Hurryingtothebathroom,Igrabthetoilet-waterbucketandchargeoutofthecottagetothewell.
Now,tobehonest,I’veneverseenawellinperson,butI’veseenthembeingusedonmanyaTVshowandmovie,andwhenIsay“many,”I’mprettysureit’sonlybeenDisneymovies,butthat’sbesidethepoint.Thosebadassbitchesknewexactlywhattheyweredoingwhentheywerefetchingwater.
Squattingdownbesidetheshortstonewell,Ileanmyheadunderthewell’slittlethatchedroofandpeerdownthehole.
Pitchblack.
“Hello?”Icalldown,justtocheckthattherearen’tanytrollsorgremlinslurkingbelow.TheScottishareknownfortheirfablesandstorytellingso,youknow,justhavetomakesure.“Anyonehome?”Iask,laughingtomyself.
Whenthereisnoresponse,Itakethatasmycuetousethebucket.
“See,wedon’tneedhim,”Imuttertomyself.“Wecanjustgetourownwater.”Notideal,andyes,IsworeIwouldneedmodernplumbingwhenwefirstpulleduptothecottage,butI’vebecomeonewithScotlandtoday.Sleepingontherocksbyaloch—ha!—willdothattoyou.
Ipulldowntheropethat’sattachedtoapulleysystemandtieitsecurelyaroundthehandleofthebucket.Imakesuretoyankitafewtimestotestthatit’scompletelysecure.Don’tneedtoloseourtoilet-waterbucket.
OnceIfeelit’sready,Iletthebucketdangleoverthewellbeforegrabbingthepulley’shandleandturningit.Thebucketlowersafewinches.
“Aha!”Iyell,lookingbehindmetothecottageandspottingDakotainthefrontwindow,phonestillhelduptoherear.“Look,Dakota,I’mfetchinguswater.GetapicturefortheGram.”
Iturnthehandlealittlebitmoreandmarvelathowsmoothlyit’sloweringthebucket.It’sasifIwasborntofetchwater.
“We’llbetakingbathsinnotime,”Icallout,eventhoughthethoughtofdoingthismultipletimestofillthetubisn’tatallappealing.
Ugh,andtothinkfamiliesusedtosharethebathwater.Ican’tevenbegintothinkofallthedeadskinfloatingaround.
DakotaandIareclose.?.?.butwe’renotthatclose.
“Justgotoffthepho—Bonnie,whatthehellareyoudoing?”Dakotaasksfrombehindme.
Ipausemyworkandcranemyneckaround,flashingheragrin.“Didyounothearme?I’mfetchinguswater.Wedon’tneedKiltyMcGrumpyshiretocomeoverhereandsavetheday.Wearesurvivalists—wecanmakeitonourown.”
“YourformofsurvivalisUberEats.”
“Takesasmartwomantoknowwheretogetthebestfood,stillwarm,andforagoodprice.”Itapthesideofmyhead.“CallKiltybackandtellhimwe’regood.”
“I’mnotcallinghimback—andwhyareyoucallinghimthat?Youhaven’tseenhiminakilt.Youdon’tevenknowifheownsone.”
“Okay,let’snotbenaive,”Isay,loweringthebucketevendeeper.“Hesmellslikeakilt,he’sgrumpy,and.?.?.Idon’tknow,‘shire’hasaniceringtoit.KiltyMcGrumpy—huh.”Ifrown,sensingashiftintherope.“IthinkIjusthitsomething.”
“Whatdoyoumeanyoujust—?”
Anear-piercingscreechfillstheair,andbeforeIcanlookovertheedgetoassesswhat’sknockedmybucket,amassofblacknesscomesbarrelingoutofthewell,straighttowardme.
IflingmyselfbackonthegroundaswhatmustbehundredsofbatspouroutofthewelllikeatidalwaveofGod’sfurycrashingdownonus.
Now,thereisonlyonewaytodescribethesoundthatfliesoutofmymouthasabat’swingclipsmeacrosstheforehead:thewarcryofapiginheatasthefarmerstealsitstroughrightoutfromunderitsnose.
It’sferal.
It’sdisturbing.
It’sunlikeanythingI’veeverheardfallpastmylips.
Anditisn’tjustonescream.
It’sseveral.
“Ahhh!.?.?.snuffsnuff.?.?.ahhhhhhbababaahhhhsnuff.”
Oink.
(Notreally,butanoinkwouldn’tsurprisemeatthispoint.)
“They’reeatingmealive!”IcryouttoDakota,whoisnowheretobeseen.“Theywantmybrains;they’rebeggingforthesweetjuicesofmyintelligence.”Iswatattheairbeforetryingtoarmycrawlacrosstheground.Thistacticfailsmiserablyasbatafterbatdive-bombsme.“Ijustwantedwater.Don’tkillmeforwantingtostayhydrated.Ahhhh!”
Stillscreaming,Icovermyfacewithmyhands,decidingthatthisishowIdie.Then,tomyhorror,agiantbatscoopsmeupbythepantsandliftsmeofftheground.
“Don’ttakemetoyourlair.Please,I’mnotreadyforDracula.Ihavethedevil’sblood—it’llmakeyousick.Bloodinfusedwithgarlic.Somuchgarlic.Pleasespareme.Sparemylife.”
“Shutthefuckup,”adeepScottishvoicedemands.
IliftmyhandsfrommyeyesandlookuptofindRowancarryingmetothehouseandthentossingmethroughthedoor,whichhequicklyslamsbehindhimashe,too,enters.Iscrambleoffthefloorandtomyfeet.Myblondehairisawindblown—orbat-blown—mess,scatteredacrossmyforehead,whippingagainstmyfaceandtangledintoknots.
IstandupstraightandliftmychinbeforeIslowlypushachunkofhairoutofmyeyes.“Ihadithandledoutthere.”
Dakotaisstandingtotheside,coveringhermouthandchucklingsomuchthatIcanseehershouldersshakewithsuppressedlaughter.
Shewillhearaboutmydispleasureatherreactionlater.Rightnow,IhavetodealwithaScot.
“No,youdidn’t,”heretorts.“Yousoundedlikeahorsegettingitslegchoppedoff.”
Huh.?.?.thatwouldbeanotheraccuratewaytodescribethesoundscomingfrommymouth.
“Well,pardonmeforexpressingmydiscomfortasamillionbatstriedtoburythemselvesinmyhairandtakemetotheirmaster.NexttimeI’llbesuretogiggleandactmoreladylike.”
“Wouldn’thurt,”hesays,andhisreplymakesmereally,reallywanttokickhimintheshin.
“Whyareyousosurlyallthetime?Gotyourkiltalltwistedinyourcrack?”
Helooksdownathisjeansandbackupatme.“I’mnotwearingakilt.”
“Metaphorically.”
“Aye,sowoulditbemetaphoricallythesameifIaskedwhetherornotyourcowboyhatwasscrewedonalittletootight?”
“NotallAmericanswearcowboyhats.”
“Whichproveshispoint,”Dakotasaysfromthesideofhermouth.Iglanceatherwithnarrowedeyes—sheseemstobehavingtoomuchfunwatchingthisinteraction.
“That’sneitherherenorthere,”Isay,straighteningmyshirt.“Wedon’tneedyourassistance.Weareperfectlyfineusingthewellwater.Now,ifyouwouldpleasescurry—”
“Thatwellhasbeendriedupforyears.”
Huffing,Iflingmyarmtowardthewellinfrustration.“Thenwhyhaveitthere?Collectingbats?Forunsuspectingpeoplewhothinkthey’reprovidingaservicebyfetchingwater?”
“It’sdecorative.Mawsaysitaddscharmfortouristslikeyourself.”
Well,Finellaiscorrectaboutthat.Definitelycompletesthelookofthethatch-roofed,fairy-talecottageinthewoods.
Butintermsofconvenience,it’squiteconfusing.
“It’salsowrittenintheguestbook,ifyoureadit.”Henodstowardabinderonthecoffeetable.
“Ifellasleeponjaggedrocksinthemiddleofastrangetownthismorning,”Isay,cockingmyhandonmyhip.“DoyoureallythinkIhavethestaminatopowerthroughahousemanual?”
“It’dbetheresponsiblethingtodo,butoch,you’renottheresponsibleone,now,areya?”
IturntoDakotaandjabafingertowardRowan.“Itoldyouhewasrude.Rudeandgrumpyandmeanand.?.?.smellslikeakilt.Seriously,gosmellhim.”
“Whatdoesakiltsmelllike,perse?”heasks,armsstillcrossedoverhisbarrelofachest.
“LikeafreakingBathandBodyWorkscandle.Honestly,whoareyoupeople?”Walkingtowardthesittingarea,Ithrowmyhandsuptotheskyandthenflingmybodyontothecouch,whereIsitpetulantly.
“Uh,she’stiredandneedsabath,”Dakotasays,steppingupasthepeacemaker.“We’dbegratefulifyoucouldcheckoutthewaterforus.”
“Aye,”Rowansays.Icanfeelhisgazeonme,butIdon’tgivehimthetimeofday.No,sir,youcanstareallyouwant.I’llkeepmyeyestrainedonthistinypieceofblacklintthathasfallenonmypants.Ipickatitandrollitbetweenmyfingers.
Thelinthereishard.
TherearesomanylittledifferencesbetweenScotlandandtheUS.I’msurethat’swhatitwillbelikeforthenextsixmonths:discoveringallthesedelightfulculturaldifferences.
“You’rerollingbatpoobetweenyourfingers,”Rowansaysashewalkstowardthedoor.
“What?”Isqueal,tossingittotheground.
“Aye,it’salloveryourclothes.I’dchangeifIwereyou.”
“OhmyGod!”IyellasIscurryupthestairstomybedroom.CHAPTERSIX
ROWAN
NumberofunrulyAmericanssavedfrombats:One.
SeeingBonnieflailaboutontheground:Daymade.
“Wh-whyareyoustillhere?”Bonniesays,comingoutofthebathroomwithatowelwrappedaroundherhead.
Inallmyyears,I’veneverseenanythingquiteascomicalasBonniebeingattackedbybatsinfrontofthecottage.IwasjustaroundthecornerwhenDakotacalled,andthenIheardthebats’telltalescreeching.Iknewtroublewaswaitingjustbeyondthetrees.
Sureenough,therewasBonnie,rollingaroundtheground,screamingandspewingoffthingslikeDon’tdrinkmyblood,it’sAmerican—you’llthinkit’stoosour
Humorbeatingthroughme,Iliftedherupbyherpantsandbroughtherintothehouse.Lightlittlethingthatsheis,shethoughtIwasagoddamnbatcarryingheraway.Jesus,thislass.
“Cloginthepipes,”Dakotaanswersfromthecouch.“AccordingtoKiltyMcGrumpyshire,thecottagehasn’thadaresidentinafewmonths,whichmeansthepipesarestillgettingacclimatedtopeopleusingthemagain.”
KiltyMcGrumpyshire?
“Dakota,”Bonniehisses.“Don’tcallhimthattohisface.That’sabehind-the-scenesnickname.”
“Well,nowitreallyisn’t,”Dakotasaysonachuckle.She’sprettycool.Relaxed.Doesn’tseemtogetherhairsstandingonallendslikeherfriend.WhileI’vebeenworkingonthepipes,Dakotahasbeenworkingonhercomputer.Shetoldmeshe’sagraphicdesigner,whichIthoughtwasprettycool.I’vealwayshadafondnessforusingthecreativeboneinyourbody.
Istandfrommysquattedpositionunderthesinkanddustoffmyhands.“Youshouldbeallset.”
Dakotasetshercomputertotheside.“Thankyou.Wereallyappreciateit.Don’twe,Bonnie?”
“Yeah,sure,whatever.”Bonnierollshereyes.
IgrumbleaslewofScottishcursesundermybreathwhilepackingupmythings.Stubborn.She’ssofuckingstubborn.
“Doyouwanttostayfordinner?”Dakotaasks.
“Dakota,”Bonniehiss-whispers.
“What?”shesnapsasifI’mnotintheroom.“Hefixedourplumbingsoyoudidn’thavetosmelllikelochandbatshitanymore.”
“Aweetip—inScotlandwecalloureveningmeal‘tea.’”IcatchBonnierollinghereyesbeforeIfocusbackonDakota.“Butanyway,whatareyeserving?”Iask,justtopushBonnie’sbuttons.
“Uh.?.?.”Dakotastandsfromthecouchandgoestothekitchen,whereshepawsthroughthebarrenpantry.“Wecanordersomething.”
“Aye,youthinkso?”Iask.“Whereyeorderingfromateightatnight?”
“Ugh,Iforgoteverythingclosesaroundhere.Well,wecangotothemarketquickand—”
“Closed,”Isay.
“Well.?.?.we.?.?.uh.?.?.Bonnie,grabtheboxcakeyoubroughtwithyou.We’llbakethatquickly,andwecanallsharethat.”
“Ohhellno.He’snotworthyofmyboxcake.”
Iholdbackthechucklethatbubblesupinsideme.Eyestrainedonherlowerhalf,Isay,“Definitelynotinterestedinyourbox.?.?.cake.”
“Didyouhearthat?”BonnieasksDakota,pointingatmeagain.“Hewasreferencingmyvagina.”
“GoodGod,Bonnie,hewasn’t!”
“Nah,Iwasn’t.Iwastalkingaboutyourfud.”
“Gah,evenworse.”Shestompsherfoot.
“Doyouevenknowwhatafudis?”Iask.
Shegoestoopenhermouth,butshepauses,closingit.Then,“Whatisafud?”
“Avagina.”
“Ahh,”shehuffs.“You’reinfuriating.”Sheflipsherheadover,unravelshertowel,anddrapesitoverachairbeforewrappingherwethairupinherhands,twistingitaround,andsecuringitwithahairband.Totheroom,sheannounces,“I’mgoingtothepub.Iassumethat’stheonlythingopenrightnow?”
“Areyouaskingme?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Aye,Fergie’sisopen.”
“Thenit’ssettled.”Shegrabsherwalletandwalksuptothedoor,whichshecracksopen.Mostlikelytoseeifthebatsarestillaround.Shepausesforafewsecondsbeforeheadingoutthedoor,closingitbehindher.
Dakotasighsloudlyandturnstome.“She’susuallymuchmorepleasant.”
“Hardtobelieve.”
“Ithinkyoujustrubherthewrongway,butthatcouldbebecauseshethinksyou’rehot.”
“Shesaythattoyou?”Iask,alittleshocked.
“No.”Dakotashakesherhead.“ButIknowmyfriend,andbasedonthewaysheeatsyouupwithhereyes,sheatleastfindsyouattractive,evenifshecan’tstandyourpersonality.”
Iletoutaweechuckleandpushmyhandthroughmyhair.Couldyouimagine?
ShackingupwiththeorneryAmerican?
Never.
“HowdidIknowhe’dbetaggingalong?”Bonnieasks,clutchingabeerassheglowersatmefromahightop.
I’llgivethegirlalittlerespect:she’sdrinkingadarkbeer.Can’tbesureexactlywhichone,butittakesaspecialkindofpalettetodrinkanalefromaScottishpub.
“Benice,”Dakotasays,takingaseat.
Forsomereason,Idothesame.MaybebecauseDakotainsisted,ormaybebecauseI’magluttonforpunishment.Eitherway,Icanforeseethisbeinganuncomfortablemeal.That’sfordamnsure.
“Howdoesthiswork?”Dakotaasks,pickingupamenufromthetable.“Wow,threechoices.Okay.”Shechuckles.“Whatdoyousuggest?”
“Gowiththefishandchips,”Isay.“Nevercangowrongwiththem.”
“Perfect.Isthereawaiter.?.?.??”
“I’llorderatthebar.Whatdoyouwanttodrink?”
“Waterisgoodforme.Idon’tneedtodrowninmysorrowslikeBonnieoverhere.”
Atthatmoment,Bonnietipsherdrinkbackandtakesalargegulp,leavingamustacheoffrothalongherupperlip.
Withasmirk,Ihopoffthechairandgouptothebar,whereHamishisfillingupapint.I’veknownthemansinceIwasaweelad.Youngerthanmyfatherbutolderthanme,hetookoverFergie’sCastlewhenhisfatherretiredandhandedovertheestablishment.NowHamishandhiswifetakecareoftheplace,keepingthemenusimpleeverydayandthelocalshappywithnever-endingdrinks.
“Threeordersoffish,aWolfforme,andawater.”
Henodsatmeandstartspouring.Hespotsthegirlsovermyshoulder,andhiseyeswidenininterest.“TheAmericans?”
“Aye.”
“LeithandLachlancalledit.”
“Calledwhat?”Iask.
Hehandsmemybeerandworksonthewater.“Thatyouwouldn’tbeabletostayaway.”
“Theirplumbingwasn’tworking.WhatwasIsupposedtodo?Notanswerthecall?”
“Nay,youhelp.”Hehandsmethewater.“Buteatin’withthelasses,now,thatwasn’tnecessary.”Hewinksandflashesaknowingsmileasheturnsaway.“I’llputinyourorder.”
Ignoringhim,IheadbacktothetableandhandDakotaherwater,debatingifIshouldsitdownornot.ItwouldbeweirdifIdidn’tatthispoint.Hamishhadapoint,though:Ididn’thavetojointhem,butIwantedtoseehowmanyofBonnie’sbuttonsIcouldpush.
“Thankyou,”Dakotasays,holdingupherwaterandtakingadrink.Sheeyesmybeer.“Whatdidyouget?”
“TheWolf.”Itakeasipandletthemaltyflavorssitonmytongue.“It’sgoingtobereallygoodwiththefishandchips.”
“Isn’tthatwhatyougot?”DakotaasksBonnie.
“Aye,’tisthenamethatcaughtmeweeeye,”Bonnierepliesinanover-the-topScottishaccent.
“Poorimpersonation.”
“Idon’tknow,Ithoughtitwasprettyspoton.”Shesipsherbeer,andforasecond,IthinkIcatchahumorousglintinhereye,butshelooksawaybeforeIcanassessit.
“Awright,melad!”IhearLeith’svoicecalloutbehindmybackrightbeforehishandlandsonmyshoulder.
Fuckinggreat.
“IslaandIthoughtwe’dfindyouhere,butIdidn’tthinkI’dseeyouwithtwolovelylasses.”LeaningtoBonnieandDakota,hewhispers,“Thebigguyiskindofaloner.”
Bonniestretchesoutherhandimmediately.“I’mBonnie,andIcanalreadytellwe’regoingtobebestfriends.Comesitrightnexttome.”
Leithtakesherhandinhis.“Leith,andit’snicetomeetyou.Thisismesister,Isla.”HetakesaseatnexttoBonnie,wholooksfartoohappy,andIslasitsnexttome.Icanseeshe’sfeelingshy,fromthewaysheleansalittleclosertomeandhuncheshershoulders.
SoIdecidetodotheintrosforher.“Isla,thisisBonnieandDakota.They’rebothwatchingoverthecoffeehousewhilemyparentsareonholibags.”
Shesmiles.“Nicetomeetyou.”WhenshemakeseyecontactwithDakota,theybothquicklyturntotheirrespectivedrinksandbringthemtotheirmouths.
“So,Leith,tellmeallthedirtydetailsaboutRowan.”Bonniejabsathumbtowardme.“Howdoyouknoweachother?”
“Bestmatessincewewereweelads,”Leithsays.Hesmirksatme,andIknowthatgrin.He’sabouttotakethepissoutofmelikeanyothergoodfriendwould.Thoughtakingthepisscangobothways,andIhavewaymoredirtonhim.
“Oh,soyouknowalot.Hashealwaysbeenthisgrumpy?”
“Aye.”Hepointshisfingersatmybrow.“Seethatcrinklebetweenhiseyes?It’sbeentheresincehewasfive.”
“Don’tlethimfoolyou.”Islaspeaksup,givingmyshoulderasqueeze.“Rowanmightbegrumpy,buthehasaheartofgold.”
“Isthatso?”Bonnieasks.“Ihaveyettoseethisheartofgold.”
“Nay,yousawitwhenIpickedyouupbyyourbreeksandhauledyouintothecottage.”
“Youtossedmeonthefloor.”
“Where’sthisstorygoing?”Leithasks,rubbinghishandstogether.
“Thenumptythoughtshecouldgetwateroutofthewell,butinsteadshesummonedawaveofbats.Iarrivedjustastheywere—Bonnie,howdidyouputit?Tryingtosuckherblood?”
“Theywere.Ifeltfangs.”
Irollmyeyes.“Itookcareofit.”
“Tossedmearoundlikeawetrag.”
“You’rewelcome.”Itipmybeerinherdirection.
Leithlooksbetweenus.“Isitjustme,oramIsensingsomesexualtensionbetweenthetwoofyou?”
“Nope”—Dakotaraisesahand—“I’vebeenfeelingitforthepasttwohours.”
Islasmilesoverather.“Ifeelittoo.It’spracticallybouncingoffthem.”
Withaslygrin,Bonnietiltsherheadtotheside.“Doyoufindmeattractive,Kilty?”
Withoutskippingabeat,Isay,“IfIfoundtheLochNessMonsterattractive,thenyes.”
Bonnie’seyesnarrow.
Leithclapshishandsandlaughs,whileDakotaandIslabothchuckleandsiptheirdrinks.
“Well,incaseyouwerewondering,you’reprettyrevoltingyourself,”shesnaps.
“Iwasn’twondering,”Isay,onlypissingheroffevenmore,thoughIcouldn’treallycarelesswhatshethinks.
“Sofar,whathavebeenthebiggestcultureshocksforyou?”IslaasksDakotaandBonnie,thoughshe’sreallylookingatDakota.
Amongthefiveofus,we’veallsplitthreelargeplatesoffishandchipswhiletheband’sbeenstrikingupafolksytuneinthebackofthepub,settingthemood.Andhell,I’minagoodmood.I’mnotsureifit’sbecauseI’monmyfourthbeer,thefiddleisupbeatinthebackground,orI’msurroundedbyfriends,butI’mhavingahellofatime.Ithasnothingtodowiththeblondesittingacrossfrommeandthewayshe’spokingherfingersintheairinadancemovesheclaimsisall-American,orhowsheswappedseatswithDakotawhenLeithwasaskingaboutgraphicdesign,sonowIcansmellherfloweryscentasshesitsrightnexttome.
Noneofthat.
Nope.
It’sthebeer.
Mostdefinitelythebeer.
Hershoulderswaysagainstmine,andIswallowhardasIcatchawhiffofhershampoo.
God,itsmellsamazing.
“Biggestcultureshock?”Dakotaasks,nursingabeernow,herglassofwaterlongforgotten.“Probablynothingbeingopen.We’resousedtohavingeverythingatthetipsofourfingers.Storesareopentwenty-fourseven,fooddeliveryisalwaysavailable,andinLAtherearesomanydifferentfoodchoicesthatit’shardtomakeadecision.”
“Thatandthedaylight,”Bonniesays,swayingtothemusicnow.“Iwasnotexpectingittobesosunnyallthetime.Fourinthemorningfeltlikenine.”
“Oursummerdaysarelong,butit’snice,sinceweallshutdownatfive—atleastmostofus,”Islasays.“Wegettoenjoythesummerweather.”
“Arethereanyhikingtrailsaroundhere?”
“Lots,”Leithanswers.“Plentyofoutdooractivities.Sunday,wheneverythingisclosed,wecanplanahikeuptoCorsekellyCastle.It’shalfinruins,butit’sagreatplaceforapicnic.”
“Weloveitupthere,”Islaadds.
“Upwhere?”IhearLachlansayashecomesuptothetableandstandsbehindLeith.
Bonniegripsmyarmandsways.“Holyshit,howmanybeershaveIhad?”Sheblinks.“IsanyoneelseseeingtwoLeiths?”
“’Tismytwinbrother,Lachlan,”Leithsays,laughing.
“Twoofyou?”Bonnielooksmeupanddown.“Aretheretwoofyou?Istheotheronenicer?”
“Justone.”Isipmybeer.“Youwouldn’tbeabletohandletwoofme.”
“Aye,thismustbeBonnieandDakota,”Lachlansays,grinning.“IcanalreadytellRowan’ssmittenwithBonnie.”
JesusChrist.
“IrecallhimcomparingmyattractionleveltotheLochNessMonster,”Bonniesays.“Idon’tthink‘smitten’istherightword.”
“That’sRowanforya—trulyknowsthewaytoalass’sheart.”
Fuckingbawbag,doesn’tknowhowtokeephismouthshut.
Istandfromthetableandpushmystoolin.“Offtothecludgie.”
Withoutanotherword,Iwalktowardthebackofthepubandpasssomeofthelocals,whogivemenods,andstraighttotheback,wherethestallisvacant.Imakequickworkofrelievingmyselfandwashmyhands.BythetimeIexit,IcatchLachlandancingnearthebandwithBonnie.
Ipauseforamoment,takingherin.Herlongblondehairfliesabouthershoulders,releasedfromherhairbandaboutanhourago.Musicfromourlocalbandfillsthesmallconfinesofthepub,thefiddletakingcenterstage.Hercontagioussmilestretchesfromeartoearassheshakeswiththebeat,usingthosepointyfingerstoguidehermovements.
Shelookshappy.
Relaxed.?.?.
EverythingI’mnotasIstandherestaringather,realizingveryquicklythatthegirlinfrontofmeiscatchingmyattention.
Hell,notjustcatchingmyattention,butmakingmethinkstupidthingslikeWhatdoherlipstastelike?
ShegivesLachlan’schestaplayfulpush,andtheybothlaugh.Hetakesherhandsinhis,spinningheraroundthefloor.Alleyesareonthem,andifIdidn’tknowanybetter,IwouldsayLachlanistryingtogoadmewiththesmirkheshootsmywaywhenhe’sdonespinningher.
Well,it’snotgoingtowork.
Notinterested.
ButevenasIthinkthat,jealousypricksatthebackofmyneck.
Jealousyofwhat,though?
Thatthey’rehavingagoodtime?
OrthatLachlanhashishandsalloverBonnieandIdon’t?
Eitherway,itshouldn’tmatter—thisismyopportunitytoleave.
IheadtowardthetablejustasBonnieisflunginmydirection,spinningawayfromLachlan,laughterfallingpastherlips.Shetwistsandtripstowardtheground.Dreadfillsmeassheflailsherarms,stilllaughing,andoninstinct,Ireachout,catchingherrightbeforeherheadhitsatable.
Lightinmyarms,shelooksupatmeinsurprise,andthenthemaddestthinghappens.
Shesmilesatme.
AndbeforeIknowit,she’sstraighteningupandtakingmyhandsinhersandpullingmetowardthedancefloor.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Iask,mybodyfeelingasstiffasaboard.
“Dancing.Don’tyoudance,Kilty?”
“No.”
“Idon’tbuyit.”Keepingmyhandinhers,shecoercesmeintodancingbyspinningundermyarmandmovingmebackandforth.
Ifeelalleyesonme.EverylocalinthepubknowsI’msofaroutofmycomfortzonethatI’msurprisedthey’renotallpullingouttheirphonestorecordtheraresightofmeonadancefloor.
“Bonnie,Idon’t—”
Shegripsmyhips,andmyfaceburnsassheswaysthembackandforth.“Sheesh,yourpelvisisashardasarock.AreyouhidingtherealBoabyStoneinyourpants?”
Moveyourhandsalittlebitmoreinward,andyou’llknowexactlywhathardis.
“Loosenup.Maybethat’swhyyou’realwayssogrumpy—you’renotloose.You’dthinkwithsomebeerinyoursystem,you’dbemorewillingtoshakeyourbooty.”SheturnsmetothesideandpokesmejustasImovetotheside,andsheaccidentallypokesmedirectlyonthearse.“OhdearLord,Ipokedyourbehind.”Laughing,shecupshermouthandsays,“Pardonme,dearsir,but.?.?.diditatleastmakethingscometolife?”
Annnd,she’ssloshed.
ThereisnowayinhellsoberBonniewouldbeaskingmeifthingswere“comingtolife,”letalonedancingwithme.
Bendingdown,Ipickherupandtossherovermyshoulder.
“Whatthe—putmedownatonce.Idemandit!”
“Yourtimehereisup,”Isay,bringinghertothetable,whereDakota’sjustfinishedpayingthebill.
“Youaren’tthebossofme.I’magrownwoman.Imakemyowndecisions.”
Dakotaquicklysaysgoodbyetoeveryonebeforefollowingmeoutthedoor.
“Dakota,tellthisHighlandbeasttoputmedownatonce.”
“It’stimeforbed,Bonnie,”Dakotasays,andI’mgratefulshe’sonthesamepageasme.
“Iwasjuststartingtohavefun,”shewhines.
“YouwerepokingRowan’sass.”
“Accidentally,”shecomplains,stilldrapedovermyshoulderasItrudgedowntheroad,thesunfinallystartingtosetinthewest.She’snotheavy,butI’mstillgratefulFergie’sisclosetothecoffeeshop,andwe’resoonturningdownthegraveldriveway.“Yousawthewayhewasdancing.Therewasnoswayinhishipsatall.Iwassimplywakingthemup.”
“You’regoingtobehurtingtomorrowifyoudon’tgetsomesleep,”Dakotasays.“Wecan’tbelateagain.”
Ipause.“Och,doyouwantmetodropyouoffonyoursleepingrockstopassout?Seemslikeyousleepwellthere.”
“You’reanasshole,”BonniemutterswhileDakotachuckles.
Thatputsasmileonmyface.
Ipullmyshirtovermyheadandtossitintothehamper.Slippingmybootsoff,Ituckthemawaywheretheybelongandthenremovemysocks.AsIwalkoutofmybedroom,Itakeonequickglanceinthemirrorandnoticehowrumpledmyhairis.
Itwasn’tfrommepushingmyhandthroughit.
No,itwasalittlegiftfromBonnie.OnceitbecameclearIwouldn’tputherdownuntilshewasinherbed,shedecidedshe’dmesswithmyhair,stickingitonallends.
“Takethatandthatandthat,”shesaid,overandoveragainwhilediggingherfingersthroughthethickstrands.
Hell,itfeltfuckinggood.
Shethoughtshewasannoyingme,butinrealityIwashopingshe’dkeepdoingit.Andthat’showIknewImightbeabitsloshedtoo.
Iwalkintomykitchen,grabtheglassthatIkeepnexttothesink,fillitupwithsometapwater,andguzzleitdown,onlytofillitupagain.
Toowiredtoevenconsidergoingtosleep,Ipushthroughmyfrontdoor,theeveningairputtinglifeintomychestwhileIwalkovertomyshed.Cricketschirpinthedistance,andmyfrontdoorlightilluminatesmypathasmybarefeetclosethedistance.
Slowly,Iunlockthesheddoorandslideitopen.IfliponthelightIinstalledafewmonthsagowhenIrealizedIdomybestworkatnight.
Mysmallbutcomfortingspacecomestolifefromtheoverhanginglight,instantlyrelaxingme.Shelvesofdryingprojects,half-glazedpots,andfinishedproductslinethewalls.Mykiln,whichIreplacedlastyearaftermyfirstonebrokedown,sitsinthecorner.Andthenthere’smywheel,myplaceofsolace.
It’sbeenalongfuckingdayofrepairingthingshereandtherebeforegivingmyparentsaquicksend-off.Ididn’tgetmuchmorethanahugfrommymawandagruntfrommyda.Afterthat,Ihelpedsomeofourolderresidentswithmenialtasks,andthen,ofcourse,assistedBonnieandDakota.I’mexhaustedbutexhilaratedatthesametime.
Itakeaseat,setmyglassdown,dipmyhandsinwater,andthengrabachunkofclay.Isetitonthepotter’swheelinfrontofme,whereIspiralwedgeit,lettingouttheairbubbles.Thefeeloftheclaybeneathmyfingerssoothesmybusysoul,givingmethechancetoclearmymindandjustbreathe.Iturnonthewheelandslowlystarttomovemyhandsovertheclay.NormallyIlistentomusicwhilethrowing,butthesoundsofthenightfilterthroughmyshedinstead,andIgetlost.
Myannoyanceatmyparentsandtheirevasivenesswashesaway.
TheirritationofdoingajobIhate,toappeasemyduty-drivenfather,disappears.
TheanguishofnotlivingthelifeIwantslowlyvanishes.
Thehorrorofmypastfades.
Allthat’sleftaremyhandsandmyclay.?.?.andBonnie.
Fuck.
Thoseeyes,thatattitude,thatsmile.
Idipmyfingersintothecenteroftheclay,formingahole.
Herbrazenness,herquickwit,hereagernesstodancewithme.
MyteethpullonthecornerofmymouthasIroundtheclaybacktogether.
She’sproud,likeme.Defensivelikeme.Stubborn.?.?.likeme.
Ipressmythumbdown,savoringthefeeloftheclayglidingundermyskinandforminganotherbowlshape.
IthinkImighthavemetmymatch—andshe’swrappedupinatiny,feisty,all-Americanpackage.CHAPTERSEVEN
BONNIE
Cakeconsumedtoday:None,butthat’sabouttochange.
Dayssincelastmale-inducedorgasm:Seventy-three?Seventy-four?It’sgettingupthere.
Hangovers:Onemassivehead-crackinghangover.
AnnoyingScottishmenwhotreatwomenlikepotatosacks:One,butGoddoeshesmellgood.Likeareallysexypheromone-filledkilt.
Idon’tknowwhattheyputintheirbeeroverhere,butgollyisitstrong.DidIpokeanasslastnight?
“You’rewalkingtoofast,andmyretinasarebleeding.”IshieldthesunfrommyeyesasDakotadragsmealongthestone-pavedstreet,awayfromthecoffeeshop.“Idemandtoknowwhereyou’retakingme.”Insteadofanswering,Dakotacomestoanabruptstopbeforeatealdoor.
Iblinkatthedoor,strugglingtotrulyseeanythinginthisgodforsakensunlight—IthoughtScotlandwasallrainandclouds;bunchofturdwashthatis—beforeDakotaopensitandpushesmeinside.Istumbleintothesweetest-smellingroomI’veeverbeenin.
Twobakerycasesrestnexttotheintricatelycarvedcounter—aMurdachclancrestshavedintothemiddle.Ontheothersideofthebeautifullywood-paneledspaceisahighbarattachedtothewallwithaccompanyingseatsforthosewhowanttoeatinthebakery.Thereisn’tmuchdecor,buttheredoesn’tneedtobe,giventhewood-stainedcorbelsinthecornersandthewood-slattedceilings.
Adorable.
“Hey,ladies.”IlookuptofindIslawalkingtowardus,anapronaroundherwaistandatowelinherhands.“Howareyoufeeling?”
Islaisadorabletoo.Reallyfreakingadorable.Vibrantredhairbrusheshershoulders,andshehasthesesteelyeyesthatshebarelyhighlightswithatouchofmascara.Alightsplatteringoffrecklesdecorateshernose,andthesmallestofnoseringsglimmersinthelight.
WhenshewalkeduplastnightandRowanintroducedus,IgaugedDakota’sreaction—blushingcheeksandlightsmirk—andIknewmybestfriendwasalittlesmitten.
Idon’tblameher.Islaisabombshellwithasweetaccent.Everywordthatcomesoutofhermouthislikeamelody.
And,mostimportantly,sheownsabakery,whichmeans.?.?.
“Caaaaake,”Igroanlikeawomanlookingforwaterinadesert.
Islachuckles.“Thatgood,huh?”
Dakotaplacesherhandonmyback.“Weneedalittlepick-me-upforthisgirlbeforeweheadovertothecoffeeshop.”
Whythebakeryisopenbeforethecoffeehouse,Ihavenoidea,butrightnowthisisworkinginmyfavor.
“IthinkIcanhelpyououtwiththat.”Sheworksherwaybehindthecounternearthebakerycases.“You’relookingforcake?Orbreakfast.”
“Both,”DakotaanswersasIslinkovertothefooddisplay.OnesideisfullofwhatlooklikeHotPockets,andtheothercontainsaplethoraofpastriesandyumminess.Ifloatovertothatside.
“Well,wehavesomebreakfastpies.Allhaveegginthem,andthenweadddifferentthingslikespinach,bacon,haggis.”
Iholdmyhandup.“Nohaggis,please.?.?.nohaggis.”
Islachuckles.“Aye,it’sanacquiredtaste.”
“What’sthatcake?”Iask,pointingtoaroundloafwithalmondsdecoratingthetop.
“That’sDundeecake.AScottishspecialty.IactuallywonsecondplaceattheHighlandGamesformine.ItwasthefirsttimetheyhadaDundeecakecompetition—it’susuallyjustshortbread,whichIplacedthirdin.”
“Wow,that’sincredible,”Dakotasays.“Ifthat’sthecase,we’regoingtohavetotryboth.”
“Notsofast,”IsayandraiseabrowatIsla.“What’sintheDundeecake?”
Shesmiles.“It’samuchtastierversionofAmerica’sfruitcake.Butthisismadewithcurrants,sultanas—whicharewhitegrapes—andalmonds.”
Itapmychin.“Yeah,IfeellikeIwouldlikethat.Wrapitup.”
“Andtheshortbread?”
Dakotanods.“Andtwobreakfastpies,eggandspinach.Weneedproteintoo.”
“Ineedcakefirst.Iswearthewithdrawalisreal.”
Asshepacksupeverything,Islaasks,“Didyouhavefunlastnight?”
Dakotaleansagainstthecounter,takingovertheconversation,andifIweren’tsohungoverIwouldmakeithardonher,teaseherlikeanyothergoodfriend,butIgivethegirlabreak.Also,it’snicetoseehersteppingoutofhercomfortzone.
“Wedid.Themusicaddedtothewholemood.”
“Youshouldhavedanced.”
“Ididn’thaveenoughdrinksinmetogetoutonthedancefloor.”
“Hasn’tstoppedyoubefore,”Imumble.Dakotashootsmealook,andIslumpagainstthecounter.Benice,Isilentlychastisemyself.Shehasthemoneytobuythecake.
“Maybeanothernight,then,”IslasaysasDakotahandsheracreditcard.“Nay,we’llopenatabforyou.”
“Ohh,atab,Ilikethesoundofthat,”Isay,perkingupwhileIslahandsDakotaapaperbagfullofourtreats.
“DonotletBonnieaddanythingtothetaborstartherown,”Dakotasays,lookingIsladirectlyintheeyes.“Doyouunderstand?Ifgivenaccesstosuchaprivilege,shewillrunusintotheground.Herobsessionwithcakeisborderlinelunacy.”
“Ha,asifyoudon’thavethesameproblem.”IpointmythumbtowardDakota.“Lovescake.?.?.butobsessedwithmuffins.”Iwink,andDakotaknocksmeinthestomachwithherelbow.
Okay,Ideservedthat.
Islasmilesplayfullyandwinks.“Prettyobsessedwithmuffinsmyself.”
AndohmyGod,thewayIslastaresmyfrienddown.?.?.IswearontheDundeecake,awaveofbutterflieseruptsinmystomach.
Dakota’scheeksredden,andshefumbleswiththebagasshewalksbackwardtothedoor.“Yeah,muffins.?.?.ahem,”shesays,clearingherthroat,andbestillmyheartshe’ssonervous.“Muffinsaregood.”
“Especiallywhenlicked,right?”Isay,becausewhynot,atthispoint?Alreadyinthedoghouse.
“Especially,”Islasays,laughingasshestartswipingdownthecounter.“Haveagoodday,lasses.”
“Youtoo,Isla.”IgiveherawaveandtakeDakotabythearm,usheringheroutthedoorandontothestreet.
She’ssilentaswemakeourwaytothecoffeeshop,buttheminutewe’reinsideandthedoorisshut,shepouncesonme.
“Whatthehellwasthatbackthere?”
“Whatwaswhat?”Isnagthebagfromherandsetitononeoftheshop’stwotablesasIsitdowninoneofthematchingchairs.Notevenbotheringwithanykindoffinesse,IdiveintothebagandpullouttheDundeecake.Itearoffapieceandstuffitinmymouth.“HolyHighlands,thatisdelicious.”Almondflavoringwashesovermytongue,followedbyhintsoforangeandsweetraisin.“Wantapiece?”Iholduptheroundcaketoher,butshejuststaresmedown.
“Bonnie,thatwashumiliatingbackthere.Lickingmuffins?Couldyoubeanymoreobvious?”
“Icouldhavesaidlickingvaginas,butIkeptitclassy.”ItakeanotherbiteasImeltintomyseat.IthinkI’llbehavingaloveaffairwithDundeecakewhileI’mhere.
“Thatwasnotclassy.”Shepressesherhandtoherforeheadandstartspacing.“God,whatshemustthinkofme.”
“She’sprobablythinking,‘WhencanItakethestiffblondeoutonadate?’”
“Shewasnotthinkingthat.”
“Uh,shetotallyis.Fromthewayshewaseyeingyoulastnightandtheplayfulbanterthismorning,ohyes,ma’am,she’sdefinitelywonderingwhenshecanaskyouout.”
Dakotapausesandsetsherhandsonherhips.“Youreallythinkso?”Thesmallestofsmirksplaysonherlips.AndGod,I’vemissedthatmischievoussmile,theonethatshowsjusthowexcitedsheisdespiteherbesteffortstohideit.Ihaven’tseenitinawhile,notsinceIsabellabrokeherheart.
“Yup.Onlyamatteroftimebeforeshecomesoverhereandasksoutmybeautifulbestfriend.”IholdoutapieceoftheDundeecake,andthistimeshetakesit.“Honestly,IslaisahotpieceofScottishass.”
Dakota’scheeksredden,andshesitsdownnexttome.“She’sreallypretty,isn’tshe?”
“Totally.Herfrecklesarecute.”
“Ireallylikeherfreckles,”Dakotasayswithexcitement.“Andhervoice.”
“Oh,lookatyou—you’resosmitten.”
“Notsmitten,just.?.?.”Sheshrugs,andIpushhershoulder.
“You’resmitten,andIlikeit.Thisisagoodthing.”
“Whatifshedoesaskmeout?”
“Uh,yousayyesandgooutwithher.Areyoukiddingme,Dakota?Youneedthis.Evenifit’savacationfling.You’veputyourselfinthisnondatingboxeversinceIsabellabrokeupwithyou,butnowit’stimetogetoutandopenuptonewpossibilities.Thisisimportant,thefirstdateafterthebreakup.Ifanything,itgetsyoubackinthegame,andthat’swhatIwanttosee—mygirlhappy.”
“Yeah,Iknow.”Shesighsandtakesabiteofthecake.“Shereallyispretty.”
“Totalsmokeshow,”Isay,droppingcrumbsintomymouthasItiltmyheadback.
“YouknowI’mgoingtomakeyourlifealivinghellwheneverRowanisaround,though,afterthatwholebakeshopscene.”
“What?Why?Thecircumstancesarecompletelydifferent.”Istandupfromthetable,walkovertothetwocoffeethermoses,andstartmakingcoffee.Howthisplaceisstillopenwithonlytwooptions,Ihavenoidea.“Idon’tlikeRowan,butyoulikeIsla.”
“Oh,please,”Dakotascoffs.“Youcan’ttellmeyoudon’tfindhimattractive.”
“Imean,yeah,isheallbrawnyandbeautifultolookat?Sure.Butthatonlytakesyousofar.Youneedaconnection,andtheonlythingconnectingusisstubbornness.”
“Markmywords,Ithinkyoutwoaregoingtohookup.?.?.multipletimesbeforeweleaveScotland.”
“Ha!Never.Notinterested.Plus,I’mnotheretohookup—I’mheretofindmypassion.”
“MaybeyourpassionisKiltyMcGrumpyshire,andyoudon’tevenknowit.”
Doubtful.
“Isthatthethirdtourbusthat’scomeintoCorsekellytoday?”Iask,standingfrommychair.Iwalkovertothepropped-opendoorandstaredownthetourists,whodon’tevenlookourway.“Whyaren’ttheycomingintogetsomecoffee?AretheyreallyjusthereforthePenisStone?”
“Itisoddthatwehaven’tseenonepersontodaybesidesafewlocals,”Dakotasays,furrowingherbrow.“Justlikeyesterday.Makesmefeeluneasy.ThesignblatantlysaysCOFFEE.It’sbeenadrizzlyday—whydon’ttheywantanythingtowarmupwith?”
“ExactlywhatI’msaying.”Itossmyhandsupintheairandheadbackintotheshop,whereIsitatoneoftheuneventables.“Idon’tthinkIcantakesixmonthsofthisboredom.Atleastyou’regettingworkdone.I’mjustsittinghereonmyasstakingcareerassessmentquizzesthathaveturnedouttobemoredepressingthananything.”
“Whataretheysaying?”Dakotaasks,shuttinghercomputer.
“ThatIhavegreatorganizationalskillsandshouldbeanassistant.”
“Oof,that’sharsh.”
“Tellmeaboutit.LastthingIwantedtoheartoday.”Groaning,Islouchinthechairandglancearoundthebleakspace.“Finellaisaniceladyandall,butcouldsheaddsomecharmtothisplace?Anythingtolivenuptheseserialkiller–whitewalls.Lookatthesetables:it’sliketheywereconstructedbysomeonejustlearningtouseahammer.Andthefloors,Imean—”
“Ahhhhhhhhhhh!”
“MotherofJesus!”Iscream,clutchingmyheart,myeyessnappingtotheopendoor.Igasp.Agoatstandsonthethreshold.Whattheever-loving—
“Ahhhhhhhhhhh!”itscreamsagain,startlingmerightoutofmychairandontothefloorwithathump.
“Satan’sbeast,”Isay,scramblingtomyfeetandholdingoneofthedilapidatedchairsinfrontofme.“Whydoesitsoundlikeahuman?”Ibrandishthechairinthegoat’sdirection.“Back,you.Back.Hee-ah,hee-ah.”
Butthegoatdoesn’tmove.Itjustscreamsagain,thistimewithabitofamoantoit,andI’llbehonest—thesoundmakesme90percentscaredformylifeand10percenthorny.
Itstepsintotheshop,andIbackupagainstthewall,chairoutinfrontofme,readyforanysuddenmovements.
“Dakota,dosomething.Itclearlywantstocommunicatewithus.”
Dakotaisuponthecounter,armswrappedaroundhertucked-inlegs.“Whatdoyouwantmetodo?”
“Talktohim,seewhathe’scomefor.”
“DoyouthinkIdevelopedmagicalgoat-speakingpowersovernight?”
“Maybe,”Isay,cluckingathimnow,buthejuststepsdeeperintotheshop.“OhGod,he’sgoingtomakethisathing.ScaringtheAmericanswithhisscreeches.Icansenseit.”
“IwonderifthisisFergus,”Dakotasays.
“Who’sFergus?”
“Thetowngoat.Centuriesago,duringoneoftheScottishuprisings,Corsekellywasabouttobeattackedwhenagoatcamescreamingintotown,wakingeveryoneup.TheywereabletoescapebeforetheywerekilledandthenrebuildCorsekellyaftertheenemiesburneddowntheirhomes.Fergusisadirectdescendentofthatherogoat.Didn’tyouseethegoatstatueoutinthetownsquare?”
“No,Iwastryingtodriveonthewrongsideoftheroadwhenwearrived.Wasn’treallysightseeing.”IslowlystartinchingclosertoDakota,keepingthechairheldupasabarrier.“Soyou’retellingmethisgoatisidolizedbythetown?”
“Giventhatalotofthebusinessesarenamedafteragoat,Iwouldsayyes.”
“Whichmeansweneedtohandlethisextractiondelicately.Gotit.Well,Ivolunteeryou.Animalslikeyoumore;theycansenseyourabilitytoconnectwiththem.”
“Sincewhen?”
“Sincethatgoldfishatthepetstorefollowedyourfinger.”
“Itwastryingtoeatmyfinger.”
“Doesn’tmatter,thegoldfishthoughtyouweregoodenoughtoeat.Sogoahead;don’tbenervous.I’msure—”
“Fergus,oldlad,thereyouare,”Lachlansays,stridingintothecoffeehouse,followedcloselybyLeith.Shirtlessandwearingmatchingkilts,theybothgivehimapatandthentakeinthehorrifiedlooksonourfaces.“Awright,lasses.Everythingokay?”
“TheyseemtobescaredofFergus,”Leithsays,strokingthenow-silentgoatonthebackoftheneck.
“Scaredofaweegoat?”
CarefullyIsetthechairdown,notwantingtoprovokethebeast.“Hestartleduswithhisboisteroushello.”
LachlanandLeithbothlaugh,andIshamelesslywatchastheirthickpecsanddefinedabsbounceupanddown.TheMurdachshavegoodgenes,that’sfordamnsure.
“Aye,hesureknowshowtoannouncehimself,”Leithsays,pattingFergusontheback.“Buthecomesfromanimpeccablelineagethatsavedthisverytown.Wewouldbelostwithouthim.Backin2001,hisfather’slifewasthreatenedbytheoutbreakoffoot-and-mouthdisease,butitdidn’tspreadtotheHighlands,thankfully.Wewerenervous,though—itwreakedhavoconEngland’sagriculture.”
“Well,thankgoodnessforthat,”IsayasDakotahopsoffthecounter.
“Wantsomecoffee?”sheasks,actingasifshewasn’tjustterrorizedbyafarmanimal.
Leithholdsuphishand.“We’reabouttogodoatrainingvideoforourfollowers.Butthankyou.WewerejuststoppingbytograbFergus—he’sacelebrityonourvideos—andtoseeifyoulasseswantedtogoonahikewithusonSunday.PicnicupatCorsekellyCastle,likeImentionedinthepub.”
“Trainingvideo?”Iask.
“Aye,personaltraining.TheTrainingKilts,”Lachlansays.“Ifyoueverseeushoppingaroundtowncarryinglogsandactinglikefools,it’sforatrainingvideo.Weselltrainingpackageswithaccompanyingkilts—andwe’rebuildingquitethefanbase.Whichremindsme,Dakota,wouldwebeabletopickyourbrainaboutsomenewgraphicsforourwebsite?”
“Ofcourse.Anytime.We’re,uh,notverybusyhere.”
“Thecoffeeshopisnevertoobusy.Shame,”Leithsighs.“Stuartputhisheartintothisstore.”
“WasitdifferentbeforeStuartleft?”Iask,surprised.
“Aye.Stuartusedtosellthesedeliciousbutterieswithhomemadejam.Hewouldselloutbynoon.That’sallitwas—simplecoffee,butteries,andhisclassicstorytelling.Wordgotround,andtourbuseswouldclearhimout.Hebuiltquitethehappylife.Thenheretired,andFinellacouldn’tkeepup.I’mgladthey’reonholibags.Theyneedit.”
“Butteries?Whatarethose?”Iask.
“Ehm,likeaflattenedcroissant,”Leithanswers.“Traditionalbutteriesarehardtocomeby.They’resupposedtobemadewithbutterandlard,butthemassproducersstartedusingpalmoil,andthey’rejustnotthesame.”
“Theysoundgood.”
“Theylooklikehell.LotofScotscallthemthe‘roadkillpastry,’becausetheylooklikethey’vebeenrunoverbyacar,buthaveonetoastedwithsomejeely,andI’lltellya,you’reinheaven.”
“I’msadhedoesn’tmakethemanymore.”
Leithsighsandgivesthecoffeehouseanotherlook.“Rememberwhenthisplaceusedtobefull?MaybewhenFinellagetsback,she’llhavearenewedspirit.”
“Hopefully,”Lachlanagreesandthenclapshishandstogether—promptingFergustoscreamagain.Theboyslaugh,whileDakotaandIclutchourhearts.“So,Sunday.?.?.areyoulassesupforahike?”
IglanceatDakota,whosmilesandshrugs.“Sure,”Isay.“Wereallydon’thaveanyplans.Shouldwebringsomething?”
“Islaispackingthefood.Justbringsomewaterforyourself.Meetyouathalftenatthebakeshop.”Lachlangivesusawave,andthenbothboystakeoff.
Oncethey’reoutofearshot,IturntoDakotaandgiveheraplayfulgrin.“Hearthat?Islaispackingusfood.Maybeshe’llletyoutastehermuffin.”
“Growup.”Dakotachucksarolled-upnapkinatme.
“Whatonearthareyoudoing?”Dakotasaysassheshutsthedoortothecottage.
“Damnyou,dough!”Iscream.Iflopbackonthekitchenfloorandsitcross-legged,myhandsextendedsoIdon’tgetanyofthebutter-lardmixturethat’scakedonmyhandsanywhere.
“Uh.?.?.whatishappening?”
“I’mtryingtomakebutteries,”Isay,justaboutreadytothrowafit.
“Isthatwhyyouwantedtoleavetheshopearly?”
“Yes,”Ianswer,exasperated.“Ifoundasimplerecipeonline,wenttotheMillMarket,whereShonahelpedmecollecttheingredients,andthenIcamebackhere,confidentthatyou’dbecominghometofresh,warmbutteries.”Itossmyarmtowardthepileofmeltingdoughonthecounter.“Butthatismythirdattempt,andIhonestlythinkImightthrowitdownthewell.”
“Whyareyoutryingtomakebutteries?”
“Idon’tknow.ThewayLachlanandLeithweretalkingaboutthem,Ithoughtitwouldbefuntogetdomestic,youknow?Imakeboxedcakeallthetime;whynottrysomethingnew?”
“Bonnie.”Shewalksoverandsquatsdownsowe’reeyetoeye.“YouknowIloveyou,butboxedcakeiscompletelydifferentfromahomemadepastry.”
“Uh,Idotwo-tieredboxedcakes.That’sspecialandchallenging.”
“Yes,butitalsoonlyrequiresyoutomeasurecorrectlyandstir.Itdoesn’tcallforyeastandwhatevergoopisalloveryourhands.”
Iglancedown.“Ithasbeenslightlymoredifficult.”
“Icantell.”Shesweetlyrubsherhandovermyshoulder.“It’ssonicethatyouweretryingsomethingnew,though.”
“Yeah,Iguessit’ssomethingnew.”Istarttoperkup.“Hey,lookatmesteppingoutofmycomfortzone.”
“I’mveryproudofyou.”
Irisetomyfeetandstareatthemessonthecounter.
“Youknow,IthinkI’mgoingtomakethismymission.I’mgoingtomasterthebutterywhileI’mhere.AndI’mgoingtobringitbacktoAmericaandopenabutteryfoodtruck,withhomemadecurrantjam.Andpeoplefromalloverthecountryaregoingtocometomyfoodtruckandaskmetobuttertheirbuttery,andthenmoviesetswillcatchwindofmybutteriesandhiremytrucktocomefeedtheirteam,andwhentheassholeswhofiredmecometothetruck,I’lltellthemIjustranoutandthatmaybeiftheyhadn’tbeensorudetome,Iwouldbeabletofindsomeextrasinthebackforthem.”
“Wow,spentsometimethinkingaboutthis?”Dakotachuckles.
“No,italljustflashedinfrontofme.”
“You’reridiculous,butIloveyou.”
Igotomydoughonthecounterandpokeit.“ItjustkeepsmeltingandIdon’tknowwhy,butI’mgoingtofigureitout.Whoknows,maybeIcanbringsometothepicnicthisSunday.Surpriseeveryone.”
“I’msurethey’dappreciateit.”
“Okay,”Isay,feelingrenewed.Icandothis.I’vegottochannelmyinnerbakingskills.
ThistimeSunday,I’mgoingtohavequitethesurpriseforournewfriends.
“How’sitcoming?”Dakotaasks,steppingoutofherroom,emptybowlinhand.
“Butteriescangotohell.”
“Thatwell,huh?”
“NowondertheScotscallthemthe‘roadkillpastry’—that’swheretheybelong,nexttoalltheotherlonelycarcasses.I’mafailure.”
Istaredownatmycreation.Flatasapancake,withbutteroozingoutthesides,itisverydispleasingtotheeyes.
“Don’tgiveup,Bonnie.Iknowyoucandothis.”
“Yourenthusiasmisonlyirritatingme.”
“Fine.Yousuckatlife.”
Ilookupatmybestfriend,mybrowfurrowed.“Hey,now,thatwasjustmean.”
“Toughlove,baby.”
“OhmyGod,Bonnie,isthecottageburningdown?”Dakotasaysasshefliesthroughthefrontdoor,stillholdingherkeysfromclosingupthecoffeeshop.Shewavesahandinfrontofherface,clearingoutthesmoke.
“No,”Igroan,feelingdefeatedasIsitonthefloorwithmybackagainstthefridge,anovenmittononehand.“Justthebutteriesgoingupinflames.”
Shecoughsandpicksupabook,thentriestowavethesmokeoutofthecottagewithit.“Whathappened?”
“Ithinktoomuchlard.Somethingdrippedandburnedintheoven,andnowit’ssmokingmeout.Ithinkit’sasign.Butterandlarddon’twantmeanywherenearthem.”
“Howdidtheycomeout?”
Istandandbringthebakingsheetovertoher.Congealedintoonegiantliquidmess,the“butteries”areonceagainmeltedandburned.Theydefinitelylooklikeroadkill,butnotinthecharmingwayI’msureLachlanandLeithmeant.
“Huh.?.?.well,thosedon’tlookappetizing.”
“Thankyouforpointingouttheobvious.”
“Keeptrying.”Shegivesmyshoulderapat.“Makebutteriesyourbitch.”
Hmm.?.?.
“Thinkthey’drespondtosomegoodold-fashionedtyingupandwhipping?Haven’ttriedthatyet.”
“Youneverknowuntilyoutry,”Dakotasaysonalaugh.
“I’mabouttobecometheirmadam.Safeword.?.?.‘boabystone.’”CHAPTEREIGHT
ROWAN
AuthorsIcan’tstandwhoaremakingmedothis:One.
Lookingforwardtoamuch-neededbreakfromtheblondetornadowhospunintomylife.Also,waitingdesperatelyforShonatorestockCurlyWurlysatthemarket.
“Whatarewewaitingfor?”Iask,glancingaroundthegroupandadjustingtherucksackonmyback.“Everyone’shere.”
Lachlan,Leith,andIslaexchangeglances.Withinasecond,IknowtheMurdachshaveplannedsomethingandthey’retryingtodecidewhoshouldbreakthenewstome.
“Yourturn,”LeithsaystoLachlan.“ItoldhimaboutHamishandtheelectricoutletnearthesinkheneededtofix.”
LachlanlooksatIsla.“ItoldhimaboutFerguspoopinginhisshoes.”
“Thiswasn’tmyidea,”Islasays,crossingherarmsoverherchest.
LeithgrumblesandturnstoLachlan.“Rock,paper,scissors.Sevenoutofnine,losertellshim.”
“Sevenoutofnine?That’sabsurd,”Islasays.“Dothreeoutoffive.”
“Dosuddendeath,orIkickallofyourasses,”Isay,growingirritated.
“Evenmine?”Islaasks,innocenceinherusuallysteelyeyes.
“Aye,evenyou.”
“Fine.”LeithandLachlanholdouttheirhands.TheycountoffandLeithwinswithrock.
Lachlangroansandisopeninghismouthtomakehisconfessionwhenavoicebehindmecallsout,“We’rehere.”
IturntofindDakotaandBonniewalkinguptous,eachofthemcarryingawaterbottleattheirside.WhenBonnielockseyeswithme,Iseemythoughtsmirroredinherexpression.
Whatisshedoinghere?
Whatishedoinghere?
“Sorrywe’relate,”Dakotasays.“Bonnielostherothershoe,andwecouldn’tfindit.Somehowitendedupinherbed.”SheflashesasmileatIsla.
“You’rerightontime,”Islasays,walkinguptoDakotaandgivingherahug.IwatchthesurprisedexpressiononDakota’sfacesoftenintohappiness.IslaquicklyhugsBonnieaswellandclearsherthroat.“TheboysandIweretalking,andsinceyoulassesarenewtotheroute,we’regoingtobuddyup.”
Uh,wedidnotdiscussthat.
“LeithandLachlanaregoingtoleadtheway,”Islacontinues.“Dakota,youcanbuddyupwithmeandwe’llgosecond,sincetheterrainisalittlerocky.And,Bonnie,youcanwalkwithRowan.He’ssturdy,soifyouslip,justgrabanyofhismuscles.”
“Includingtheoneinhispants,”Leithsays,andIslaslapshimonthebackofthehead.
“Ignorehim.”Leaningagainstthebakeshoparetwohikingsticks.Islahandsonetoeachgirl.“Theseshouldhelpduringthesteepparts.Itwillbechallenging,butIpromiseit’lltotallybeworthit,especiallysinceIpackedsomefreshshortbreadforusforwhenwegettothecastle.”
“Soundsgreat,”Dakotasays,lookingfarmoreexcitedthanBonnie,who’sstaringdaggersatmeasshegripsherhikingstick.
HowconvenientthatIgetmatchedupwithBonnie.Thissituationsmellsofmeddlingfriendswhothinktheyknowbetterthanme.
Islawavesahandatherbrothers.“LeithandLachlan,leadtheway.”
Theytakeoff,andweallfileinlinethroughanalleybetweenthestonebuildings,twobytwobytwo,likeaherdofhairycoosmakingourwayuptowardthecastle.
Atfirst,BonnieandIdon’tsayanythingtoeachother.
It’sawkward.
Uncomfortable.
AndthisisnothowIplannedonspendingmySunday.
Meanwhile,LeithandLachlanarelaughingupahead,whileDakotaandIslaseemtobedeepinconversation.
Oncewemakeitoutoftownandstartontothefootpaththatleadstothecastle,IstarttofeelBonniebrushingagainstmeandgrumblingsomethingunderherbreath.Ignoringher,Icontinuetowalk,tryingtoatleastenjoythesilence.That’suntil.?.?.
“Canyoustophoggingthetrailwithyourmammothbody?”Bonniesays,shovingmewithhershoulder,butgivenoursizedifference,shedoesn’tmovemeaninch.
“I’mjustwalking.”
“You’remanspreading.”
“Howisthatpossible?”
“Idon’tknow—youtellme.You’retheonewalkinglikeaNeanderthalwithhisarmsallpuffedout,knockingmeintothebushes.”
“I’mnotmanspreading;thisisjustthesizeofmybody.”
“You’retoobig.”
Isnort.“I’veneverhadthatcomplaintbefore.”
“Ugh,Ishouldhaveseenthatcoming.”
“Forsomeonewho’sinaforeigncountrywithaplushjob,youseemtobecrankyallthetime.”
“I’mnotcranky,just.?.?.irritated.”Sheblowsoutalongbreath.
“Yougetirritatedthateasily?”
“Well,yes,butyourmanspreadingisnottheonlyreasonI’mirritated.”
“I’mnotmanspreading,”Irepeat,glancingdownather.Herponytailswaysfromsidetosidewitheachofhersteps,andshelookscuteinherleggingsandtanktop,ajackettiedaroundherwaist.Ihalfexpectedhertobeoneofthosegirlswhoshowsupforahikeinheels,butshe’snot.Whenshedoesn’tsayanythingafterthat,IfigureImightaswellpry.Thisisalonghike,andwalkingitwithsomeonewhoissilentisgoingtobepainfullyawkward.Ihatetoadmitit,but.?.?.eventhoughIenjoysilence,IalsohatewhenIcanfeelpeoplearemad.TakesawayfromthepeaceI’mtryingtocapturewhilehiking.“Whyareyouirritated?”
“Doyoureallycare?”Thehostilityisclearinhervoice,butIcanalsosenseshewantstogetthisoffherchest.Contrarytowhatshemustthinkaboutme,I’mnotacompleteasshole.
“Tryme.”
Shedoesn’tanswerrightawaybutinsteadfallssilent,thecrunchofthegroundbeneathourfeettheonlysoundeitherofusismaking.
Finallyshesays,“Iwastryingtomakesomethingtobringtothepicnictoday.Youknow,contributetothegroup,sincetheMurdachsweresokindtoinviteus.”
“Okay.?.?.”
“Itdidn’tgoasplanned.”
“Messup?”
“Sixtimes.”Shesighsheavily.“Sixfreakingtimes,andIswear,onthesixthIalmostburneddownthecottage.Dakotacamehometosmokefilteringoutthefrontdoorandwindows.”
“Whatwereyoutryingtomake?”
“Butteries.”
“Butteries?”Iask.Haven’thadthosesince.?.?.well,sinceDastoppedworkingattheshop.“Whywereyoutryingtomakethose?”
“LachlanandLeithcametothecoffeeshoptheotherdaytoinviteusonthehike.TheywerealsolookingforFergus,whoannouncedhimselfwithanear-piercingscreamminutesbeforetheyarrived.”
“Fergushasasetofpipesonhim.”
Shechuckles,andthesoundactuallyputsmeatease.Foramoment,Ifeelthetensiondissipatingbetweenus.“Hesoundslikeanactualhuman,andit’sstartling.IthoughtsomepsychopathicBoabyStone–lovingtouristwascomingtomurderus.”
Thatmakesmegrin.“We’reusedtohimbynow.”
“NotsureI’llevergetusedtothat.”Shetripsoverarock,andIgrabherarm,steadyingher.Sheglancesupatme,andthoseeyesnearlygutmeasshesays,“Thanks.”
Clearingmythroat,Iquicklylookaway.“Sure.”
“Anyway,theyweretellingusaboutwhattheshopwaslikebeforeyourdadretired—howitwasalwaysfullofcustomers,thankstothebutterieshe’dbake.”
“Aye,”Isay.AnditcouldstillbefullifDawasn’tsostubborn.“He’dselloutbynoon,thankstoallthetourists.Hestartedmakingaspecialbatchforthelocalsandopeninganhourearlier,justsotheycouldgettheirfillbeforethebusesstartedrollingthrough.”Irunmyhandovermyjaw.“Ican’ttellyouthelasttimeIhadabuttery.”Iliftupatreebranchforustoduckunderasthepathstartstobecomemorecumbersome.Theothersarefartherupahead,spacedevenly,anditdoesn’tbotherme.It’skindofnicehangingbackandwalkingwithBonnie,thoughI’dnevertellherthat.She’dgloattoomuch—IknowIwould.
“Well,Iwashopingtohavesomefortoday,butit’sbeenanabsolutedisastertryingtomakethem.”Hervoiceisfullofdefeat,anditmakesmewonderifthere’smoretoherfailedattemptsatmakingbutteries,somethingaddingtohermelancholy.“JustaddittothelistofthingsIcan’tdo.”
“Howbadwasit?”
“Bad.”
“Wereyouusingmyda’srecipe?”Iask.
“No,Ifoundoneontheinternet.”
“Mistakenumberone,lass.Onlinerecipesdon’thavethespecialtouch.”
“Well,Iwasn’tabouttocallupyourdadwhilehe’sonholi-boobies.”
“Holibags.”Iletoutthesmallestofchuckles.Ifeelherglancemyway,butIkeepmygazeonthepath,notwantingtoshowherthatIactuallythoughtthatwasfunny.“MawkeepsarecipebookinthecottageforguestswhowanttotrysometraditionalScottishrecipeswhilethey’rehere.Butteriesandredcurrentjamareonthefirstpage,Ibelieve.”
“That’sgoodtoknow.Although,givenmytrackrecord,IthinkIwouldscrewupyourdad’srecipetoo.”
“Thehardestpartisfoldinginallthebutter.Butonceyouhavethetechniquedown,yougetusedtoit.”
“Haveyoumadethem?”sheasks.
Alargerockabouttwofeethighblocksourpath,andIliftmyselfontoitfirst,duckingoutofthewayofanotherbranch.IturntoassistBonnie,butshealreadyhasonefootupontherock,hoistingherselfup.Whenshestands,shesetsherhandsonherhipsandglancesaround.We’restillunderheavytreecoveratthispoint,butitwillclearoutsoon,andI’llbeinterestedtoseeherreactionwhenthepristinevalleycomesintoview.“Yeah,Iusedtohelpmedamake’emearlyinthemorning.”Iletoutaheavybreath,rememberingthosemornings.
Takeprideineverythingyoudo,son.
Themenialtasks,theonesnoonewantstodo,thosearethetasksyoushouldalwaystakeontohelpthetown.
Rememberwhoyouare.You’reaMacGregor,andwetakecareofourown.
Throwingpotteryisn’thelpingthistown—it’sawasteoftimebetterspentsomewhereelse.
Thoseearlymorningsheldsomegoodmoments,butmostofthemsitsourinmygut—especiallysinceheretiredquicklyandleftMawinthelurchwiththeshop,essentiallyturningawaytouristsandgoingagainsteverythinghe’deverinstilledinme.
Nottomentionthefactthathewouldn’tletmeanywherenearthekitchentohelpoutMaw.
Hell.?.?.Ican’teventhinkaboutthatnow.
NotwhenI’mtryingtowashawaythosepainfulmemoriesasIhikeupthishill.?.?.
“Wow,Ihadnoclue.Youmusthaveagoodrelationshipwithyourdad,then.”Ifonlysheknew.“Myparentswantedmetogotocollege;ItoldthemIdidn’tneedtoandthatIwouldfindwhatIwaslookingforinLosAngeles.Funnythingis,Iwantedtogotocollege.”Shepauses,hervoicealittleshaky,andIwonderifshe’sgoingtocry.Pleasedon’tcry.Iwouldn’tknowwhattodo.Holdher?Comforther?BeforeIcanmakeadecision,shecontinues.“IwantedtosurprisemyparentsandtellthemIactuallywasacceptedintocollege,buttherejectionlettersrolledin,onerightaftertheother.Icouldhavegonetocommunitycollege,butIwastooproudforthat.IdecidedIdidn’tneedcollegeandmovedtoLosAngeleswithDakota.”Shesighs.“Ibarelyspeakwithmyparentsnow.IfItrulyneededthem,they’dbethereforme,butIknowthey’reashamedofme.”
“Iknowshamewell,”IsaybeforeIcanstopmyself.
“Really?Butitseemslikeyougetalongsowellwithyourparents.”
Well,thatjustgoestoshow—youcanneverjudgeafamilyfromtheoutside.Whenyoudivedeep,youmightfindyearsuponyearsofpain.
Wantingtoavoidanyseriousconversationaboutmyparents,Istaysilentandcontinuetopushbackbranchesaswemakeourwayupthehill.We’restartingtogettothesteeppart,wherethepathnarrowsandwe’llneedtofiletogetherintoaline.It’sthemostgruelingpartofthehike,butwellworthit.
“Mightwanttodrinksomewater.It’sgoingtogettoughinafew,”Isay.
“Oh.?.?.okay.”
Andjustlikethat,silencefallsuponusonceagain.
“Takemyhand,”Isay,leaningoverthelastboulderBonniehastoclimb.
Shedoesn’tevensecond-guessitthistime.Instead,sheslipshersmallhandintomine,andIhelppullherup.Whenshemakesitovertherock,sheletsoutabigbreathanddropsmyhand.
“Thanks,”shesaysandthenturnstolookoutoverthehillwe’vejustclimbed.
Greensurroundsthepanoramiclandscape,peaksandvalleyscoveredinfreshlybloomedpurpleheather.Therichblueskyisdottedwithpuffywhiteclouds,thoughdarkeroneslurkinthedistance,indicatinganimpendingstorm.I’llneedtokeepaneyeonthat.Alightwindpicksup,swirlingaroundus,causingherponytailtowhipinfrontofmeandofferingabriefcool-offfromoursteepascent
“Wow,it’sgorgeous,”shesays,handsonherhipsasshepeersdownthehill.“Ican’tbelieveweclimbedthat.”
I’mfascinatedwithherreactionasshetakesintherollingscenerysprawledoutinfrontofus.There’ssomethingtobesaidaboutcatchingsomeone’sreactionwhentheyexperiencemyhomelandforthefirsttime.
Awe.
Completeawe.
Iglanceouttowardthelochandthevalley,andIhavetobegratefulinthismoment.I’vetrainedmyselftoclimbthishillandtobegratefulratherthanresentful.ImightnotbeonthepathIplannedformyself,butIhavetoappreciatetheairIbreathe,theheartbeatinmychest,andthechancetokeeptakingonestepatatime.
WhenBonnieturnsaround,herbrowknitstogether.“Wheredideveryonego?”
Ilookbehindme,onlytofindourfriendsgone.“Myguess,exploring.”Inodtowardthecastleruins,aboutonehundredfeetfromtheactualfootpath.“Wanttocheckitout?”
“Yeah,Ido.”
Ileadhertowardthefrontofthecastle,wheremostofthestoneisstillintact.Threeofthefourwallsarepartiallystanding,thecrumblingstonenowhalfwayburiedunderthegrassandsoilaroundthebase.Anywoodthatwasusedforthedoororarchitectureislonggone,andinitsplaceisafaintresemblanceofacastlewithanarchinthefront,mossclimbingupthesides,andaceilingopentothesky.
“Didakingandqueenusetolivehere?”
Ichuckleandshakemyhead.“Nay,lairdandlady.Theyoccupiedthecastle,butwhentheSouthcametoattackCorsekelly,theyfledandneverreturned.”
“WasthatwhenFergus’sancestoralertedthetown?”
Inod.“Yes.Thetownwasburneddownaswellasthecastle.Thesouthernersdidn’tfindthelandworthyoftheirtimeandmovedon.Neitherdidthelairdandthelady,andtheyabandonedtheplaceafterseeingtheruinedtown.Buttothetownspeople,thiswashome,sotheycamebackandrebuilt.”
Wewalkthroughthestone-archentranceandpastafewfallenstonescoveredbygrassandmoss.DakotaandIslaareofftotheright,theirvoicestrailingsoftly,whileLachlanandLeithareperformingtheirtypicalroutinewheneverwecomeuphere.Abouldersitsbehindtheruins,aboutfivefeetwideandsixfeettall.Theycompetetoseewhocanscaleitthefastest.They’veshotanentirevideoonit.
Fuckingeejits.
Thecloudsoverheadblockthesunasthewindpicksup.JustasIthought:astormiscoming.Iglanceovermyshoulderandtakeinthedistance,tryingtocalculatethekindoftimewehaveleftuphere.Ashiveroffearclimbsupthebackofmyneckatthosedarkclouds.Memoriesflashbeforeme.
Painfulmemories.
Life-alteringmemories.
“Ican’timaginehowtheywouldn’twanttocomebacktothis.It’sbeautiful,”Bonniesays,knockingmeoutofmyrevelry.
“Sometimespeoplecan’tseethevalueinwhat’sstandingrightinfrontofthem,”Isay,andhereyesflashtomine.
Thesmallestofsmirkspullsonthecornerofherlips.“AreyousayingIdon’tvalueyou,Rowan?”
“Nay.”Ishakemyhead.
“Hmm,Ithinkyouare.Andyouknow,it’sbeennicenotfightingwithyou.”
“It’sbeenokay,”Itease,andshebumpshershoulderagainstmine,pullingmeallthewaybackintothepresent.
“Admitit,I’mnotasbadasyouthoughtIwas.”
“Ineverthoughtyouwerebad—juststubbornandfartootalkative.”
“Notallofuswanttocommunicatelikecavemen,”shecounters,workingherwaythroughtheruins.Itakeamomenttoadmireher.Herhandtrailsoverthemossystone,andasmileliftsupthecornersofhermouth.Hell,shetrulyisbeautiful,andthatsmile,whenit’sdirectedatme,makesmystomachdancewithnerves.Ican’trememberthelasttimeIhadthatfeeling.Ifever.
“Isavemywords—makesabiggerimpact.”
“Makesyouseemlikeanasshole.”Ijustshruginresponse,andsherollshereyes.“Tellme,howmanytimeshaveyoubeenuphere?”
“MorethanIcancount.Sometimeswe’llhikeuphere,allfourofus,andnotsayasinglething—wejustgetlostinourownthoughts.”Manytimes,dangerousthoughts.
“Icouldseehowthatwouldbesoothing.”Shemovespastastackofstonethat’spiledinthecenterofwhatIimaginewasoncethecastle’smainlivingspace.Ionceheardthestackwasfromtheturretwheretheladywouldhidefromthelaird.Apparently,theyweren’tthekindofcouplewhoweredeeplyinlove.Maybethat’swhytheydidn’tstay.“Soyou’veknowntheMurdachssinceyouwereyoung,I’massuming.”Inod.“HaveyoueverhadacrushonIsla?”
Irubthesideofmyjaw.“Aye.Wedatedforafewmonths.”
“Seriously?”sheasks,eyeswide.“Wereyouherlastboyfriend?”
Ishakemyhead.“No,thatwasanunfortunatemaninatowntwentymilesnorth.Afterafewmonthsofdatinghim,shecameuptoLeith,Lachlan,andmeandannouncedthatshewasmoreinterestedindatingMac’ssisterthanhim.”
Bonnielaughs.“IwishDakota’dhadarealizationlikethat.Instead,shemetIsabella,herex,throughajobIhad.IsabellaandIwouldhavetoworktogetheralotwhenourbosseswerecollaboratingonamakeupline.Shewasveryopenabouthersexuality,andsheflirtedshamelesslywithDakota.IttookDakotaahotsecondtounderstandit,butshewasdevelopingfeelingsforher.IsabellawasnotonlyherfirstbutalsothegirlwhomadeDakotarealizeshe’sgay.”Bonniepicksuparockfromthegroundandtossesitinherhand.“IfIeverrunintoIsabellaonthestreet,I’dgiveherapieceofhermind.Sheplayedgames,manipulatedDakota,andreallymessedherup.”
Notsurewhattosay,Istaysilent.
Bonniekeepstalking,andI’mnotsurprised—sheseemstobeapersonwho,onceshestartstalking,doesn’tstop.
“I’vehadmyfairshareofboyfriends,buttheynevermentallymessedwithme.Mostly,theywerejustidiots.Immature,notreadyforarelationship.Thenagain,notsureIwaseither.”Shesighs.“Youdon’tneedtohearthis.”Shepatsherstomachandlooksaroundtheruins.Itseemslikeshe’ddoanythingtoavoideyecontactwithme.“Where’sthefood?Thisgirlishungry.”
I’mabouttocallouttoIslawhenIseehercomethroughanarch,Dakotaatherside.“DidIhearsomeone’shungry?”sheasks.
“Starving,”Bonniesays.
Islalowersherbackpackandunzipsit.SheandDakotaunfoldablanket,andwe’realltakingseatsjustasLeithandLachlanjoinus.Islapassesaroundsomehamsandwiches,andLeithhandsoutdrinks.Together,wefeast,andbythecompanionablesilencethatsettlesoverus,Icantellthehikehasworkedupeveryone’sappetite.
“Dakotawastellingmeyouweretryingtobakesomebutteries,”Islafinallysays,turningtoBonnie.
“Youwere?”Leithasks,lookingfartooeager.
“Yeah,Iwasgoingtomakesometobringonthehiketosurpriseyouguys,butIfailedmiserably.Sixattempts,andtheywereallepicfails.”
“YoushouldhaveRowanhelpyou,”Lachlansuggestswithaslygrin.
“Iheardheknowshowtomakeatastybuttery,”Bonniesays.
“Youactuallyspoketoher?”Leithasks,thefuckingeejit.
“Hespokealot,”Bonniesays.“Atotalchatterbox.Smokewascomingoutofhisearsfromalltheoverthinking.Fascinatingspectacle,actually.”Shesmirksatme,andhell.?.?.Iliketheteasing.
“I’veseenthesmokebefore,”Leithsays.“Butthat’sonlybeenwhenhe’stryingtosolveasimplemathproblem.Reallytakesitoutofthebigguy.”
“What’seighttimessix?”IaskLeithrightbeforetakingabiteofmysandwich.
Leith’seyesnarrow,hissmarmysmileturningintoafrown.“Och,youknowIfailedmiserablywithmytimestables.Waytohitmewhereithurts.”
“It’strue,”Lachlanjoinsin.“Healwaysgothissixes,sevens,andeightsmixedup.”
“Theyareentirelytooclosetogether.”
“Soaretheothernumbers,”Isay,andourlittlecirclelaughs.
Ifeellighteratthatcollectivelaugh.Ididn’trealizehowmuchIneededthisreprieve,thiscamaraderie,untiljustnow.Thingshavebeenheavywithmyparents.I’vefeltangry,frustrated.?.?.hell,embarrassed,sinceIdidn’tevenknowtheywereleaving.Andbeingouthere,withmyfriends—oldandnew—easestheacheinmychest.Givesmeafreshbreathofairtomylungs.IglanceoveratBonnie,andoureyesmeetforabriefsecondbeforesheturnsawayandtakesabiteofhersandwich.I’lladmitthatonelittleglancedidalotformeaswell.Justinthelasttenminutes,itfeelslikesomethinghasshiftedbetweenus:theangerseemstohavedissipated,andabondisforming.Abondthatmightdevelopintosomethingmore.Mystomachdips.Idon’tknow—Icouldbewrong
“Getthefuckdownfromthere.Thestormisrollingin!”Iyell,mypatiencewearingthinasIlookupatBonnie,standingontopofanouterwallthatoverlooksthevalley.Afewpebbleshavecrumbledunderherfeetalready.
“Wheredoyougetofftellingmewhattodo?”Bonnieshoutsdownatme.
“I’mnotcarryingyourbodydownthisdamnhill.That’swhereIgetoff.”
“Whosaidyou’regoingtohavetocarryme?”
Fuckingirritatingwoman.
Acrackofthunderrumblesthroughthehills,sendingmyheartbeatintoafrenzy
Fuck.?.?.
Panicstartstoovertakeme.
Therestofthegroupdecidedtoheaddownthemountainahalfhourago.WestayedlongerbecauseBonniewantedtoexploresomemore.She’sspentthelastfifteenminutestryingtodistinguishwherethebedrooms,thekitchen,andthelivingquarterswere.I’vespentthattimetrailingbehindherassheclimbswallafterwall.Knowinghowbadthestormscanbeuphere,Ivolunteeredtostaybackwithher,eventhoughLeith,Lachlan,andIslaallsecond-guessedmychoice,eachoneofthemsayingtheycouldstaywithherwhileIheadeddownfirst.
Iwaswrong.
Terriblywrong.
Standingontopoftheruins,armsspread,lookingouttowardthetownbelowus,she’sspeakingtoMotherNature,askingforforgivenessforthetimeshethrewoutanicecreamwrapper,missedthetrashcan,andwatchedittumbledownthestreetinsteadofchasingafterit.
Litter,basically.
She’sapologizingforlitteringwhilepanicgripsmybody,harderandharder,witheveryrumbleofthunderinthedistance.
Thewindwhipsthroughthetreesviciously,thestormmovingfasterthanexpected,andIwatchherswaybackward,teeteringontheedgeoftheweatheredstone.
“JesusChrist,getdown!”Iyellasmypalmsbreakoutinasweat,readytocatchher.
“Sheesh,fine,allright.”Shemaneuversherselfdowntheruinsandlandsperfectlyontwofeetbeforeturningtowardme,agrinonherface.“See,I’mfine.Noneedto—”
CRACK.BOOM.
Thundereruptsaboveandnearlyshakesmetomycore.Asheetofrainsplitsthroughthecloudsanddescendsuponus.Aswaterpoursdown,Istareather,angryandirritated,mypatiencehangingonbyathread.
“Huh.?.?.whowouldhaveknownitwasgoingtostorm?”
“Idid,”Isnap.“Iknew,andyouwouldn’tlisten.Didyoureallythinkapologizingaboutlitteringyearsagowasnecessary?”
Shewipestherainfromherface.“ClearlyMotherNaturedidn’tacceptmyapology.That,orshe’smakingmepaymypenance.”Shethrowsoutherarmsandtiltsherheadback.“Ireceiveyourpunishmentwithopenarms.”
Thunderboomsaroundus,andIgrabherarm,pullingherdeeperintotheruinsandintoasmallalcovewherewe’llbeprotected.Iholdherclose,hopingtoavoidanylightningstrikes.
“Uh,whatareyoudoing?”sheasks,herchinpressedagainstmychest.
“Makingsureyoudon’tgetelectrocuted.”
“Lookwho’soverreactingabout—”
CRACK.BOOM.
Asharpsnapoflighthitsapileofstonesafewfeetaway.Bonnieyelps,buryingherheadinmychestandwrappingherarmsaroundmybody.
“Okay,okay,I’lladmitit—ignoringyouwasabadidea.Ishouldhavegottendownwhenyoutoldme.Hell,maybeweshouldhavegonebackwiththeothers.”
Iblinkafewtimes,shockedthatshe’sfoldedsoquickly.Iwasexpectingalittlemorepushback.“CanIgetthatinwriting,please?”
“No.”
Shesnugglesincloser,andIfeelhertremblebeneathme.Ijusthopeshecan’tfeelmetremblingagainsther.
“Areyoucold?”
“Shaken,”shesays.“MybonesshakewhenI’mstartledorscared.”
“You’rescared?”Iask,feelingalittlesorryforher.That’sright,putallyourenergyintoher,notyourself.
Focus.On.Her.
“Aren’tyou?”Shelooksupatme,andGod,shetrulyisbonny.Dropletsofwatercoatherlongeyelashes,andrainrunsdownherperfectlyplumplips,whichI’msuredowickedthings.
Butthenherwordsregister.
Aren’tyou?
Fuckingterrified.
Itwasastorm,justlikethis.Yearsago.Cameoutofnowhereandchangedeverything.
Butshedoesn’tneedtoknowthat.
Ishakemyhead.“Nay.Thestormwillpass.”Andthat’ssomethingIhavetokeepremindingmyself.Itwillpass.
“Willitbehardertogetdownthehill?”
“Aye.Muchharder,”Isaythroughaclenchedjaw.
“Sodoyouofferpiggybackrides?”
Iraiseabrow.“No.”
“Ugh,whatkindofburly,strappingyoungladareyou?”
“Notthekindthatcarriesstubborn,eejittouristsdownthesideofahill.”
“WhatifIinjuredmyself?”
“Youdidn’t,butifyoudid,I’ddragyoudown—themudwillbeslipperyenough.”
Shehuffsagainstmeandrestshercheekonmychest.“You’reinfuriating.”
“Getusedtoit.”
Shesighsandthenhugsmealittletighter,herarmsstillshaking,herbodystilltrembling.Isqueezeheralittletighter,andeventhoughit’stechnicallyherfaultwearestilluphere,Imovemyhandupanddownherback,tryingtosoothetheshiversoutofher.
Keepmyhandsbusy.Keepmymindfromwandering.
Briefly,sheglancesupandgivesmeasoftsmilebeforethenreturninghercheektomychestandgrippingmeeventighter.
Iwanttobelievethatwe’restandinglikethistoavoidtherainandlightning.Iwanttobelievethispositionisjustself-preservation.
Butwitheverystrokedownherback,Ifeelhermeltfartherandfartheragainstme.AndthescarythingofitallisthatIlikeit.
Ireallyfuckinglikeit.
Andshe’shelpingmeforget.?.?.
Thesunglittersthroughthewetleavesaboveusaswemakeourwaytothebottomofthefootpath.
“Watchit,”Isayassheslipsdownasteep,muddypatchontheedgeofthehill.Iquicklygrabherhandandsteadyherforthefinalfewfeet.
“Thankyou,”shesaysaswestepoffthepathandontothegravelcarpark,whichsitsontheedgeoftown.
We’rebothdrenched.Headtotoe.Mudsloshesinourshoesfromfallingmultipletimesdownthehill,andourhairisslickeddown.Bonnie’sfallsoverhereyesoccasionally.Everytimeshe’spusheditaway,anewswipeofmudhasdecoratedherface,makingitlooklikeshe’swearingcamouflage.Thankstoallthelow-hangingbranches,webothhavetwigsandleavesstickingoutofourclothing.Basicallywe’reasighttobehold,andthetripdownhasleftmeexhausted.Mentallyandphysically.
Westoodbeneaththeruinsforagoodtwentyminutes,ourarmslacedaroundeachother,untilIfeltitwassafetoventuredown.Well,assafeasitcouldbe.Theraincontinuedhalfwaythroughourjourney,thoughitfinallyletupaswegrewcloserandclosertotown.Butthedamagewasdone.
WeresemblesomethingthatwouldcomeoutofLochDuichinthemiddleofthenighttofeastonchildren.
“So,thatwasfun.”Shelaughsnervously.
Idon’trespond.Instead,Iturnawayandstartwalkingintotown,irritatedandcompletelybeat.Carryingworryonyourshoulderswhilehikingdangerousterrainistiring.Iwasnervousshewasgoingtohurtherself,thatanotherstormmightrollaround—orhell,thatIwasgoingtotakeabadfallandshewasgoingtohavetomakeitdownthehillwithoutmetogethelp.
“Soyou’rejustnotgoingtotalktomenow?”Shejogsupnexttome.
Yup.
Ikeepwalking.?.?.well,morelikestalking,myfootstepsechoingagainstthepavedroadandthroughthesilentSundaytown.Everyone’stuckedawayintheirhouses,besidestheoddlocaloutonastroll.
“Aftereverythingwe’vebeenthroughtoday,that’sit?Wemakeittotown,andnowyou’rejustgoingtowalkaway?”
Ispinonher.“You’resafe,andyouknowhowtogetbacktoyourcottage.Ididmyjob.”
“Youdidyourjob?”sheasks.“Whatisthis?Somehistoricalromancewheretheherosavesthedamselindistressandthentakesoff?Icouldhavemadeitdownthehillmyself.”
Ipushmyhandthroughmywethair.“You’reunbelievable.”
“Thankyou.”Shesmiles,andJesusChrist,itmakesmewanttopushherupagainstthewalloftheMillMarketandtamethatsassymouth.
“Yourealizeyoucouldhavereallybeenhurtupthere?”
“Aww,Rowan,youcareaboutme.”Hervoiceisteasing,butallitdoesisgrateonmynerves.Shehasnofuckingideathekindoftroublewecouldhavebeenin.
Whatafuckingemotionalrollercoastertodayhasbeen.OneminuteItoleratehercompany,thenextIfeelmyselfcravingconversation,andthenIwanttotearatreedownbarehandedandchuckitacrossthemountaintopbecauseshedrivesmesogoddamnmad.
“Thisisn’tfunny,Bonnie.”
Hersmileslowlyfades,andherheadtiltstothesideasshestudiesme.“Youreallywereworried.”
“Yes,”Igrowlinfrustration.“We’reluckysomethingmoreseriousdidn’thappen.Ifyou’djustlistenedtome,wewouldn’tbecoveredinmudanddrenchedtoourcore.”
“Butwe’refine.”
“Wecouldhavebeenhurt.”
“‘Couldhave’beingthekeyphrase.”Shepressesherhandtomyshoulder.“Noneedtogetsoupset.”
“Yeah,that’seasyforyoutosay—youweren’ttheoneresponsibleforanotherlife.”
“Youdon’thavetoberesponsibleforme,Rowan.Icantakecareofmyself.”
“Okay,then,takecareofyourself,”Isay,pushingpastherandheadingtowardmycottage.
JesusChrist.
Whatthehellhappenedtoday?Iwassupposedtogoonaleisurelyhikewithmyfriends,andIspentmostofitarguingwithasmart-mouthedblonde,gettingstuckinatorrentialdownpour,andthenlettingthatsmart-mouthedblondegetundermyskin.
Hourslater,afteralongshowerandaheartyhelpingofbeefstew,Ileanbackinmychairandstareupattheceiling,myeyesfocusedonitsarchedwoodenbeams.Bonnieweighsheavilyonmymind.
Shedrivesmecrazy.
Shemakesmewanttoscream,throwthings,andthenkissherallinthesamemoment.
Ishakemyhead.ThereisnowayI’mdevelopingfeelingsforher.Nowayinhell.
Yes,she’sattractive,butfeelings.?.?.no.
Ineedtogobacktomyinitialplan:stayasfarawayfromthelassaspossible.Intheweekshe’sbeenhere,mylifehasneverfeltmorechaotic,andthelastthingIneedistobeoutofcontrolwhenevershe’saround.
Distance.Ineedsoliddistancefromher,andeverythingwillbefine.CHAPTERNINE
BONNIE
Cakeconsumedtoday:ThreeslicesofDundeecake.
Dayssincelastmale-inducedorgasm:Eighty-one.
Boredom:Massiveamounts,toomuchtocount.
RainstormssincearrivaltoScotland:Fourteen.Nowonderit’ssogreenhere.
Servingcoffeetoinvisiblehumansisfranklyborderlinelunacy.AtleastFergusisstillshowingupunannounced.Lasttime,hescreamedsoloudthatIpiddled.Agoatmademepiddle.ButthenIpettedhim,andnowIthinkwe’restartingtobuildastrongbond.Thisismylifenow.
“Coffee?Yeah,you—Iknowyouwantcoffee.”Iwaveacupintheair.“It’stasty—trueScottishflavors.Evertasteakilt?Wesqueezethemrightintothebrew.Weactuallyusekiltsascoffeefilters.Deliversthetrueessenceoftheland’sancestors.”ThetouristI’mverballyaccostingputshishandupoverhisfaceandwalksrightonby.
Sheesh,he’srude.
“Asimple‘No,thankyou’wouldsuffice!”Ishoutoutbeforewalkingbackintotheshop.
“Whyareyousayingeverythingsmellsortasteslikeakilt?”Dakotaasks.She’sstandingbehindthecounter,hoveringoverhercomputeranddrawingpad.“Youknowthere’ssomuchmoretoScotlandthanjustkilts.”
Itapmychinandleanagainstthewall.“ThinkIshouldhavesaidwestireachcupofcoffeewithbagpipes?”
“You’relosingit.”
“Iam,Dakota,”IsayasIwalkovertothecounter,whereIhoistmyselfup,lettingmyfeetdangledown.“Whatthehellarewedoingheredayinanddayout?We’rewastingaway.”Imotiontohercomputer,whichshe’sbeenparkedbehindsincewegothere.“You’reatleastdoingsomething.”Isquintatherscreen.“Isthatasoupcanwithaninspirationalquoteonit?”Iwavemyhand,dismissingthenewfreelancejobshereceivedfromanup-and-cominginfluencerwhospecializesindishingout“inspirationalsoup.”Dakotawastellingmeaboutitlastnight.Iswear,marketingisgettingcornierandcornier.“I’msoboredhere.I’mjuststaringatthewall.”
“Thendosomething.”
“Okay,sowhatdoyousupposeIdo?Playsomemusicandcomeupwithatapdanceroutinethatmightbringinmorecustomers?”
“Nooo,”shedragsoutandthenmotionstothespace.“Fixthingsup.”
“Pardon?”
Shesighsandliftsherselfawayfromhercomputer.“Ifyouwantmorecustomers,figureouthowtogetthem.Catcallingthemfromthedoorwayaboutkilt-flavoredcoffeeisnotthewaytodoit.Youwanttokeepbusy,and,well,here’saprojectsittingrightinfrontofyou.Takeadvantageofit.”
“Youmean.?.?.fixupthecoffeeshop?”
“Whynot?ItoldyouFinellaleftuswithhercreditcardwhenyouweretakingcareofyourhaggissituation—remember?Shetoldustouseithoweverweneedtomakethestoreshine.”
“Ivaguelyrecallthis.”Itapmychinandlookoverthespaceasideasstarttotrickleintomymind.“Youreallythinkshemeantit?Tohelpmakethisplaceshine?”
“Yeah.”Dakotashrugsandgoesbacktowork.
“Dakota.”Ireachoverandshutherlaptop,somethingIknowshehates,butIneedhercompleteattention.“Doyouthink.?.?.doyouthinkFinellawasalludingtousactuallymakingsomethingofthecoffeeshopagain?Like,didshehireustobringitbacktolife?”
“Maybe.Shedidmentionthatshecreatedtheadtobringsomefunattentiontothecoffeeshop.Wasn’texpectingittobringtwoAmericanstoCorsekellytorunit,butshesaidAmericansknowtheircoffeehouses,andmaybewecouldputourtouchonit.”
“Andyou’rejusttellingmethisnow?Afteroveraweekofabsoluteboredom?Whatiswrongwithyou?”
“Whyonearthwouldyoutrytofixsomethingifyoudon’thaveabaseline?”Dakotaasks,andhersimplereasoningisfartooannoyingtoappreciate.“Youcan’tpossiblyfixsomethingwithoutfindingoutwhat’swrongwithitfirst.”
She’srightaboutthat.?.?.unfortunately.
Justthen,anothertourbuspullsaway.Iglanceatthetimeonmyphone—theywerehereforhalfanhour.HalfanhourinCorsekelly,andnotoneofthemcameintothecoffeeshop.
TheonlyvisitorwasFergus,andfranklythat’sjustsad.Butwedidhavearivetingconversationabouthooves.Eventhoughhislooklikelittlevaginas,Itoldhimnottobeself-conscious—andifhereallywantedtospicethingsup,Icouldpainttheminaprettyplaidpatternwithnailpolish.Hesaidhewouldconsiderit.Betweenyouandme,I’mprettysurehe’sgoingtopass.
ButFergusasourlonevisitorisn’tgoingtocutit.
“Doyouknowhowmuchbusinesswemissoutonbecausewe’reofferingplaincoffeeandhotchocolatepackets?”Iask.“Thisplacehasthepotentialformore—muchmore.Wecouldoffersomanyotherdrinks,bakedgoods,specialsthatgohandinhand.Coffeeandabuttery.WecanhavePenisStonesouvenirs.Therearen’tmanyhereintown.AndwhataboutFergus?Imean,he’satowntreasure,andnooneissellinganythingFergusthemed.ThinkofallthemoneywecouldmakeforFinellaandStuart.Wecouldjump-startthisentirecoffeeshopandgiveitanewlife.”
ForthefirsttimeinIdon’tknowhowlong,excitementbubblesupinsideme.Mymindwhirswithallthepossibilities,allthepotentialthecoffeehousehas.
“Youcandesignanewsign.Createalogofortheshop.Designalltheshirtsandmerch.Themenus—ohmyGod,thiscouldbehuge,Dakota.”Ipushathershoulder.“Doesn’tthisexciteyou?”
“Sure,”shesays,socasuallythatitmakesmewanttoscream.
“Whatdoyoumean,‘sure’?Doneright,wecouldcapitalizeonthosetourbusesandcreatesomethingspecialhere.AndaccordingtoallthecareerassessmentsI’vetaken,organizationalskillsaremybestattribute.Thisisrightupmyalley.”
Dakotasmilesandopensherlaptopbackup.“Icanseeyoureallycreatingsomethingspecial.”
“Really?Doyoumeanthat?”
“Ofcourse.Isaygoforit.”
“Yeah?”Iask,nearlybouncingupanddown.
“Yeah,butwhateveryoudo,youhavetorunitbyRowanfirst.”
Poof!
Didyouseethatsplatterofhope?Thatwasallmyexcitementdryinguplikeastringbeaninthedesert.
Shriveledupandmorphedintodust,onlytobepickedupbyagustofwindandcarriedoffintothelandwheredreamsdon’tcometrue.
“Whatdoyoumean,runitbyRowan?”
“DidyounotpayattentiontoathingItoldyouourfirstnight?”
“Oh,excuseme.”Iholdupmyhands.“Iwasjet-lagged,hadaScottishmantrytospeaktomewhiletappinghiscrotch,thoughtIwasgoingtodieonaroundaboutinaMINICooper,wasfedsheepintestines—andthenquicklydisposedofthoseintestines—onlytobeaccostedbyagrumpyScotwhofoundmybroomwieldingmorecomicalthanthreatening.Iapologizefornotrememberingthesmallestofdetails.”
“Maybethatwaswhyyouwerefiredthreetimes,”Dakotasayswithahugesmirk
Ipointafingerather.“You’reanasshole.”
Webothlaugh,andDakotaturnsbacktoherscreen.“Seriously,though,Finellasaidwhateverwedo,justtorunitbyhimfirst.”Sheshrugs.“Seemsfair.Shedoesn’twanttwostrangerscominginanddestroyingtheintegrityoftheircoffeeshop.”
“But.?.?.Ihaven’tseenorspokentohimsincehestormedoffafterthehike.”
“Aboutthat.?.?.accordingtoIsla,itseemedlikeyoureallypissedhimoff—whichisnotthestoryyougaveme.”
Myeyesnarrow.“Whatdoyoumean,accordingtoIsla?Whendidyouspeaktoher?”
“Yesterday.”ThesmallestofsmirkspullsatthecornersofDakota’smouth.“IwasstockinguponyourDundeecakesupply.”
“Oh,don’tyoudareusemeasanexcusetogointothebakeshop.Weallknowwhyyouwerethere.Andyoudidn’tevencomehomewithDundeecake.Youcamehomewithshortbread.”
“Whichyouateallof.”Sheliftsabrow.
“Boredomeatingisarealthing,”Isay,foldingmyarmsovermychest.“Butthat’sbesidethepoint.Youweretalkingaboutme?”
“No,”Dakotasighs.“IslaaskedhowyouweredoingafterbeingstuckuponthemountainwithRowanduringtherainstorm.Eversincehelosthisbrother—”
“Wait,what?”Iask,sittingtaller.“Rowanhasabrother?”
“Had,”Dakotasaysquietly.“Isladidn’tgetintoit,andIdidn’tpry.AllIknowisthathedoesn’tlikeseriousrainstorms.Shewantedtomakesurehewasn’ttooharshonyou.Lasttimetheywerestuckonamountaintogetherwhenitwasstorming,Rowanapparentlylosthismind.Ittooksometimetocalmhimdown.”
“OhmyGod,”IjustaboutwhisperasIthinkbacktoourhike,howIcarelesslydisregardedhiswarningsandhispersistentneedtomakeitdownthehillbeforetherainbecametoostrong.ThetensioninhisbackeverytimeIslipped,hissterngripaswewalkedthroughmud.Hisdemeanorafterwesteppedoffthetrail.
Anger.
Distress.
Relief.
Wow,Idon’tthinkI’veeverfeltmorelikeanass.
“Ihadnoidea,”Isaysoftly.
“Apparentlyheholdsitallin—whichexplainswhyhe’ssogrumpyandstandoffish.FromwhatIslaalludedto,thereseemstobesomedarknessinRowan’sfamily.Soyeah,evenifyoutwoaren’tgettingalongrightnow,maybecuthimsomeslack.Don’tgofullBonnieonhim.”
“Toolate.”Icringe.
BeggingforforgivenessfromMotherNatureoverlittering.?.?.yup,IwentfullBonnieonhim.?.?.whilehewasinthemidstofpanicking.
Reallygreat,Bonnie.Justperfect.
“Hey,Shona,”Isay,walkingintotheMillMarket.
ThequaintshopcanbestbedescribedaswhatwouldhappenifsomeoneblastedTargetwithashrinkgunandthenredecoratedwithScottishcharm.Itsbasketsoverflowwithfruitsandvegetables.Itswoodenshelvesareperfectlystocked.Anditsbeautifulplankwoodfloorswaveandrollwiththeearthbeneathit.JustlikeTarget,theMillMarkethasalmosteverythingyoucouldneed.UnlikeTarget,itallcomesinsmallquantities.
“Hello,Dakota.”
“I’mBonnie,actually,”Ichuckle.
“Och.I’msorry.”Sheshakesherhead.“Blameitontheold-ladybrain.”
“Notaproblematall.”
“AnythingIcanhelpyoufind?”
Iwalkpastadisplayofhaggisandmushypeasandfeelmybonesshiverfromtheinsideout.Iknowothercountriesprobablybalkattheideaofputtingpeanutbutterandjellyonasandwich,butatleastitisn’tacanofharvestedsheepinnards.
“Lookingforanotepadandfunpens.”
“Aye,rightthisway.”
Shewalksoutfrombehindthecounterandguidesmedownasmallaisle,pastthefruitsandvegetables,pastthemeatanddairycases,andintoasmallsectionstockedfullofhouseholditems.
Pots,pans,kitchenutensils,greetingcards,wrappingpaper,toys,andschoolsupplies.
“Hereyago,lass.Wehaveafewnotebooksthatmighttickleyerfancy.”Sheliftsoneupfromthelittlestackontheshelf.“Thishasagoatonit—remindsmeofFergie,theoldman.Takethisone—itwillbringgoodluck.”
“Okay,”Isay,glancingattheothersandnoticingtheyallhavegoatsonthem.GivesmesomethingtosharewithFergus.I’msurehe’llappreciateit.
“Andfunpens.?.?.well,allwehavearetheseFlairpens.Apackofblack,red,andblue.Icanputinanorderforsomeotheronesifyou’dlike.”
Itakethefamiliarpensalongwiththenotebook.“Thesewillbejustfine,thankyou.”
“Ofcourse.Doyouneedanythingelse?WejustgotafreshshipmentofCurlyWurlys,andthey’requitedivine,ifyou’venevertriedonebefore.”
“Isthatapig’stail?”Iask,theonlythingcomingtomindatthosewords.
Shechucklesandshakesherhead.“Nay,it’sCadburychocolatewithcaramel.Everyoneintownlovesthem,soIalwaysstockup.BestyougetsomenowbeforethoseMurdachboysfindthem.AndMacGregortoo—he’sbeenknowntobuyahandfulatatime.”
“Rowanlikesthem?”
“Aye.HowthoseboysallstayinshapedespitetheirmassiveCurlyWurlyintakeisbeyondme.Here.”Shepullsmeuptothesugarshelfandgrabsafewlong,white-and-purple-wrappedtreatsandsetstheminmyhand.“Youwon’tbesorry.”
“Okay,yeah.”Istaredownatthecandy.“I’mgoingtohavetostartrunningifIkeepeatingthewayIhavesinceI’vebeenhere.”
“Isla’sshortbread?”sheasksasweheadtothecounter.
“ThatandtheDundeecake.AlthoughIateadozenshortbreadcookieswithoutevenrealizing—soIthinkthat’smoredangerousthanthecake.AtleastthatIknowhowtopace.”
“’Tisallrighttoindulge,justkeepuponyourfitness.TaketheHairyCooFootpatheverymorn.That’lldoyejustfine.”
“TheHairyCooFootpath?”Iask.Whatanadorablename.
Sheringsupmypurchasesandputsitallonmytab.ThankGod.Istilldon’thavethehangofthewholeforeign-moneythingyet.
“Noonetellyouaboutthehairycoos?They’reourHighlandcattle.Theyroamaboutthegrasslands.Cutefellas,ifyouaskme.There’satwo-milepaththatloopsaroundtheirfeedingarea.Afewyearsagowelaiddownadirtpathtohelpwithtourism.GivevisitorsmoretoseethanjustFergusandtheBoabyStone.”
“Oh,that’sagoodidea.Doalotofpeoplehikeit?”
Sheshakesherhead.“Onlylocals.Notmanypeopleknowaboutit.”
“Oh,well,that’sashame.”Anotherpotentialattractionfortouriststhat’snotlivinguptoitspotential.Thereissomuchcharminthistown,andit’sallovershadowedbyapenisrock.
“’Tispretty,though,andabonnymorningwalk.ThepathstartsrightpasttheBoabyStoneentrance,tuckedintothehills.Can’tmissit.Markedwelltoo.”
“Thankyou.I’llwalkittomorrowmorning.”
“Enjoy.”Shehandsmeapaperbagofmyitemsandgivesmeasmallwave.
Icameinforanotepadandsomepens.I’mleavingwithabriberytool—theCurlyWurlys—andanewwaytocurballthecalories.AsuccessfultriptotheMillMarket,indeed.
“Areyousureyoudon’twantmetogowithyou?”Dakotaasksasshejogsinplaceinfrontofme.
Yes,Dakotahasbeenrunningeverydaysinceshegothere.Shefoundachallengingtrailshereallyenjoysandhasbeentrackinghertimestowatchforimprovement.Besidesherbrilliantlycreativemind,she’salsoverymathoriented.Shelovesdataandsolvingproblems.Sothisbehaviordoesn’tsurprisemeintheleast.I’malsonotsurprisedthatherslowesttimesofarhappenedonthedaywesharedhalfaDundeecake.
Iwasalsosluggishthatday,butIwasn’tsorryaboutit.
“Positive.YougotrainfortheOlympics,whileItakealeisurelywalkwiththecows.”
“Okay,havefun.Yourememberwherethetrailis,right?”
“Yes,Ido.”
“Andyouhaveyourcow-poopbarometerready?”
Inod.“Yup.Goingtosniffitouttoseeifit’sasuitablerunningtrailforyou.”
“You’rethebest.Meetyoubackatthecottage.”Shetakesoff,andIwatchhersetthetimeonherwatchbeforesheheadsintoarun.
Iwalkuptotheentranceandmarvelatthestickarchthatmarksthestartofthefootpath.ItremindsmeofwhatyouseeattheendofadrivewayinTexas,welcomingyoutoaranch.Straightaheadarerollinggreenhillsspottedwithheatherandgrayslaterocks.Behindthehillsareeventallermountains,jaggedandpeakedtopoints,whichIheardfromalocaltheotherdayusuallyhavesnowonthecapsduringthewinter.Unfortunately,nosnowforthiswalk,butit’sstillbreathtaking.
I’malreadyexcitedaboutthepossibilityofthisbeingmymorningroutine.Waterinhand,shoestiedtight,Iwalkthroughthearchanddownthetrail.Thedirtcrunchesundermyshoeswhileearlybirdschirpoffinthedistance.
Yes,Icouldgetveryusedtothis.
Thegreenery,thecrystal-clearbrookthatrunsbythetrailandintotheloch,thesoothingsoundoftricklingwater,andohlook,ahairycoo.
Isn’theadorable
Pictureacowwithaseventieshairstyle.Longbrownlockssweepoverhisface,andmassivehornscomeoutthesideofhishead.Isn’thedarling?Icouldjuststareathimall—
SMACK.
Mycheekconnectswithwhatfeelslikeastonewall,andIfallbackonmyasswithathump.
Whatonearth?
“Ahhell.”Adeep,accentedvoicerollsthroughmyentirebody.
Blinkingandtryingtogetaholdofmybearings,Islowlytakeinthewallbeforeme.Exceptit’snotawall.Toned,tannedlegs,runningshorts.?.?.bulge.?.?.deep,muscularV,followedbydefinedabs,massivepecs.?.?.ohsweetJesus,thosenipples.Soproportionateandpretty.Myeyeskeeprunning,followingapathofdark,twistedinkthatstainsonepecandtravelsoverhisshoulderanddownhisarm.
Andthenhisfacecomesintoviewashesquatsdown.Darkscruff,wetlips,mossy-greeneyes.
“Whatthehellareyoudoing?”Rowanasks,pullingmetomyfeet.
Iblinksomemore,myfacelevelwithhisbeautifullysculptedchest.
Myohmy,dotheybreedthemwellinScotland.
“Hello?Areyouokay?”
“You’reshirtless.”
Heglancesdownathiswet,glisteningchest.“Aye.Andyouhaveashirton.”
Iglancedownatmychestandnod.“Aye.”
Thesmallestofsmirksappearsonhislipsbeforeitdisappears.“Gladweestablishedwho’swearingashirtandwho’snot.”
“’Tisquitetheaccomplishmentthisfinemorn,”IsayinahorribleScottishaccent.Maybethatknockdidsomethingtomybrain.
“Okay,well.?.?.”Hefrowns.“Ifyou’renotconcussed,I’mgoingtotakeoff.”
“Idon’tthinkI’mconcussed.AlthoughIdon’tknowwhataconcussionfeelslike.”
“Areyoudizzy?”
Idofeelslightlydizzy,butI’mnotsureifit’sfrombeingknockeddownorfromthecombinationofmylackofmale-inducedorgasmsandseeingRowanwithhisshirtoff.
“Maybe?”
Hisbrowknitstogether.“Doyoufeellikeyou’regoingtothrowup?”
Ididn’teatbreakfast,sothatcouldbewhyI’mfeelingslightlyfaint.
“Maybe?”
“Jesus.”Hedragshishanddownhisfaceandexhalesheavily.Takingmebymyupperarm,hespinsmearoundandstartswalkingmebacktowardtown.
“Hey,whatdoyouthinkyou’redoing?”
“Takingyoutoyourcottage.”
“ButIplannedonseeingmorehairycoos.”
“Notifyou’refeelingdizzyandnauseous,”hegrumbles.“Wedidn’tevenrunintoeachotherthathard.”
“Saystheguybuiltlikearockwall.”Iswatathishand.“AndIwouldappreciateitifyoudidn’tmanhandlemelikethis.Iamalady,afterall.”
“I’mholdingyouupsoyoudon’tfallagain.”
Iswatathimasecondtime,buthedoesn’tbudge.Sheesh,he’sstrong.“I’mmorethancapableofwalking—”Itripoveratreerootandnearlyfallforward,butMr.?Musclespullsmeback.
MusclesMcGrumpyshire.
“Youweresaying?”heasksdrily.
“Thatwasanunfortunatecoincidence.”
Hesilentlywalksmeallthewaybacktothecottage,hisgriptight,unwavering
“Mornin’,Rowan,”amancallsout,tippinghispageboyhatinourdirection.
“Mornin’,Alasdair,”Rowansays,hisvoicesoundingchipper,sodifferentfromwhenhespeakswithme.
“Morning,”Ishout,waivingobnoxiously.
Alasdairchuckles.“Morning,lass.Goodluckwiththebeast—helookslikehe’sonawarpath.”
“Oh,youknow,justacavemantryingtocontroleveryaspectofmylife,”IshoutbackasRowanwalksusaway.Haveneverspokentothemaninmylife,butIlikehisjollysmile.Canyouguess?Rowandoesn’tappreciatemytinyconversationwithAlasdair.Heindicatedthisbytighteninghisgrip.Impossibleman.
“Youknow,”Isayashemarchesmedownthegraveldrivewaytothecottage,“IthinkIcanmakeitfromhere.”
Nothing.
Notasingleword.
Whenwereachthecottage,hepushesthroughthedoorandwalksmetothecouch.WhileIsitdown,hegoestothekitchenanddigsthroughadrawerbeforepullingoutaflashlight.Stridingbackover,hesquatsinfrontofmeandflashesitinfrontofmyeyes.
“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Makingsureyourpupilsaren’tdilated.That’sasignofconcussion.”
“Arethey?”
“No.”Heturnsofftheflashlightandheadsbacktothekitchen,whereheputsitbackinthedrawerandfillsupaglassofwater.Hestalksbackandhandsitover.Plantinghishandsonhiships,hestaresdownatme.
“CanIhelpyou?”Iask.
Hisstrongjawtwitchesashischestrises.“Drinkthewater.”
“Why?Didyoubewitchitwithspecialhealingpowers?”
“Jesus.?.?.fuck.”Hepushesbothhandsthroughhishair.“Fine,dowhateveryewant.”Heturnsonhisheelandstormstowardthedoor.
“Wait.Ithink.?.?.uh,canyougetmeabowl?IthinkImightthrowup.”
Withlightningspeed,hegrabsthekitchentrashcanandbringsittomebeforesittingonthearmofthecouchandplacinghishandonmyback.Ileanmyfaceoverthetrashcanforagrandtotaloffiveseconds.ThenIturnmyheadtowardhimandsmile.
“Justkidding.”
Annndohhhboy,ifIthoughtthatstormwasbadtheotherday,theonethat’sbrewingrightinfrontofmemightbeevenworse.Yes,maybeIshouldtakeitalittleeasyonhimafterwhatIlearnedabouthisbrother,butthere’ssomethingabouttheclenchinhisjawthatmakesmewanttokeeppushinghisbuttons.
Beforehecanerupt,Iplacemyhandonhisthigh.“Settledown,Grumps.I’mfine.”
Hetearsthetrashcanawayandshovesitbackinthekitchen.“Goodtoknow.”Withthat,hechargestothefrontdoor,ripsitopen,andstridesoutside.
Yikes.Someonedoesn’tliketojokeinthemorning.
FeelingguiltyandrememberingwhyIneedtobenicetothisguy,Ichaseafterhim.WhenImovepastthefrontdoorofthecottage,Ispothim,bothhandsonthebackofhishead,hisbacktensingwithanger.
I’mabouttosaysomethingwhenheturnsaround.Hiseyeswideninsurpriseastheymeetmine,butthatsurpriseisshortlived,andheclosesthedistancebetweenus.
Bodyvibratingwithfury,hegetsrightinmyface.“Don’tjokeaboutbeinginjured.Gotit?”
“Rowan,youcan’tbeserious.Iwasknockeddown,andyou’reactinglikeIcrackedmyheadopen.”
Hiseyesdarken,andhisjawclenchessotightlythatI’mafraidhemightbreakatooth.Hiseyessearchmine,andIcanfeelhimwantingtosaysomething.Buthedoesn’topenhismouth—insteadhejuststaresatme.Iwonderwhathe’sholdingback.
Doesthishaveanythingtodowithhisbrother?Thisinnateneedtoconstantlyprotect,tomakesureeveryoneisokay?IthinkbacktowhatDakotasaidaboutRowanandrainstorms,thewayhetensedeverytimeIslipped.Wasthat.?.?.??
Itakestockofthesituation:hisbreathingisheavy,hisfistsareclenchedathissides.Somuchanger.Somuchhurt.It’sallbottledup,readytobereleased,andifIdon’tdefusethesituation,it’sgoingtoblowuprightonme.
Andthen.?.?.getreadyforit,ladies.?.?.
Hiseyesfalltomylips.
Yup.Theyfallrighttomylips,whichmeanswehaveclearancefortheonethingthatIknowwilldefuseanysituationwithamanthisangry.
Mightnotbesmart.
Mightbealittleonthedangerousside.
Butit’sguaranteedtowork.?.?.
Inoneswiftmotion,Igripbothhischeeks,pullhimdown,andcrashmylipsagainsthis.
Justlikethat.
Kissingthebeastinfrontofthecottage.
AndboyohboyisitthemostuncomfortablethingI’veeverdoneinmylife.
Butterfliesdonoterupt.
Thereisnosignofheartsflyingoutofmyhead.
Noristhereadistantharpistplayingromanticbackgroundmusic.
Theonlythingspresentduringthistorturousmomentarehisstifflipsandflailingarms,asifhislipsgotstuckinabeartrapandhedoesn’tquitecomprehendhowtoreleasehimself.
Dramaticmuch,Rowan?
Decidingtoendhisapparentmisery,Ireleasehim,andhequicklystepsback,puttingdistancebetweenus.Herunsthebackofhishandoverhislipswhilestaringatme.?.?.appalled.
Isetmyhandsonmyhips.“Didyoujustwipemykissaway?”Ican’thelpbutfeelatadinsulted.
“Whatthehellwasthat?”
“Iaskedyouaquestion.”Istandtaller.
“Whatdiditlooklike?”heasks,givinghislipsonemorewipewhilelookingmedeadintheeyes.
Thebastard.
“I’llhaveyouknow,I’malovelykisser.”Hedoesn’tsayanything.“Andyoulookedatmylips.Isawit.That’stheuniversalsignfor‘trespasserswelcome.’Andifyoudidn’tapproachmewithcodmouth,Icouldhavedemonstratedthat,butthereisonlysomuchapersoncandowhenyourlipsarepuckereduplikeanass—”
“Don’tbefuckingkissingme,”hesays,takinganotherstepback.
“I’mnotdiseased.”
“Don’tkissme,”herepeats.
“Why?Doyouhaveagirlfriend?Awife?”
“Nay.”Anotherstepback,hiseyesstillonmine.
“Doyounotfindmeattractive?”
“Doesn’tmatter.”
“Suredoes,”Isay,pressinghim.“Nowyouopenedupaboxyoushouldn’thaveopened.Whydon’tyouwanttokissme?Ibrushedmyteeththismorning.”
“BecauseIdon’twantto.Theredoesn’tneedtobeareasonotherthanthat.”
“Well,it’srude.”
Hescoffs.“It’srudetokisssomeonewhentheydon’twanttobekissed.”
“OhmyGod,it’snotlikeIlickedthesideofyourfaceandthenshovedthetipofmytongueupyournose.Ikissedyou.Growup.”
“Yougrowup,”heshootsback.
“Gah.”Ipointathim.“Yougrowup.”
“You’retheonekissingrandompeople.Yougrowup.”
“Maybeyoubothshouldgrowup,”Dakotasays,joggingupthedriveway.
Rowanrollshiseyesinresponseandtakesoffjogginghimself.Wait,no.Hecan’tjogoff—wehavethingstodiscuss.Chasingafterthismandoesnotsitwellwithme,but.?.?.
“Hey!”Icallouttohim.“Ineedtotalktoyou.”Noresponse.“Youcan’trunfromme—I’llfindyou!”Ishout.Andthenhe’sgone,disappearingpastthetrees.“Damnit,”Imutter.
Iwalkbackintothecottage,whereDakotaisstretching.“Whatwasthatallabout?”
“Ikissedhim.”
“What?”sheasks,theshockclearinhervoiceasImakemywaytowardtheshower.
“Don’tworry,hekissedmebackwithhiscodfishmouth.IthinkIwouldhavefoundmoreofaloveconnectionwithFergus.”
“Whydidyoukisshim?”
“Readtheroom,Dakota,”Isay,slammingthebathroomdoorshut.
WhythehelldidIkisshim?
Itapmypenonmyemptynotebookpaper,chinproppedinhandasIleanoverthecoffeeshopcounter.DakotarantogetuslunchattheAdmiral—there’sascotchbeefsteaksandwichtheyservetherethatis*kissesfingers*todiefor.
WhileDakotahasbeenworkingonhersoup-canimages—thecurrentonefeaturesadancingchickenonthetopwavingaflag;Idon’task,Ijustsmileandsayitlooksnice—I’vebeentryingtodrumupideasfortheshop.ButIkeepfallingshort,becauseallIcanthinkaboutisthismorning.
Honestly,I’mhostingabunchofemotionsrightnow,andI’mreadytokicksomeofthemout.
Angerbecausehe’sinfuriating.Thatonewillprobablystay—notgoinganywheresoon.
EmbarrassmentbecauseIkissedhim,hopingitwouldcalmhimdown—butheactedasifIwasahairycoolappingathislips.Positivelydisgusted.Yup,humiliationwillprobablyhangoutforabittoo.
AndthenIhavethese.?.?.howdoIputit.?.?.uh,adoration-typefeelings.Iadorehisthickpecs,hisfuriousgreeneyes,hisbristlyvoice,andthereparteewehave.Ilikeitmaybealittletoomuch.So.?.?.lookslikethosefeelingswillstayaswell.
Ugh.
I’mliftingupandpressingmypalmtomyeyejustasDakotawalksintothecoffeeshopwithabagfulofthegoods.
Okay,thereisonethingthatwilldistractme,andthat’sfood.
Especiallythatsteaksandwich.
“Arethetattieshot?”Iask,clappingmyhandsasImeetDakotaatoneofthetables.
“Fresh,stillsteaming.”
“God,mymouthisa-gusherrightnow.”
“Attractive,”Dakotasays,laughing.“RanintoRowan,bytheway.”
“Isthatso?”Iaskcoyly,poppingopentheto-gocontainersandlettingthedeliciousonionandgarlicsmellsfillmewithjoy.
“Yup,toldmetotellyouthatwhenhegothome,hewashedhisfacewithbleach.”
Myeyessnaptohers.“Hedidnot.”
Dakotachucklesandtakesaseat,asalmonsandwichinfrontofher.“That’swhathesaid;justrelayingthemessage.”
Whatanass.
AsifIwouldfeelbadnow.
Ohno.?.?.he’dbetterwatchoutbecauseIverywellmightkisshimagain.Exceptthistime,I’llusetongue.
“WasthePenisStoneeverythingyouimagined?”
“BoabyStone,”Meredith,atouristinabright-greenshirtthatreadsMAKINGSCOTLANDMYBITCH,says.
“Ah,yes,sorry.Theslangwordaroundhereis‘penis.’”Nottrueatall,butwhatever.She’sfromtheStates—shedoesn’tknowanybetter.“So,theBoabyStone,wasiteverythingyoudreamedof?”
We’restandingoutsidetheentrancetotheBoabyStonecave,apackoftouristsfilteringinandout,eithercompletelysatisfiedorvastlydisappointedbythesightbeforethem.I’vespentallmorningpullingtouriststothesidebeforetheyhopbackontheirbusestoconductalittlesurveyIputtogether.
“Itwasbeautiful.IreallyfelttheIronCrownsenergyinthere,andIswearIcouldhearSirArmaden’sscreamswhenhispeniswascutoff.”
Oh-kay,notarealthingthathappened,lady,butwhatever.She’smakingScotlandherbitch,soI’mgoingwithit.
“Fascinating.”Ipretendtowritesomethingdown.“Didyoutakeapictureinfrontofit?”
“Ohyes.I’mherewithagroupofmyfriends,andwepretendedtochopeachother’sboobsoff.”
How.?.?.pleasant.
“Youguysareagas,”Isay,pushingherarmplayfully.“WishIgotinonthataction.”
“Wecangobackifyouwant.Addyoutothegrouppicture.”
“Ohno,no,that’sokay.Youdon’twantastrangerinthosememories,anyway.”Iclearmythroatandadd,“Didyougetachancetowalkthroughtown?Corsekellyisquitelovely.”
“Wedid,”shesays.“WepettedFergusandtookafewpictureswithhim.”
“Didhescreamforyou?”Iask.
“No,doeshedothat?”
“Iguessonlyfortheluckysouls,”Ianswer.EventhoughFergusandIhavestartedalittleloveaffair,hestillscreamstomakehimselfknown.NotsureI’llevergetoverit.“So,didyouvisitanyplacesofbusiness?”
“StoppedintotheMillMarketforaboabyshirtandgotafunny-lookingcandy.CurlyWurly—neverheardofit.”
“Oh,they’regood,”Isay,knowingfullwellIhaveonlyoneleft.IpurchasedthemasabriberytoolforRowan,butsomehowtheyendedupinmybelly.Juryisstilloutonhowthatexactlyhappened.
“Can’twaittotrythem.”
“Sothat’sit?Nootherplaces?”
“Nope,that’sit.”
“Uh-huh,no.?.?.coffee?”
“Oh,well,wewerecravingsomecoffee,andthiswouldbeagreattimeforapick-me-up,butfromthereviewsonline,weknewthiswasn’ttheplacetogetit.Sowe’rewaitingfortwomorestops.”
“On-online?”Istutter,tryingnottoblowmycover.
“Yes,thebuscompanyhasaforumfortouristswherewecanreviewplacesontherouteandtalkaboutallthemuststostopinto.TheMillMarketwasoneofthem.SowasMurdach’sWeeBakeshop.MyfriendKaceegrabbedussomehaggispiesfortheroad.”Meredithpointstoherchest.“MakingIrelandourbitch.”
“Scotland.”
“What?”sheasks.
“Scotland.”Imotiontohershirt.“You’remakingScotlandyourbitch.”
“WhatdidIsay?”
“Ireland.”
“Ohh.”Shelaughs.“That’snext.”
Thebusdriverhonksthehorn,andshelooksbackatherfriends,whoarewavingforhertojointhem.
“Well,I’dbestbegoing.”
“Yes,don’twanttomissoutonanyoftheotherstops.Thankyousomuchforyourtime.Ireallyappreciateit.”
“Ofcourse.”Shegivesmeanawkwardhighfiveandthentakesoff.
ItapmypenagainstmychinasIwatchthebuspullaway.Onceit’soutofsight,Imakeabeelineforthecoffeeshop.
Ineedtoseethisonlineforum.
“Notworthyourtime.Barelyanyseating,coffeeleavesmuchtobedesired.Niceowners,buthorribleselection,thereisnoneatall.What’swiththechairs?Weretheymadeinthe1800s?Iwasservedahotchocolatepacket,andIhadtostiritonmyown.”IlookupfromDakota’scomputer.“Theseareallcommentsonthetourbusforum,clearasday,rightundertheCorsekellystop.Nowondernoonecomesinhere.Andthisisjustonetourbuscompany.Howmanyothersdoyouthinkarelikethis?”
Dakotaissittinginthechairacrossfromme,legscrossed.“Uh-huh.”Shestaresoffintothedistance.
“Hello,”Isay,snappingmyfingersinfrontofherface.“Didyouhearme?Thesereviewsareawful.”
“What?Ohyeah,they’rebad.Totallykillingbusiness.”
“Wereyouevenpayingattention?”
“Forthefirsttenminutesofreviews,Iwas.”
“Dakota,whatthehell?You’vebeendriftingoffallfreakingday.What’sgoingon?”
“Nothing,”shesays,hercheeksreddening.
“Uh.?.?.Idon’tbuyit.”
Ilookoveratthecoffeecounterandnoticeafamiliarbox.Myheadsnapsbacktoher.“OhmyGod,youwenttothebakeshopagain.”
“Youwereoutofshortbread.”
“BecauseIhavenoabilitytocontrolmyself,whichmeansyouneedtobetheonecuttingmeoff,notfeedingintothemadness.”
“I’magoodfriend.”
“No,you’reusingmeasanexcusetogoseeIsla.”
Shegrins.“Maybe.”
Ipushthecomputerawayandfoldmyarmsovermychest.“Okay,tellmewhathappened.”
“Well,shesaidhi.”
“Ohyes,wow.Bestillmyheart,agreeting,”Ideadpan.Dakotaflicksherpenatmeinresponse.
Chuckling,Isay,“Whatelsehappened?”
“Wetalkedalittleabouttheweather,simplethings,andthen,whenIwasleaving,sheaskedwhatIwasdoingFridaynight.”
“What?”Isitup.“Uh,thisissomethingyoushouldhavetoldmetheminuteIwalkedintothecoffeeshop.Sheaskedyouout?”
“Youwereallhypedupontheresearchyouconducted—Iwaslettingyouhaveyourmoment.”
“Momenthad,nowtellmeaboutyours.”
She’ssmilingsohardthatmycheeksactuallyhurtforher.“Well,itmightbealittlelame,butIconsideritastepintherightdirection.SheaskedwhatIwasdoingFriday,andwhenIsaidnothing,shesaidIshouldbringyouandmeetupatthepub,tohangoutandhavesomedrinks.”
“Ohhh,shedidaskyouout.”
“Andyou,”Dakotasays,alittledefeated.
“I’mjustabufferforyou.Shedidthattobenice.”
“Maybe.So.?.?.willyougo?”
“Ofcourse.I’monehellofawing-woman.Igotyou—boo.”Iwink.“God,howexciting.”
“Don’tmakeitathing.”
Igiveheraside-eye.“YoushouldalreadyknowI’mgoingtomakeitathing.”
“I’maskingyou,please.?.?.don’tmakeitathing.”
“ButIlovemakingitathing.”
“Please,Bonnie.”
“Ugh,”Igroan.“Thisispainful.”
“Bonnie.?.?.”
“Fine.”Ileanbackinmychair.“Iwon’tmakeitathing.”
“Thankyou.So,aboutthereviews—”
“OhmyGod,you’regoingonadate.”Iclapmyhandsexcitedly.
Dakotaputsherheadinherhand.“You’remakingitathing.?.?.”CHAPTERTEN
ROWAN
CurlyWurlysconsumed:Seven.
CurlyWurlysleftinstash:One.
Awkward,unexpectedkisses:One.
Missedopportunitytokissback:One.
AcertainblondehaspushedmetoblowingthroughmystashquickerthanIcarefor,andI’mnotfuckinghappyaboutit.Andshe’smademeconsiderwhyIdidn’tkissherback.Maybebecauseshedrivesmeinsane?MaybebecauseIhavenoideahowIreallyfeelabouther?MaybebecauseI’moutofmymindwithmyparents,her,thechangesthatarehappeningatarapidpace.
Can’tblameaguy,right?
“Rowan,areyouthere?It’syourmother.”
“Yes,Maw.Iknow.IcanseethatfromthecallerID.”
“Well,Icanbarelyhearyou!”sheyellsintothephone.
“Becauseyoudon’thavethephoneonspeaker,”Ihearmydasay.
“Ipressedthebutton.”
“Youdidn’tpressthebutton.It’snotlitup.”
“Howdoyouknowithastobelitup?”Mawasks.
“That’showthephoneworks.Pressthebutton.”
“Idid.”
“Youclearlydidn’t.”
“JesusChrist,justsomeonepressthebutton!”Ishout.
“Fine,I’llpressthebuttonagain—ohlook,it’slitup.”
“Itoldyou,youbawbag,”Dasays,makingmechuckle.
“Youwatchyourtone,Stuart,”Mawsnaps.“OrIwon’tfetchyouthatcolalikeyouasked.”
“Sorry,”hemumbles.
Daandhiscola.
“Rowan,areyouthere?”
“Yes,I’mstillhere,”Ianswerwhilekickingmyfeetuponmycoffeetable.
“Howareyou?”Mawshouts,nearlybreakingmyeardrum.
“Youdon’thavetoshout,Maw,Icanhearyoujustfine.”
“Och,sorry.”Shechuckles.“You’dthinkI’veneverusedaphonebefore.Howareyou?”
It’srarewhenshedoesuseaphone,though.Ifshewantstotalktosomeone,sheusuallyjustwalksovertothem.Theonlypersonshetalkstoonthephoneishersister,andthat’sprettymuchit.
“I’mdoingfine.”Itwistmywaterbottleinhand,staringdownatthefizztabletthat’sreactingtothewater.“How’sholibags?”
“Lovely,lovely.Wehadthemostwonderfulchickentoday.Iaskedthewaitressfortherecipe,andshesaidtheydidn’tdothat.”
“Yeah,Maw.”Ipushmyhandthroughmyhair.“It’snotliketheAdmiral,whereyoucangouptoAlasdairandaskhimforhispiecrustrecipe.”
“Well,itshouldbe.Wepaidenough.Youwouldthinkthey’dallowyoutotakehometherecipe.”
“Whereexactlyareyou?”Iask.
“Ohnow,now,noneofthatbusiness.”
“Don’tyouthinkit’swellmadthatyou’reinanothercountryandIdon’tknowaboutit?It’snotsettlingwellwithme,Maw.I’mworried,yeken?”
“Youhavenothingtoworryabout,Rowan.We’resafe.”
Yeah,well,easyforhertosay.
Itakeadeepbreath,tryingnottogrowfrustratedwithmyparentsandstressthemout.“Givenwhat’shappenedinthepast,I’dassumeyouwouldbemoresensitivetomefrettingaboutthewell-beingofmyfamilymembers.”
Asigh.“Rowan,Ipromiseyou,youhavenothingtoworryabout.”
“Whywon’tyoutellme?”Iask,soundingharsherthanIwanted.
“Justdropit,Rowan,”Dachimesinwithhissternvoice.
Andnowthathe’sspokenup,it’sdone.ButIdon’tthinkit’snothingtoworryabout.They’renotsayingwheretheyare.Dasoundsweaker.Somethingisgoingon,andit’sreallystartingtoconcernmethattheyaren’tinvolvingmeintheirlives.
Ipressmyfingerstothebridgeofmynose.“Fine,butyou’rebeingsmart?Takingallprecautions?Youknowhowpeoplecantreattourists,especiallyolderones.Theytakeadvantage.”
“We’renotthatold,”Mawscoffs.Oldenough.“Andyes,we’rebeingsafe.Now,let’stalkaboutyou.Shonawastellingmehowyou’vebecomefamiliarwithBonnie.Shecouldn’trememberwhowaswhoatfirst,butshedescribedherasthelong-hairedblonde.”
FuckingShona.
“I’mnotfamiliarwithBonnie,whateverthehellthatmeans.”
“Well,that’snotwhatI’veheard.Seemslikeyou’vebeencarryingherallaroundtown.Goingonhikes.Apparently,youappearedfromthetreesallmuddyandwet.Caretoexplain?Sheassumedyoutwowererollingaroundtogether.”
“Shonashouldn’tassumeandjustkeeptoherself.Wewerestuckinarainstorm,gotwetandmuddy.Thatisall.”
“Youtwodancedtogether.”
JesusChrist,doesshehaveacameracrewfollowingmearound?
“Youknow,youdon’twanttotalkaboutwhereyouare,andIdon’twanttotalkaboutBonnie—gotit?”
“Watchyourtone,lad,”Dacutsinagain.
“Youknow,Ihavetogo.Ihavesomethingstodo.”Istaredownatmyfizzywater.
“Oh,okay,dear.Well,stayintouch,andmakesurethelassesaretakencareof.Anythingtheyneed,lendahelpinghand.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Weloveyou,Rowan.”
Exasperated,Iblowoutalowbreath.“Loveyoutoo.”
Ihangupmyphoneandtakealookatthetime.Littlepastsixthirty.Icouldusemorethanjustanelectrolytewateratthispoint.Icoulduseanentirebucketofbeer.
Istandfromthesofa,headtomybedroom,andpickoutsomefreshclothesbeforeturningontheshower.I’mheadingtothepub.
FridaynightatFergie’sCastleisalwayspacked,butHamishopensupthedoorsandallowsoutdoorseatingduringthesummer.Makesthespacelesscrowded,andhavingafewpintswiththelochlappingattheshoreacrossthewayissoothing.
BecauseeveryoneisatthepubonFriday,Iputonanicepairofjeansandasimplewhitebutton-upshirt,makingsuretorollthesleevesuptomyelbows.I’vestyledmyhairforonceandamabouttoleavewhenIquicklysprayabitofcolognethatIneverwear.Myfriendsmightappreciatesomecologne.
ThishasnothingtodowithpossiblyseeingBonnie.
Notevenalittle.
WhenImakemywayintotown,IcanalreadytellthatFergie’shasalittlebitofacrowd,basedonthenoiseemanatingfromthebuilding.Afewsummersago,Hamishspentagreatdealoftimeworkingonthepub’soutdoorcourtyardandrepairingthestonewallthatbordersLochDuich.Headdedplantersthatholdflowersduringthesummerandsprigsofspruceduringthewinter.Heevenlyspacedoutpicnictableswithlargeredumbrellassecurelyfastenedinthemiddle,providingprotectionfromwhatsunwedoget.Andthen,towardthewall,hebuiltaladderballcourtforthosedrunkennightswhenyouthinkyourabilitytothrowballsonastringisonpoint,whenit’sreallynot.IsuppressasmileatafewrowdiermemoriesasIstepontothecourtyard.Tomysurprise,afewpicnictablesarestillavailable.
Excitedtobeabletositoutsideandenjoyapint,I’mmakingmywaypastthepicnictables—justassomeonegrabsmyhand.
“Rowan,youlooknice.”
IglancedowntofindIsla,lookingniceaswellinasummerdress,herredhairgatheredhighonherheadinaponytail.
“Hey,Isla.Youlookgoodyourself.Ididn’tevenrecognizeyou.”
“Ohreally?AmIthatsquirrelydaytoday?”Shesmirksatme.
“YouknowwhatImean.”
Shetugsonmyhand.“Joinme.Iorderedapitcherandtwoplatesofnachos.They’rethespecialtonight,andyouknowI’mnotgoingtopassupsomenachos.”
“Twoplates’worth?”Ichuckle.“Andapitcher—you’regoingtoneedsomeonetocarryyouhome.”
“No,it’snotallforme.I’mexpectingcompany.”
“Who.?.?.??”
“Hey,Isla.”Idon’thavetoturnaroundtoknowwhojustexcitedlygreetedher,butIdoanyway.“Who’syourfriend—?”
BonnieisstandingnexttoDakota,andthey’rebothdressedupaswelland.?.?.hell,Bonnie,uh.?.?.fuck,shelooksdrop-deadgorgeous.
Herlongblondehairisstyledinwavesandispinnedbackhalfup,halfdown.Heavyblackmascarahighlightsthosemesmerizingeyes,andalightshadeofpinkpaintsherplumplips.Andthatdress.Hell.Lightblue,it’stightaroundherwaistandbreastsandflairsoutatherhips.Mouthwatering,that’stheonlywaytodescribeher.
“Oh,Rowan.”Shechuckles.“Ididn’trecognizeyouinabutton-upshirt.”
“Shouldsaythesameaboutthedress,”Isay,andhereyesnarrow.
“Youbothlookreallynice,”IslasayssweetlybeforeclearingherthroatandturningtoDakota.“Iloveyourhair.”
Dakotablushes.“Thankyou.Youlookgreattoo.”
AndohmyGod,they’reonadate.?.?.withathirdwheel.
Bonnieisthedeadgiveaway—she’ssteppedofftothesideandistwiddlingherfingerstogetherinfrontofherchest,lookingfartooexcited.
WebothstareatDakotaandIsla,whoarestaringateachotherandsmiling.Idon’tknowmuchaboutDakota,butfromwhatI’veseen,shecouldbeagoodmatchforIsla.They’rebothcalm,thoughtful,andtakegoodcareoftheirfriends.
HencethereasonI’vebeenaskedtobecomethisdate’sfourthwheel.
NormallyIwouldquicklybowoutandgrabapinttomyself,sitonthestonewall,andstareoutattheloch,butIhaveafeeling—fromthewaythey’restaringateachother—thatthey’regoingtowantsomealonetime,butthereisnowaytheywoulddingyBonnie.They’renotthatkindofpeople.
So.?.?.lookslikeI’monBonniepatroltonight.Great.
“Iorderedusthebeeryoutwosaidyoulikedandsomenachos.Ihopethat’sallright,”Islasayswithanervoussmile.
“Ilovenachos,”Bonniesays,takingaseatatthepicnictable.Dakotasitsnexttoher,andIslatakesaseatacrossfromDakota,whichleavesmewithsittingacrossfromBonnie.
WhenItakeaseat,Bonnie’seyeswiden.
“Whatareyoudoing?”sheasks.
“Islainvitedme.”Ismirk.
“Ihopethat’sokay,”Islasays,alwaysthepeoplepleaser.“Icankickhimoutrightnow,andhecouldgethisownnachos.”Iknowshe’snotserious,butI’dallowitifshewas.
“Pleasekickhim—”
“Themorethemerrier,”Dakotasays,elbowingBonnie.
JustthenHamishdeliversthebeerandthenachos,somethingheneverdoes,butthenagain,he’salwayshadasoftspotforIsla.Whodoesn’there?Sheownsabakeshop,isincrediblysweet,andisalwaysoneofthefirstlocalstovolunteertohelpoutwhereverit’sneeded.
“Thankyou,Hamish,”shesays.
“Ofcourse,darling.Enjoy.”Henodsatmequicklyandthentakesoff.
“Wow,theselookamazing,”BonniesayswhileIslastartspouringeveryoneaglassofbeer.
Clearingherthroat,IslameetsDakota’sgaze.“Howwasyourday?”
Dakotasmiles,herwholefaceflushed.“Itwasproductive.”
“Oh?Whatdidyoudo?”
Shiftinginplace,sheglancesatBonnieandme—Bonniechowingdownonanacho,completelyoblivioustoDakota’sdiscomfort.“Uh,youknow,justsomestuffonthecomputer.”
HeatslidesupthebackofmyneckasIrealizejusthowmuchthegirlswantprivacy.
“I’veneverbeenasuperfanofjalape?os,”Bonniesays,staringdownatonethat’spinchedbetweenherfingers.“Whichisweird,giventhatI’mfromSouthernCalifornia.YouwouldthinkMexicanfoodisinmybloodstream,butthenIhadoneafewmonthsagobyaccidentandIcouldn’thelpbutthink,‘spicy,butdelightful.’”Shepopsitinhermouthandlooksaroundthetable.“Reallygood.”
Dakotaclearsherthroat.“Doyou,uh,likejalape?os,Isla?”
“Ido,”sheanswersawkwardly.
“Now,olives.Ooo-eee,there’ssomethingI’veneverbeenabletogetenoughof,”Bonniesays,pickingoneupandploppingitinhermouth.
“Doyoulikeolives,Isla?”Dakotaasks,andholyhell,I’mdyingaslow,slowdeath.
“Ido,”Islaresponds.“Doyou?”
DakotaisabouttoanswerwhenBonniesays,“Oh,shelovesthem.Whenwewerekids,sheusedtobuyfivecansatthestore,andwe’dsitundermytrampolinewithacanopenereatingthemall.Itwasaweirdaddiction,butourparentsweregladweweren’tdoingdrugs.Oh,thesechipsareamazing.Crunchyandholdingthecheesejustlike—”
“Bonnie,Ineedtoshowyousomething,”Isay,standingfromthetable.
“What?”sheasks,appearingcompletelyconfused.Shelooksmeupanddown.“Whatdoyouneedtoshowme?”
“It’soverthere.”Ipointtothestonewall.
“Uh.?.?.I’mgood.”Shepicksupanothernacho,andIglancedownatDakota,whoshootsmeapleadinglook.
That’sit—shewantsherfriendgonesoshecanrelaxwithIsla.Igetthat.IfIwastryingtogoonadateandmymatewaswithme,itwouldbehardtorelax
Iroundthepicnictable.“It’lljusttakeasecond.It’simportant.”
“You’rebeingweird,”shesays.“Whyareyoutalkinglikeyourjawisclenchedtight?”
DearJesus,thiswoman.
“Justgoseewhathewants,”Dakotasays,nudgingBonnieintheback.
“Whatifit’shispenisorsomething?Lasttimeaguysaidhewantedtoshowmesomething,hestretchedhisnutsacoverhispantsandsaid,‘Look,it’sgum.’”
Whothehellisshehangingoutwith?
“DoyoureallythinkIwoulddothat?”
Bonniegivesmeasmoothonce-over,hereyesrestingasecondtoolongonmychest.Finally,sheanswers,“Maybe.”
Christ.
“I’venevermetamoreinfuriatingwoman,”IsaybeforeIcanstopmyself.
“Ohyeah,nowIreallywanttoleavewithyou.”Bonnierollshereyes.
DakotashovesBonniethistime,andtheyexchangealook.Inthatonelook,IcanseeDakotasecretlytellingherfriendtogetthehellup.Luckily,itworks.Bonniestandsandsmoothsherdress.“Fine,butifheshowsmehis‘gum,’youowemesomemoreshortbread.”Shesighsandturnstowardme.“Okay,showmewhateveritisyouwanttoshowme.”
Thegirlreallyiscluelesssometimes.
Igrabherbytheupperarmandwalkherovertothewall,farenoughawayfromthetablethatnoonecanhearus.
Shelooksaround,examiningthearea,andthenturnstome.“What?Istheresomekindofspecialrockthatwillgiveyouluckifyourubit?IsthereanotherBoabyStonehere?”
“You’rereallyfuckingclueless.”
“Excuseme?”sheasks,handsonherhips,andhell,thepositiononlyliftsherbreastsmore.
Iclearmythroat.“They’reonadate.”
“Uh.?.?.duh.I’mherwing-woman.”
“Yeah,prettysureDakotadoesn’tneedawing-womanatthispoint.”
“Youdon’tevenknowher.Sheaskedmetogobecauseshe’sshy.Dakotahasbeenthroughalot,andsheleansonme,especiallywhenitcomestoherlovelife.Thisisimportanttoher,andthereisnowayI’mgoingtoletherdown,notwhenIknowI’mneeded.Don’tbelieveme?Justlookat.?.?.”Bonnie’svoicefadesassheturnstothetable—DakotaandIslaaredeepinconversationnow.“Huh,wouldyoulookatthat.”
“Idon’tthinksheneedsyou.Whattheyneedisspace,awayfromsomeoneblabbingonaboutthehistoryoftheirjalape?oandoliveconsumption.”
“Uh,thatwasasmoothicebreaker.Notallofuscanjusthuffourwaythroughaconversation.”
“Idon’thuffthroughaconversation.”
“Practically.”Shefoldsherarms,andthatjustmakesthingsevenworseforme.
Christ,it’sasifI’veneverseenapairofboobsbefore.Eyesup,Rowan.
“Well,Iguessifshedoesn’tneedme,I’lljustgohome,”Bonniesays.
“Okay,”Ianswernonchalantly.I’mturningtowalkawaywhenshepullsonmyarm.
“You’resupposedtosay,‘Youcanhavedinnerwithme,’”shesays,andherdefensivetonealmostmakesmelaugh.
“WhywouldyouevenwanttowhenIhuffthroughaconversation?”
Herlipstwisttotheside,andthesmallestofsmilesappearsonherbeautifulface.“Touché,”shesays.Shetugsonmyarmagain.“Don’tmakemeeatalone.”Shebatshereyelashes.“Pleeeease,Rowan,Ifeelbadabouttheotherday—”
“Youfeelbad?”Iscoff.“Youfeelbadaboutdrivingmebatshit.”
“Funnythatyoumentionbatshit.?.?.”
Irollmyeyesanddragmyhandovermyface.Fuck,thiswomanhasmefeelingallkindsofemotionsthatIcan’tquiteseemtoprocess.Itdoesn’thelpthatshe’slookingdamnbeautifultonight,thosebrillianteyesofherspleadingformetogivethisachance.
I’dbelyingifIsaidIdidn’twanttoeatwithher.Despiteourtension-filledmoments,Istillwanttobearoundher,seehowfarshecanpushmebeforesheturnsaround,acompleteone-eighty,andmakesmelaugh.
Shetugsonmyhand.“Please,Rowan.Wecankeepaneyeonthegirlsfromhereandjumpiniftheyneedhelp—andwecankeepeachothercompany.”Shesmilesand.?.?.damnit.
Thatsmilelowersmydefensesinseconds.It’ssweetandloadedwithpromisesoffriendshipandgoodtimes.
Hell.?.?.
“Fine.”Ipointather.“Butdon’tgivemethestorybehindanyotherfoodpreferences.”
“Ohdarn,Iwasplanningongoingintothehistoryofmylifeandcake.”Shesmirks.
“Saveitforsomeoneelse.”Inodtowardanemptytablenearthestonewallthat’sfarenoughawayfromDakotaandIsla.“Grabthattable.I’llsnagaplateofnachosandsomebeersfromIsla.”
“Soundsgood.”
Iapproachthetable,andIslaglancesupatme,gratefulnessinhereyes.“Everythingokay?”sheasks.
“Yeah.”Iscratchthebackofmyneck.“Figuredyoutwomightwantabreakfromallthejalape?oandolivetalk.BonnieandIaregoingtohangatthetableoverthere.”IpointtowhereBonnieis,andshegivesthemanenthusiasticwave.“Figuredwecouldgrabbeerandsomenachos.”
“Yes,please.Wewon’tbeabletoeatanddrinkallofthis,”Islasays.
I’mfillingupapintforeachofusandgrabbingtheplateswhenDakotasays,“Shehidesitwell,Rowan,butshe’sstruggling.Bekind.”
“Ofcourse,”Isay,wishingIcouldreadbetweenthelines.Strugglingwithwhat?
Honestly,givenBonnie’spersonality,Ineverwouldhaveguessedthatshewasstrugglingwithsomething.She’salwayssofulloflife.?.?.andsaucybehavior.
Iholduptheplateandbeer.“Thanks.Havefun,lasses.”
“Thankyou,”IslamouthstomebeforeItakeoff.
Ireallyhopetheyfindaconnection.Theybothseemlikethey’researchingforsomething,andI’mhopingthey’vejustfoundit.
AsIwalktowardher,BonniehopsupfromherbenchandhelpsmewiththenachoswhileIsetthebeersdownonthetable.Itakeaseatacrossfromherandpickupmybeer,bringingittomylipsandtakingasmallsip.
AnIPA.Notmyfirstchoicebutstillgood.ProbablyDeuchars.It’sago-toforalotoflocalsatFergie’sCastle.
“Oh,thisbeerisreallygood,”Bonniesays,settingherpintdown.“MightbemyfavoriteI’vehadsofar.Isityours?”
Ishakemyhead.“Preferanale.”
“Ohhh,youliketochewyourbeer.Idotoo,onoccasion,butIhavetobeinthemood.Likewhenwehadfishandchips,themaltinessofthatbeerwiththeoilandvinegar.?.?.”Shekissesherfingertipslikeachef.“Perfect.ButthisIPAgoesgreatwiththenachos.”
Ipickupachipfullofcheeseandbeans.“Yeah,itdoes.”Bonnierestsherchininherhandandstaresatme.Ipullsomecheeseoffmyfingerwithmymouthandask,“What?”
“You’reratherdressedupfortheevening,Rowan.It’saFridaynight.Wereyouexpectingtofindalasstotakehometonight?”
“No.”
“Please,amanwithyourkindofvirility—I’msureyoumustgoontheprowloften.”
“Iknoweveryoneintown.”
“Doesn’tmeanyoudon’thavealittlesidepiecearoundhere.”Sheperksupandlooksaroundwhileabsentmindedlypickingupachipandstuffingitinhermouth.“WhataboutShona?Cougar,butstillalooker.”
“Shonaismymaw’sbestfriend.Shechangedmydiapers.”
“Soshe’sfamiliarwithyournakedness,then.”
Mybrowshootsup.“Yourealizehowdisturbingthatis?”
“Youknow,whenIsaiditoutloud,itfeltdisturbing.”Shelooksaroundagain.“Okay,whataboutthatgirloverthere?”Shepointstoabrunettewearingabright-redshirt.
“That’sAlana.”
“Ohhh,Alana.Shesoundslovely.”
“She’salsomarriedtoAlasdair,whoownstheAdmiral.”
“Hmm.?.?.aretheyinterestedinthreesomes?”
Itakeanothersipofmybeer.“Wantmetoaskthemforyou?I’msurethey’dbeopentoablondejoiningtheirmarriage.”
“Notforme,foryou.”
Leaningback,Icallout,“Alana,comehere.”
“Whatareyoudoing?”BonniehissesasAlanaapproachesourtable.
“Allright,youtwo.”SheholdsherhandouttoBonnie.“I’mAlana.Idon’tthinkwe’vemetyet.”
“Alana,thisisBonnie.Bonnie,meetAlana.”
“Pleasure,”Bonniesays,tackingonasmileandshakingherhand.“Rowanheresaidyou’remarriedtoAlasdair.”
“Aye,we’veknowneachothersincewewereweeones.Parentssworewewouldgetmarriedoneday,andwedid.”
“Ah,that’ssweet,”Bonniesays,dreamyeyed.
ButthatlookquicklyvanisheswhenIopenmymouth.“Bonnieherewaswonderingifyouhaveroominyourmarriageforonemore.She’slookingtohoponforathreesome.”
“Rowan!”Bonniegasps.“No,Ididnotsaythat.Therewasnomentionofthreesomesatall.”
“Youjustsaidyouwantedathreesome.”
“Rowan,”shesaysthroughclenchedteeth,hereyesscreamingmurder.
“We’retakingapplications,”Alanacutsin,alwaysreadyforalaugh.“We’relookingforsomeoneadventurous.Wouldyousayyou’readventurous,Bonnie?”
Hereyeswiden,andshesitsback,handstwistingherbeer.“I,uh.?.?.Imean,I’vedabbledinthingshereandthere,but—”
“Haveyoueverkissedanotherwoman?”
“Well,therewasthisonetimeIkissedDakota,butthatwasn’treallysexual.”
“Experienceinthebedroom—howmanyyears?”
Completelyshellshocked,Bonniefidgetsnervously.“Uh.?.?.”Shelooksupinanapparentefforttocalculateinherhead.“Carrythefive.?.?.I’msorry,mathishardunderpressure.”
“Haveyoueverusedafeather?Alasdairlikesagoodfeathering,”Alanasays,andInearlyloseit.
“Notperse,”Bonniesays,reallytwistingherbeernow.“But,youknow,Icouldalways—”
AlanaandIbothlaughoutloud,andBonniestares,pressingherhandtoherheart.
“What’sgoingonhere?”sheasks.“Areyou.?.?.areyouteasingme?”
Alananods.“Aye,butIdoenjoythatyoudabbleinthingshereandthere.”
“So.?.?.you’renotlookingforathirdtoyourmarriage?”
Alanashakesherhead.“Doesthatdisappointyou?”
“No,Imean.?.?.no.”Shetakesadeepbreathanddirectsherattentiontome.“Ihateyou.”
IchuckleandsipmybeerasAlanapatsmeonthebackandwishesmeluck.EyestrainedonBonnie,Iwaitfortheonslaughtofwhatevershe’sgoingtodotoretaliate,butshestayssilentinstead,stewing.
Which,let’sbehonest,isworse.Becauseshe’splanningsomethingvindictive—Icanfeelit.
Sheleansback,beerinhand.“Didyougetagoodchuckleoutofthat?”
“Aye.”
“Isee.”Sheslowlystands,eyesstillonme.
“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Wouldn’tyouliketoknow.”Withonehandonthepicnictable,shehopsuponherbenchandfacesthecrowdcongregatedoutsidethepub.“Ahoy!”sheyells,grabbingeveryone’sattention.Thecrowdquietsdown,alleyestrainedonher.Sheclearsherthroat.“IwouldlikeittobeknownthatIkissedRowanMcGrumpyshire”—shepointstome—“andhehascodlips.Deadcodlips.WorstkissI’veeverexperiencedinmylife.Totalandutterdisaster.Bewarned,alllasses.?.?.andlads,forthatmatter:ifyou’relookingtopuckerupwiththecrotchetybeast,bepreparedtobedisappointed.Dead.?.?.fish.?.?.lips.”Sheholdsupherbeerinatoast.“Slangevar.”
AndjustlikethegoodScottishpeopletheyare,theyallholdtheirbeersupandsay,“Slangevar!”beforetakingadrink.
Shesitsdownandsmirksatme.
“Feelbetter?”Iask.Shenods,lookingcompletelyandutterlyhappywithherself.“Good.”Istandaswellandstepuponthebench.
“Whatthehellareyoudoing?”shesnaps.“Getdown.”
Iputmyhandup.“Justneedtoclarifysomethings.”Copyingher,Iturntothepub’spatronsandcallout,“Ahoy!”Afewpeoplelaughandcheer.Igiveasmallwavebeforeclearingmythroataswell.“Aye,it’strue,Ihaddeadcodfishmouthwhenshespelledmewithherwitchyways.”
“Theywerenotwitchy!”Bonnieshouts.
“ButItightenedmymouthtightbecause,accordingtolocallore,womenwithlongblondehairandice-blueeyescouldbetheSerpentQueen.AndIsawit”—Ileanforward,gettingintothestory—“oneevening,Isawherlickherlips.?.?.”
“Serpenttongue,”Lyallsaysfromtheside.
“Derivedfromabasilisk,”Bairdcallsoutfromtheback.
“Exactly.Theelusiveserpenttongue.Themythistrue,lads—she’suponus.Slithery,scaly,readytopopoffyourboabies,andI’dbedamnedifIletittouchmytongue.Kissofdeath.”
“AndthenofftotheBoabyStone,”Lyalladds.
Ipointathim.“Precisely.Beware,lads.?.?.andlasses,forthatmatter.TheSerpentQueenisamongus,andshe’sravenousforhernextvictim.”Iholdupmypint.“Slangevar.”
“Slangevar!”everyonesays.Withthat,theytakeanothersipoftheirdrinksandgobacktotheirconversations.
Ihopdownandsitbackonmybench,lookingexpectantlyatBonnie.Sherunshertongueoverherteethanddoesn’tflinch,orevenblink.Juststares.
“Aren’tyoupleasantcompany?”shefinallysays.
Idowntherestofmybeerandgrin.“Ithinkso.”
“Oh,Isohaveyou.”
“No,youdon’t,”Iscoff.
“Yes,Ido.”Bonnietapsthesideofherhead.“I’mthreestepsaheadofyou,son.”
“That’swhatyousaidthelastthreetimesyoulost.”
“Imeanitthistime.”Sherubsherhandstogetherandreachesforaglass.Shetakesasipandthenmovesitacrossthethreemen’smorrisboardweborrowedfromthepub.
Afterarousingstare-downfromBonniewhileIfinishedoffthenachos,weglancedoveratDakotaandIslatoseehowtheyweredoing,anditwasasiftheyweretheonlyonesontheplanet.Talkingintimatelyclose,handsreachingoutacrossthetabletopushhairoutoftheirfaces,intentionintheireyes,neveralullinconversation.Nothingfazedthem.BonnieandIcouldhavebothwhippedoffourclothesandperformedanakedjig,andtheywouldn’thavenoticed.
So,IofferedapubgametoBonnie—oneIknowIexcelat—andshejumpedonit.
Threemen’smorris,theScottishway.
Liketic-tac-toeonawoodengrid,butthepieceswemovearepintglasses.Everytimewemovethem,wetakeasip.?.?.asmallone.Whoeverloseshastochugonepint.
Bonnieisswayingtothemusicfilteringfromthepub,andshe’sstartingtoshowsignsofbeingdrunk.It’skindoffunny,becausethemoreshedrinks,themoreshedevelopsafakebravado,likeshecantakeontheworldanddoitonehanded.
“Oh,youaregoingdown,Grumpyshire.”
Imovemyglassandtakeasip.
“Aha!”sheyells.“Bam.Drinkup,sucker.”
Shemovesherglass,andIstaredownattheboard.
“Uh,youdidn’twin.”
“Yes,Idid.”Shemotionstothelineofglasses.“One,two,three.Inarow.Suckit.”
“That’smyglass.”Ipointtotheoneinthecorner.
“No,it’snot.”
“Yes,itis.I’vebeendrinkingoutofitthisentiretime.”
“Thenyou’vebeenmovingmyglass.”Shegaspsandreelsback,ahandtoherchest.“OhmyGod,sabotage!”Shepointsatme.“Sabotage.Righthere,inbroaddaylight.”
Technicallynotbroaddaylight.It’snineatnightandthesunisstillup,butI’mnotabouttoarguewithher.
“I’mnotsabotagingyou—that’smyglass.”
“Youknowdamnwellit’snot.You’rejusttryingtomesswithmydrunkmind.Well,I’mnottakingit.Iwon—drinkup.”
“It’smyglass.”
“God.”Sheshakesherhead.“Iknewyou’dbeasoreloser,butreally,Rowan,actinglikeI’mcheating?Isn’tthatbeneathyou?”Sheleansoverthetable,hercleavageinfulldisplay.“Drinkup,lad.”
Igulp,tellingmyeyestolookup,buthell.?.?.Imustbefeelingmydrinktoo,becauseIcan’tseemtostoplookingatherboobs.
“Andwhileyoudrink,learnsomemanners.Itisn’tpolitetostareatalady’sbosom.”
“Callita‘bosom’andIwon’tstareatit,”Isay,pickingupaglassandchugging.That’salie—I’llstillstare.
“Idon’tunderstandwhatwe’redoinghere.”
“Ithinkwerollthedice,”Isay,studyingthebackgammonboard.
“Whatarethedicefor?”
“Uh.?.?.”Iscratchthesideofmyhead.“Totellushowmanyspacestomove.”
“Wherearethespaces?”
Isquintattheboardsomemore.“Can’tbesure.Ithinkit’smissingpieces.”
Sherunsherfingeroverthefeltoftheboardandstrokesthetrianglesections.Shestartswithonefinger,andthenaddstwo.?.?.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Iask,shiftingonthebench.
“Strokingthetriangles.”
“Why?”
Sheshrugs.“Drunk,andIhaven’tstrokedanythinginalongtime.”
“Stopit.”
Sheglancesupatme,eyebrowraised.“Isthisturningyouon,Rowan?”
“No.”
Yes.
“Areyou.?.?.sure?”sheasksinaseductivevoice.
“Youknow,twocanplayatthatgame.”Ibringmyfingertooneofthetrianglesandstarttoslowlymassageit.
Hereyeszeroinonmyfinger,andhertonguepeeksout,wettingherlips.“That’sanicecadenceyou’vegotgoingonthere.Lookslikegoodpressure.”
“Aye.Reallygoodpressure,”Isay,droppingmyvoice.
Reallygettingintoit,shestrokeshertriangleharder,faster.
Jesus.Iswallowhard,watchingashertonguepokesoutandwetsthetopofherlip.Thattongue,whatIcoulddowithit.?.?.
Thiscan’tbeonesided.
SoIpickupthepace,eyeingher,andwhenhergazelandsonmyfinger,Islowitdown,reallydraggingoutthe“pleasure.”
“OhGod,”shesays,herfreehandtravelingupherchesttoherneck.
“Uh.?.?.doyoutwoneedasecond?”Hamishasksashestepsuptoourtable
Webothjumpandsnapawayfromtheboard,handsgoingtoourlaps.
Iclearmythroat.“Justplayingbackgammon.”
“I’veneverseenitplayedlikethat.”
“Americanway,”Bonniesays.
“Aye,well,ifyou’redoneplaying,anothertablewouldlikeit.”
“Sure,yup,alldone.”BonniefoldstheboardandshovesittowardHamish.Hethanksusandtakesoff.Bonnieglancesatme.“Werewejust.?.?.jerkingeachotheroffwithaboardgame?”
“Iwasn’t.?.?.wereyou?”
“No.”Sheshakesherheadquickly.“Nope.?.?.notevenalittle.”
“Good,becausemydickiswaybiggerthanthatfelttriangle.”
HermouthfallsopenasIsmirkandfinishoffanotherpint.
“You’renotsobadwhenyou’redrunk,”Bonniesays,tossingaladderballclearacrosstheplayingareaandmissingtheplayingladdercompletely.Thesunissetting,thecast-ironlightsthatsurroundthecourtyardareflickeringon,andwe’recurrentlybattlingacoupleoftourists—JimandYolanda—whoareontheirsecondhoneymoon.They’restayingatUndertheGoat’sKiltInnanddecidedtoextendtheirvisitonemorenightbecausethey’velovedtheirtimeinCorsekelly.
They’realsodestroyingusinladderball.
“You’retolerable,”IsayasItossaballaswell,whichwhacksJimintheshin.“Sorry,”Icallout.Hejustwavesinresponse.ThirdtimeI’vedonethat—you’dthinkhe’dhavefasterreflexesbynow.
“I’mmorethantolerable.”Shewhipsherarmbackandflingsaball.“Tallyho.”ItwallopsYolandainthearm.“Oof,sorry,Yolly!”Bonniecallsout.“Theymustthinkwe’reaimingforthem.”
“Ididonthelastone,”Iadmit.“Wantedtoseeifhewouldmove.”
Bonniechucklesandgrabsmyarm.“IjustaimedatYolly.ThoughtmaybeifIaimedatherratherthanattheladder,Iwouldhittheladder.Didn’twork.”
“Solidlogic,though.”
“Thankyou.”
Fromacrossthecourt,Jimsays,“Ithinkwe’regoingtocallitanight.”
“Ahh,well,makesureyouicethatwelt.”Bonniewaves.“EnjoyCorsekelly,andstopinthecoffeeshopforsubparcoffeetomorrowmorning.”
TheytakeoffandBonniesighs,leaningagainstme.
“IthinkIshouldgethometoo,”Isay,mybrainfeelingsluggish,theeffectsofwaytoomuchbeer.
“Metoo.”Bonniewobblesasshestartstowalkaway.“Hey,wheredidDakotaandIslago?”Iglanceoverattheirtable,whichisnowvacant.Hell,almosttheentirepubisvacant.Whendidthathappen?Shereachesforherphoneandscansatext.“Oh,theywentforawalk.Gah,doyouthinkthey’reholdinghands?OhmyGod,whatiftheykiss?”Shegrabsmyshirtandshakesme.“Doyouthinkthey’llkiss?”
“Idon’tknow,”Isay.“Maybe?”
“Oh,whatIwouldn’tgivetoseethat.Dakotahasthesoftestlips—sheisconstantlymoisturizingthem.IbetIslawillbeimmediatelydelightedbythem.Andthepassionbehindthekiss—thinkthere’llbepassion?”
Ishrug.“Maybe?”
“Ugh,you’reso.?.?.boring.”
“Isthatso?”Iholdherupbyherarmandguideherawayfromthepubandtowardhercottage.“IfI’msoboring,thenhowthehelldidIentertainyouallnight?”
“Duh,Ientertainedyou.”
“Youwish.IwasentertainedbecauseIentertainedyou.”
Hernosescrunchesup.“Thatmakesnosense.”
“Soundedrightinmyhead.”
Sheglancesaround,seemingtocatchuptothefactthatwe’rewalking.“Whereareyoutakingme?”
“Tothecottage,whereelse?”
“Youcouldbetakingmetoyoursexdungeon.”
“Nah,you’renotsex-dungeonmaterial.”
“Whatisthatsupposedtomean?”Hervoicerisesindefense.“Yousawmestrokingthattriangle.Iwasreallygoodatit.”
“Reallygoodisastretch.”
“Asifyourfingerdiggingwasanygood.”
“Iwasn’tdigging.Jesus.”
Shestumblesoverarockwhenwegettothedriveway,andIholdherup.SeemslikeI’vebeendoingalotofthatlately.“Whyareyoutakingmetothecottage?Iwasn’tdonedrinking.”
“Youweredone.Justsecondsagoyousaidyoushouldgohome.”
“Whomadeyoutheboss?”
“God?”Iask,reallyunsurewhomademethebossatthispoint.
“Ohno,thereisnowayGodwouldmakeyoutheboss.”
“Doyouliketodisagreewithmejusttofight?”
“No.”Shesmirksjustaswereachthecottage.
Thatsmirkisdangerous.
Thatsinglesmirkcouldmakemedosomethingstupid.
Somethingreallystupid.?.?.likekissher.Becauseshe’sthekindofgirlwhocandigunderyourskin,makeyouwantmore,andI’mnotsureI’mmentallyreadyforthatkindofbattle.
So,toavoidanypoordecisions,Ithrowthedooropenandpushherinside.“There.Now,goodnight.”
I’mturningtowalkawaywhenshecallsout,“Theminuteyou’regone,I’mgoingbacktothepub.”
Ipause,andmybackstiffensasIturnaroundtofaceher.“Thehellyouare.?.?.”CHAPTERELEVEN
BONNIE
Beersconsumed:Feelslikeatleasttwenty-five.
Dayssincelastmale-inducedorgasm:Who’scountinganymore?
Hairychestshandisplayingwith:One.
Uhh.?.?.whyismyhandonahairychest?
Whatisthatdelightfulsmell?
WhyamIsowarm?
AmIpettingachinchilla?
Isquintmyeyesopen.Thesunistoobright,andmyheadistryingtocrackitselfopen.Butdespitethescrambledeggsmybrainistransforminginto,Inoticeonethingthatisn’tright.?.?.thereisamaninmybed.
Notjustanyman.?.?.
*Whispers*
KiltyMcGrumpyshire.
*Gasp*
Myhandsquicklyfalltomybody—Ifeelmybreastsfirst.
Exposed.
OhmyGod,whyamInaked?
“WhyamInaked?”Ishout,sittingupinbedandstartlingthehelloutofRowan.Herollsoffthebed,justasIrealizeI’mnotnaked—I’mstillwearingmydress.Myboobshavejustfallenoutofitlikelittleescapees.
JustasRowanpopshisheadup,Iclapmyhandsovermyboobsandturntowardhim.Hisshirtisunbuttoned,buttherestofhimiscovered.
DidIunbuttonhisshirt?
Ugh.Iforgotabouthistattoo.
Andhisperfectlyproportionednipples.
Eveninthemorning,freshofftheboozetrain,he’sgorgeous.
“Whatthehellareyoudoing?”heasks,pressingapalmtohiseye.
“Whyareyouinmybed?”
Heglancesaround.“HellifIknow.”Heblinksafewtimes.“Whyareyourtitsoutofyourdress?”
“Theywentroguelastnight.Ithasnothingtodowithyou.”Iturnawayandstuffthestubbornladiesbackin.Dignityandall.OnceI’mtuckedaway,Iturnbackaroundtofindthesmallestofsmirksonhislips,andgoodGod,myloinspracticallythrowthemselvesathim.
Deadly.Heispositivelydeadlywithasmirk.
Tryingtocontrolmyself,Isay,“Yourchesthairisreallysoft.Whatlittlechesthairyouhave,thatis.”
Heglancesdownatthesmallpatchbetweenhispecsandthenbackupatme.“Iputleave-inconditionerinit.”
“Really?”Ididn’ttakehimforaleave-inconditionerkindofguy,althoughhishairisluscious.
“No.”Hestands,andthat’swhenIseehisjeansareunbuttoned,revealingapeekofhisblackunderwear.
Ofcoursehe’dhaveblackunderwear.Idon’tknowwhythat’saturn-onforme,butitis.Soaretheabscarvedintohistaughtstomachandthelittlepatchofhairrightabovehiswaistline.
“Checkingmeout,Bonnie?”
Icrossmyarmsovermychestandlookaway.“I’dratherburnmyeyesoutwithacid.”
Hechuckles,andjustlikethat.?.?.mynipplesarehard.
“Goodtoknow.”Hegrabshisshoesandmovesaroundthebed,throughthecrampedroom,anddownthestairs.
“Whereareyougoing?”Iask,chasingafterhim—forGodknowswhatreason.
“Home.Ineedtowashyourstinkoffme.”
“Idon’tstink,”Iscoffaswemakeitintothelivingroom.Hesitsdownonthecouchandputshisbootson,hisfingersflyingthroughthelaces.Idon’tthinkI’veeverseensomeonetietheirbootsthatfast.
WhyisthatsomethingI’mnoticing?
Iblamethehangover.
Whenhestands,hetiltshisheadtotheside,studyingmeasheslowlybuttonsuphisshirt—atotaldetrimenttosociety.Hemightdrivemecrazy,buthisbodywasmadetobenakedatalltimes.
“Youlooksad.Doyounotwantmetoleave?”heasksinateasingtone.
“Oh,Idef—”
“Uh.?.?.goodmorning,”IhearDakotasaybehindme.
Iquicklyspinaroundtofindherstandinginherbedroomdoorway,aslysmileturningupherlips.
Oof,howcouldIforgetDakotawashere?IprobablyassumedshewenthomewithIsla.AlthoughnoteveryoneworkslikeIdo—bringinganorgasmproducerhomebutfailingtoreceivesaidorgasm.
NotthatIwouldwanthimtogivemeone.
Yeah,Iknow,Ididn’tbelievethatlastsentenceeither,butIfigured,youknow.?.?.tosavefaceandall.
“Morning,lass,”Rowansayscasually,asifstandinginourhousewithhisshirthalf-undoneandjeansopeniscompletelyandutterlynormal.“HowwasyourdatewithIsla?”
Dakotafrownsandglancescautiouslybetweenus.“Itwasnice.”
“Didyoukiss?”Iask,claspingmyhandstogetheratmychest,momentarilyforgettingmypredicament.
“No.”Dakota’sfacebrightens.“Wedidholdhands,though,whilewewentforawalk.”
“Oh,bestillmyheart,”Igush.TurningtoRowan,Igrabthelapelsofhisshirtandshakehim—oratleastattemptto.“Didyouhearthat?Theyheldhands.”
“Whichpalesincomparisontowhateveryoutwodidlastnight,”Dakotasays.
Iwavemyhandather.“Nothinghappened.”ToRowan,Iwhisper,“Nothinghappened,right?”
“Hertitsthrewthemselvesatme,andshetoldmemychestfeltlikeachinchilla.”
“Isaidthatoutloud?”
“Mumbledit,”hesays,awkwardlypattingmeontheback.
“Whata.?.?.thrillingnight,”Dakotasays,stilllookingconfused.“Soisthis.?.?.”Shewagsherfingerbetweenus.“Athing?”
“What?No.”Ishakemyhead.“Nope.No.?.?.no.”
“Ifyoudidn’tgetthat,it’sasolidno,”Rowanchimesin.
“Okay.”Dakotarocksonherheels.“Wouldyouliketostayforbreakfast,Rowan?”
“Oh,hehastogetgoing—”
“Wouldloveto.”Hepatsmeonthebackagainandthenmakeshiswaytothekitchen,shirtandjeansstillundone.“ShallIcookusupsomeeggsandtoast?”
“Thatwouldbegreat,”Dakotasays,smirkingatme.
Whydoesitfeellikethey’reonthesameteam—oneIamforbiddentojoin?
“So,tellusaboutyourdate,”Isay,sittingdownatthediningtablewithDakotawhileRowanmovesaroundinthekitchen.
“Itwasreallygood.”Dakotaplayswithanapkinonthetable.“She’sprettyawesome,butRowanalreadyknowsthis.”
“Ido,”hesays,hisperfectlydeepvoiceaddingtotheconversation.“She’squitethecatch.”
“Whatdidyoutalkabout?”
“Everything.Ourchildhoods,howdifferenttheywere.Spokeaboutourfriendship,andhoweventhoughIdon’thavesiblings,you’vealwaysbeenasistertome.”
“True.Ihavenoproblemfightingyouforthelastpieceofcake.”
“Clawsoutandeverything,”shesays,andwebothlaugh.“ButitwasalsonicetohavesomeoneactuallylookmeintheeyewhileIspoke.ItfeltlikeshecaredaboutwhatIhadtosay.Isabellawasneverlikethat.Maybealittleatfirst,butthen.?.?.Idon’tknow.Ifeltmorelikeapuppettoherthananything.”
Inod,rememberingjusthowtoxicthatentirerelationshipwas.“Tellmeaboutthehandholding.”
“Well,sheaskedifIwantedtogoforawalk,andofcourseIwantedtosinceyouandRowanwerestartingtogetrowdyandloud.”
“Werewe?”
Dakotalaughs.“Uh,yeah.Itwasquitethesighttobehold.”
Icringe.“Sorry.”
“It’sokay,youwerehavingfun.Youneedfun.”
Rowanglancesoverhisshoulderatmefromthestove,andIquicklylookaway.Idon’twanthimtoseeanyounceofvulnerability,becauseyeah,Ididhavefunlastnight—atleastfromwhatIcanremember.
IhadoneofthebesttimesI’vehadinalongtimethatdidn’tinvolveDakota.Hehelpedtakemymindoffmynaggingneedtoprovesomethingtomyself,tofindanythingthatshowsI’montherighttrack,thatI’mworthy.It’safeelingthat’sbeenplaguingmeforwhatfeelslikeeverysecondoftheday,andheerasedthat.Hehelpedmerelax,chill,justenjoylifeforamomentratherthanfocusonwhatIcouldhavedonedifferentlythelastfewyears.
Yes,wemightbickerandpickoneachother,butIknowit’sallingoodspirit.Ilikeaguywhodoesn’tholdback,andRowandoesn’t.Hesayswhateverisonhismind.Itcanbeterrifyingattimes,butalsothrilling.AndthatrealizationisstartlingbecauseIthink.?.?.ohGod.?.?.IthinkImightbehavingsomesortofaffectionatefeelingstowardtheman.
No.?.?.
Right?
Itmustjustbeindigestionfromthebeerlastnight.
Atleast,that’swhatI’mgoingtotellmyself,becausethereisnowayIwanttofacethesefeelingsrightnow.I’dratherlaydownthedenialcard,thankyouverymuch.
“So,thehandholding.”Inudgeherunderthetable,asignIwanthertomoveon.
“Yes,well,westartedwalkingthroughtown,alongtheloch.IwastellingheraboutLAwhensheslippedherhandintomine.”
“Smooth,”Rowansays,andIdetectahintofprideinhisvoice.
“Iwasalittlesurprisedatfirst,butthenitfeltsoright,andwewoveourfingerstogether.Itwasperfect.IhadsomanybutterfliestakeoffinmystomachthatitalmostfeltlikeIcouldn’tbreathe.”
“Gah,myheartcan’ttakethis.”IreachoverandtakeDakota’shand.“I’msoexcitedforyou.So,doesthismeanyou’llgooutagain?”
“Ifsheasks,Iwill.”
“Whydon’tyouaskher?”Rowanchimesin,bringingtwoplatesoffoodtothetable.Hesetstheminfrontofuswithsilverwareandthenreturnstothecounter,leaningagainstitandpickingupaplateforhimself.Hegrabsaforkandstartstodigin,andIrealizesomething—hemightdrivemecrazyandhemightbethegrumpiestpersonI’veevermet,butunderneathitall,he’saverykindandcaringman.
Aprotector.
Someonewholikestoserveothers.
Idon’tthinkI’veevermetamanlikehim.It’sscary,yetrefreshing.
“I’veneveraskedsomeoneoutbefore,”Dakotaadmits.“WhatwouldIevensay?”
“Simple,”Rowansays.“Justsay,‘Hey,IhadagreattimeFridaynight.Wouldyouwanttodoitagainsometime?’”
“That’sagreatwaytoputit,”Isay,thoughitfeelsoddtoagreewithRowan.
“Youthink?”Dakotapushessomeeggsaround.“Itmakesmesonervous.”
“ThinkabouthownervousIslawastoaskyououtinthefirstplace,”Rowanpointsout.“Beingtheonlylesbian—orgayperson—inasmalltownmeansthatdatinghashaditschallenges,andwhenshehasventuredout,she’sbeenburnedeverytime.Askingyououtwasabigdeal.?.?.andprobablywhysheinvitedthethirdwheeltoo.”Rowannodstowardme.
“Iwasaverycharmingthirdwheel.”
“‘Charming’isastretch.”I’mabouttoprotestwhenhewinksandthenshovesaforkfulofeggsintohismouth.
GoodGod,ifhewinkslikethatagain,I’llpopmybreastsbackoutofthisdressandshimmytheminfrontofhisface.Noshame.
“Youthinkshe’dappreciateitifIaskedherout?Wedidn’tkissoranything—maybeshedidn’tthinkitwasagooddate.”
“Ifsheheldyourhand,itwasagooddate.Trustme,Islaworksslow.Askherout,Dakota.Ibetit’llreallymakeherday.”
“Yeah?”
Rowannods.“Yeah.”
“Okay,thenI’lldoit.”Dakotapuffsherchest.“I’llaskherout.Thanks,Rowan.”
“Anytime.”
Dakotaisinthebathroom,gettingreadyforherbigday,whileIlazeaboutatthediningtable,watchingRowanfinishupwiththedishesthatheinsisteduponwashing.
He’ssohotandcoldallthetime.Ihonestlydon’tknowhowtoreadhim.AllIknowisthatlastnightandthismorning—especiallythismorning—he’sputadentinthearmorIwearwhenI’maroundhim.
Heswitchesoffthewater,drieshishands,andthenturnsaround,grippingthecounterandleaningagainstit,eyestrainedonme.Hisshirtandjeansarebuttonednow,buthestillhasafresh-from-bedlook,whichisdoingcrazythingstowhateverresolveIhaveleft.
“Thankyou,”Isaybeforehecanopenhismouth.
“Whatfor?”
“Well,forbreakfastandthedishes,butmainlyforgivingDakotatheconfidencesheneededtotakethatnextstep—oneI’mnotsureshe’dhavemadewithoutsomeinsiderencouragement.”
“DakotaremindsmealotofIsla—softspoken,sweet,andshywhenitcomestorelationships.Theybothneedapush,abitofhelptomakethosestepstowardcreatingsomethingtheywant.”
Irestmychininmyhandandgivehimalonglook.“You’reverythoughtful,Rowan.”
“NotthearseholeyouthinkIam,huh?”
“Neverthoughtyouwere.Just.?.?.Idon’tknow.Youknowhowtopressmybuttons.”
“Same,lass.”Hepushesoffthecounterandstuffshishandsinhispockets.“I’mgoingtotakeoff.I’llseeyouaround.”
He’sstartedtothedoorwhenIcallout,“Holdon.”Igetoutofmychairandclosethedistancebetweenus.
Idon’tknowwhatI’mabouttodo,butIknowIneedtodosomething,becausethereareaboutahundreddifferentemotionsbuzzingthroughme,bubblingupandneedingrelease.
Feelingawkwardandhopinghedoesn’tpushmeaway,Ireachoutandwrapmyarmsaroundhiswaist.Ipauseforamoment,waitingforareaction,andwhenhedoesn’tmove,Itakethatasagoodsignandgivehimahug.
Holdingmybreath,Iwaitforwhatfeelslikeminutes,butisonlyseconds,beforehisarmsencirclemeaswellandhepullsmeintight.Ipressmycheektohischest,rememberinghowgoodthisfeltwhenwewereupatCorsekellyCastle.Anditfeelssogoodnowthatourhuglasts,stretchingonandon.
WhenIfinallypullaway,hefixesmewithastare.“Whatwasthatfor?”
Ishrug.“Thoughtmaybeyouneededahug.”
Heslowlynods.“Didn’tthinkIdid.?.?.untilyougavemeone.”
Theairstillsbetweenus,despitethefreshbreezewaftinginfromtheopenkitchenwindow.Theprolongedanticipationthat’sbeenbuildingbetweenus—thehate,thefights,thecuriosity,theattraction—itfeelslikeit’scollidingallatonce,inthismoment,andit’salmostunbearable.
Boldly,hiseyesrakeoverme,restingalittlelongeronmybreastsandthenclimbingtomyeyes.Theyflare,entranced,asIlickmylips.Thesmolderingflameflickeringinhiseyes,theriseandfallofhisthickchest,theclenchofhisjaw—allsignsthatmaybe,justmaybe,thepullI’mfeelingtowardthismanisn’tjustme.Thatheverywellmightbeexperiencingthesamething.
Hetakesastepforward,hishandslidesaroundmywaist,andIsweartoGodIcanfeelmykneesweakenashisstronghandgripsmyside.Hisotherhandliftsmychinashewetshislips.Iholdmybreath.
Waiting,anticipating.?.?.hopingthathismouthdescendsonmine.Hopingthat,eventhoughwemightbeateachother’sthroats,hefindsitasexcitingasIdo.
Histhumbpullsonmylip,andhelowersjustalittlebitmore—untilDakotaopensthebathroomdoorandwalksout,whistlingaTaylorSwiftsong.
Rowanquicklystepsawayandpusheshishandthroughhishair,turninghisbacktome.
Goddamnit,Dakota.Shedoesn’tevencomeintothelivingroom—shewalksstraightintoherbedroomwithoutgivingusaglance.
“Ishouldgo,”Rowansays,notlookingatmebutinsteadduckinghisheadandmovingtowardthedoor.
“Wait!”Icallout,desperate.“I.?.?.uh.?.?.canyou,um.?.?.”Jesus,spititout,Bonnie.“Canyouhelpmewithsomething?”
Helooksoverhisshoulder.“Rightnow?”
“No,”Isay,eventhoughIwanttosayyes.Iwanttoaskhimifhecanhelpmewiththeachebetweenmylegs.Hey-o.“Later,canyoustopbythecoffeeshop?”
“Sure.”Hisbrowfurrows.“Everythingokay?”
“Yeah.”Notreally.I’mnervous,excited.Iwanttostayinhisarms.AndIwanttotalkthroughmythoughtsabouttheshop,butI’mscaredhemightthinkthey’restupid,notworthyofconsideration.
“Okay.”Hetakesastepaway,andIhearhimexhaleharshlybeforeheturnsaround,grabsmebythehand,andpullsmeintoanothertighthug.Withhischinrestingonmyhead,hesays,“Ihadfunlastnight.”
“Ididtoo,”Iadmit,feelingthosebutterfliesDakotawastalkingabout.
Hesqueezesmeandthentakesoff,givingmeabriefwavebeforeexitingthecottage.
AlargesmileeruptsovermyfaceasIwatchhimwalkaway.
Ohno.?.?.thisisn’tgoodatall.
It’shappening.IthinkI’mcrushingonKiltyMcGrumpyshire.
“Hey,lasses,”Islasays,walkingintothecoffeehousewithabasketofshortbreadandDundeecake.GodblessDakotaforsnaggingthebakerintown.“Ibroughtyousomereplenishments.”
“Youdidn’thavetodo—”
“You’readoll,”Isay,cuttingDakotaoffandtakingthebasket.“Iwascravingshortbreadthismorningaftermywalk.”
“DidyoudotheHairyCooFootpath?”Islaasks,leaningagainstthecounternearDakota.
“Idid,andIloveitsomuch.Thosehairycoosareadorable.MightbemyfavoritepartofScotland.”
“Oh,Rowanisn’t?”Islateaseswithawink,makingDakotalaughoutloud.
“Didyouhearhestayedthenight?”Dakotasays.
Islanods.“Idid.Caughthimdoin’thewalkofshameonthewaytothebakery.”
“There’snowalkofshame.Nothinghappened.Wejustpassedoutinmybed.Trustme,ifsomethinghappened,myladypartswouldknowaboutit.Let’sjustsayit’sbeenquitealongtimesinceI’vedonethewalkofshame.”
“Interesting.Helookedlikehegotsomelastnight,”Islasays,whichpiquesmyinterest.
“Isthatso?”Ileanmychinintomyhandandbatmyeyelashesatherfromoverthecounter.“Please,tellmemore.”
Shechuckles.“Hewassmiling,andit’snotveryoftenRowansmiles.”
Ipressmyhandtomychest,andIcan’thelpbutfeelasenseofaccomplishment.“Ididthattohim.Imadehimsmile.”
“Aye,somethingdid,andI’mguessingifhespentthenightatyourplace,youplayedarole.”
“Hemadeusbreakfastanddidthedishes,”Dakotasays.“Hewasactuallyreallysweet.Didn’tevenask,juststartedtakingcareofus.”
“That’sRowanforyou,”Islasayswistfully.“Hemighthaveahardexterior,buthe’squitegentle,andhetakescareofhisown.I’mstartingtoguessthathe’sseeingyouaspartofhissmallinnercircle.Youtwoarelucky.”
That’sagoodwaytoputit,becauseIfeellucky.Rowanseemslikethekindofpersonwhodoesn’tbringmanypeopleintohislife,butwhenhedoes,hedoeseverythinghecantokeeptheminandtakecareofthem.It’sevidentinthewayhespeaksofIslaandherneedtobeaskedoutforachange,orinhowhesteeredmeawaysosheandDakotacouldhaveanightalone.He’sconsiderate,andI’mwonderingifmyannoyancewithhimearlierblindedmetothat.
“Icantellhe’sagoodman.IthinkBonnieshouldgoforhim,”Dakotasayswithaknowinglook.
“Ithinksotoo,”Islasaysasbothoftheirgazesfallonme.
“Thankyouforyouropinion,ladies,butIthinkyoutwoshouldjustfocusonyourselvesfornow.Whichremindsme,Dakota,shouldn’tyoubeaskingIsla—?”
“Isla,whydon’tIwalkyouout?”DakotacutsmeoffbeforeIembarrassher.
“Ohaye.”Shegivesmeawave.“Enjoythebasket.Don’teatittoofast.”
Ishoveashortbreadcookieinmymouth.“Iwon’t,”Isayasitmeltsonmytongue.“Iknowhowtopacemyself.”Ipickupanothercookieandshoveitinmymouth.Sogood.
Sofreakinggood.
Together,theywalkoutofthecoffeeshop,and,beingthenosyfriendthatIam,Itiptoeuptothedoor,readytoeavesdrop.JustasIreachthethresholdandleananearout,alargebodyblocksme.
Mymouthstillfullofshortbread,Islowlymovemyeyesupthebroadframeandfindacuriouspairofgreeneyeslookingdownatme.
“Caretotellmewhatyou’redoing?”
“Eavesdropping,”Isayascrumbsfallfrommymouth.“Caretojoinme?”
Rowannudgesmyshoulder,movingmeoutoftheway.“No.Givethemspace.”
“Butwhatifshe’sdoingitwrong?”
“Shewon’t.”
“But—”
“Givethemspace,”hesaysalittlemoresternly.
“Ugh.”Ibackaway.“You’retakingallthefunoutofmyfriendship.Weintrudeoneachother’slives.That’swhatwedo—it’swhatkeepsusalive.”
“Aye,well,notthistime.”Herunsahanddownmyshoulder,andhislargepalmconnectswithmine—whichdistractsmejustlongenoughforhimtopullmedeeperintothecoffeeshop,wherewebothtakeaseatatoneofthetables.“Whatdoyouneedhelpwith?”Hereleasesmyhand,andIkindofwanttoaskhimifhe’dholditagain.
“Ineedhelplisteninginonmyfriend.”
“Bonnie.”
“What?”Ismilewidelyathim.
“Letthembe.”
“You’rereallyannoying.”
“Soyou’vetoldme.Now,unlessyouactuallyneedhelpwithsomething,I’mgoingtoleave.”Hestartstostand,butIquicklygrabhishandandtughimbackdown.
“No,Idoneedyourhelp.”Inodtowardthecoffeemaker.“CanIgetyousomeordinarycoffee?”
Heshakeshishead.“I’mgood.”
“Okay.”Icrossonelegovertheother.Icatchhisgazelandonmyfreshlyshavedlegsforabriefmomentbeforetheytraveluptomyface,sendingashiverofluststraightupmyspine.
Onelook—that’sallittakeswherethismanisconcerned.
Onelook,andI’mreadytobounceupanddownonhislap.
Iclearmythroat.“Haveyouseenthereviewsforthecoffeeshoponthetourbuswebsites?”
“Therearereviews?”heasks,lookingconfused.
“Yes.Allthetourbuscompaniesprovideinformationforeachstop,andinCorsekelly,almostallthereviewssaynottobotherwiththecoffeeshopbecausethere’snothingspecialaboutit.”
“That’snot.?.?.”Hisvoicefadesashelooksaroundtheemptyspace.“Well,itwasn’talwayslikethis.”
“Butitisnow,andsomethingneedstobedone.We’vebeenhereforovertwoweeks,andIthinkI’veservedcoffeeadozentimes.We’vehaddayswheretheonlyvisitorwasFergus.”
“Mymawcouldn’ttakeitallon.Itwastoomuch.”Herunshishanddownhisface.“Stilldon’tunderstandwhymydaretired.Ireallythink.?.?.”Rowanbitesthesideofhismouth.“Hell,Ithinkmydamightbesick,andhe’snottellingme.Heinsistedhewasjusttiredandtheyhadenoughinsavingsandretirementforhimtobedone.Butitwastoohardformymawtoletgo.Shelovesbeingintown,talkingtoeveryone,butshedoesn’tknowhowtokeepuporhowtocreateanygrandideastoactuallyimprovetheshop.”Hechucklestohimself.“Theonlygrandideashehadwastoblastthejobadvertonsocialmedia,andlookwhatthatdid.”Henodsatme.“BroughttwonosyandirritatingAmericansintotown.”
“I’mgoingtotakethatasacompliment,becauseIknowforafactthatI’mgrowingonyou.”Ifluffmyhair.
“Aye,andhowdoyouknowthat?”hesays,nudgingmylegplayfully.
“Uh,doyounotrememberthehugbeforeyouleftthecottage,confessingyouhadfunwithme?”
“IthinkIwasstilldrunk.”Hesmirks,andImelt.
“Nicetry,Grumpyshire.You’retotallyintothis.”Imotionmyhandupanddownmybodyandwatchhisteethtugonhislowerlipwhilehetakesmein.
DearJesus,pleasehelpmekeepmyshirtonrightnow.
Hiseyesreturntomine.“So,what’syouridea?”heasks.“Iknowyouhaveonebrewinginthatheadofyours.”
“Iwashopingwecouldoverhaulthecoffeehouse.Freshenitup,bringbackthebutteries,andaddmorecoffeechoices—realones.Makeitcozyinhere,aplacewheretouristswanttostopin.WecouldsellmerchandisethatcentersontheBoabyStoneandFergus,thethingsthatmakethistownunique.Eventhehairycoos.Wedon’tevenhaveanypamphletsthatdirecttouristswheretogo.Youcoulddosomuch—likeatownbingo.You’ddistributethecardstothetourbusesaheadoftime,andinthehalfhourthey’rehere,there’dbeafewthingsthetouristshavetodo,havetovisit,andthenthey’dgetafreeshirtorsomething.Idon’tknow,I’mjustspitballinghere,butthere’ssomuchpotential,especiallywiththepopularityofIronCrowns,whichIsawonline—justsignedonforthreemoreseasons.”
Hescratchesthesideofhisjaw.“Whathappenswhenyougobackhome?You’llbeleavingmymawtohandleitallonherown?”
“WhosaysI’mleaving?MaybeIlikeCorsekellyandwanttolivehere.MaybeI’llfindastrappingladwhosweepsmeoffmyfeet.SomeonelikeLeithorLachlan.Ormaybebothofthem.Idon’tmindshackingupwithtwohottwinswhoprancearoundtowninkiltsandliftlogsastheirworkout.”
“Theycouldn’thandleyou.”
“Oh?”Icrossmyarmsovermychest.“Andyouthinkyou’retheauthorityonwhocanhandleme?”
“Aye.”Theintensityofhisgazenearlyoverwhelmsme.
Isigh.Nowisnotthetimetogetintoanotherheatedbattle.“IfIdoendupleaving,I’llbesuretohelpyourmomfindareliableemployee.Hell,shebroughtintwoAmericans—I’mprettysurewecouldfindsomeonewhowouldn’tmindstayinginastorybookcottageinScotland’scutesttown.Notahardsell,Rowy.”
“Don’tcallmethat,”hesaysquickly,andIchuckle.
“Comeon.”Inudgehisfoot.“Thinkabouthowthiswouldhelpyourmom,yourparents.Maybethere’ssomethingtheyalwayswantedwhenitcametothecoffeehouse.Wecouldmakeithappen.”
Hemullsitoverashetakesintheshop,reallygivingitagoodlook.“Itisshiteinhere,”headmits,whichmakesmelaughagain.“Irememberwhenthisplacewasfulloflife.”Helooksatme.“Whydoyouwanttodothis?”
“Truth?”
“Aye.”
“IrelatetothiscoffeehousemorethanIcaretoadmit.Oncehadallthepotentialintheworld,butovertime,lostitsluster.?.?.itspurpose.Makingitshinewillgivemesomethingtodo,somethingthatactuallymakesmefeellikeI’mcontributingratherthanjustlivingamundanelife.”
“Youhavepurpose,Bonnie,”hesays,andeventhoughit’sasweetstatement,itringsfalse.
“IthoughtIdid.”Ishakemyhead.“It’sbeenhardtofindlately.Ifeellikethiswillgivemepurpose,somethingtofocusonandawaytoapplymyself.Ineed.?.?.”Iletoutaheavybreath.“IneedtofeellikeI’museful,Rowan.Rightnow,Icouldn’tthinkanylessofmyself.”
“Hey.”HeliftsmychinsoIseethecrinkleinhisbrow.“Weallhaveourlowmoments.Trustme.Notallofusarelivingourtruth.Notcompletely.”
“Areyoutalkingaboutyourself?”Iask,anditfeelslikesomebarrierbetweenusjustbrokefromthisoneconfession.
“Aye.”Helooksawayandstandsfromhischair,pullingonthebackofhisneck.“TheplanwastoleaveCorsekelly,todosomethingbetter,somethingIreallywanted,butthatplanchangedinaninstant.”
“Whathappened?”Iask.
He’sopeninghismouthtoanswerjustasDakotacomesbarrelingthroughthedoor.“Islasaidyes!”Shetossesherarmsupintheairanddancesinplace.“OhmyGod,shesaidyes.”
Terrible,terribletiming,Dakota.
But,oh,I’mhappyformyfriend.Reallyexcited,actually.
“That’sgreat,”Rowansays,givingmeaquicklookbeforepattingDakotaontheshoulder.
“Thankyouforencouragingme.”Dakotawrapshimupinahugandsqueezeshimtight.Whenshepullsaway,sheturnstomewithagrin.“Iseewhatyou’retalkingabout,allthosemuscles.”
DearGod,Dakota.Afilter,please.
Rowanstepsawayandturnstowardthedoor.“I’msureyoutwohavealottotalkabout.I’llleaveyoutoit.”
“Wait,Rowan,weweren’tdone.”
“Justdowhatever,Bonnie.”BeforeIcananswer,hetakesoff,thedoorshuttingbehindhim.
Dakotashootsmeaconfusedlook.“DidIinterruptsomething?”
Normallymyresponsewouldbesarcastic,butIdon’twanttotakeawayfromherbigmoment.Ishakemyhead.“Soshesaidyes,huh?Tellmeallaboutit.”
Smilingbrightly,sherecountstheentireconversation,andeventhoughI’mdyingtoknowwhatRowanwasgoingtosay,Icouldnotbehappierinthismoment.
“Hey,Leith,”Isay,walkinguptothehigh-toptablehe’soccupyinginthepub.
“Bonnie,you’relookingbeautifultonight.”Hepullsmeintoatighthug,envelopingmeinhiswoodsycologne.It’snice.
“Thankyou.You’reveryhandsomeyourself.”
Itakeastepbackasheadjuststhecollarofhisshirt.“Iironedthismyself.”
“Well,youdidasuperiorjob.”
“Thankyou.Now,whatcanIhelpyouwith?Iknowyou’relookingforsomething,becauseyouhavealittlecrinklebetweenyoureyes.”Hepokesmyforeheadandchuckles.
“AmIthatobvious?”
“Aye.”Henods.
“IwaslookingforRowan.Iwashopinghe’dbehere.Wehavesomeunfinishedbusiness.”
“Doesthishavetodowithhimwalkingoutofyourcottagethismorning?Islatoldmeshespottedtheoldscoundrel.”
Wow,newsspreadsevenquickerherethaninLosAngeles,wherepeopleliveandbreathebygossipwebsites.
“Nothinghappened.”
“SoI’vebeentold.”Heshakeshishead.“Ifitwereme,somethingwouldhavehappened.You’reafinelass,quitethecatch.”
Ichuckleandtiphischin.“Andyou’requitetheladies’man.”
“Trytobe,butIkenit’sthebroodyoneyou’reafter.”
Ishakemyhead.“Notafterhim;justneedtotalktohim.”
“Soyou’retellingmethere’sstillachance?”
Ishrug.“Neversaynever.”
Hefistpumpstheairplayfully.“I’lltakeit.”
“Now,wouldyoubeabletotellmewhereRowanis?”
“Mostlikelyhunkereddowninhiscottage.”
Well,that’snothelpful.Ipursemylipsandlooktotheside,tryingtofigureoutwhattodonext.
“Icantellyouhowtogetthereifyouwant.Aboutafive-minutewalkfromhere.”
LookatLeithbeingagoodfriend.HeverywellmightbemyfavoriteMurdachnow
“Youdon’tthinkhe’dgetmad?”
Leithgivesmeagoodonce-over.“Ifyoushowedupatmydoor,Idefinitelywouldn’tbemad.”
“Okay,okay,enoughwiththeflirting—you’regoingtomakemeblush.”
Hechuckles.“WeScotsarequitethecharmers.Now,comehere.”Hestandsfromhisseatandguidesmeoutthefrontdoorandaroundthecorner.“Seethatroadoverthere,LochLane?”Hepointstoastreetjustaroundthepetrolstation.“Takethatallthewaytotheend.You’llcometoacottageontheright—can’tmissit.Navy-bluedoor.That’sRowan’splace.”
“Thatseemsprettyeasy.”
“Can’tgetlost.Goodluck,lass.”
Withaquickgoodbye,ItakeoffdownLochLane,admiringallthelittlecottagesIpassontheway.Ican’timaginehowanyonewouldwanttolivesomewhereelse.Ittrulyfeelslikeanentirelymade-upworldouthere,aworldyouonlyseeinmoviesandstorybooks.AsIcometotheendofthelane,Ispotacottageontheright,tuckedbehindsometrees.Itsdoorispaintednavyblue.
Astonewallcirclesthefrontofthecottagewithanoldirongate,pottedflowershangoffthehouseonhooks,andthewhitewallsglisteninthesun.It’sabeautifullittlecottage,andIcouldeasilyseeitservingashisoasis—aplacetotuckhimselfawayatnight,anescapeafteralongdayinasmalltown.
JustlikewhereDakotaandIarestaying.
NervesbloominmystomachasIwalkthroughthegate,whichcreaksoutmyarrival.Ihopethiswasagoodidea.MydeterminationtogettothebottomofwhatRowanwasstartingtosayatthecoffeeshopwanes,andregretcreepsin.WhatifhetrulywantstobealoneandI’mbarginginonthattime?
Ilookbehindme,downLochLane.Therooftopsoftownpeekoutbeyondagroveoftrees.Icouldrunawayundetected—
Thedoortothecottagesuddenlyopens,revealingRowan,standinginapairoflow-hangingsweatpantsandnothingelse.
Uh,Idon’tthinksomeonecouldgetmetofleeeveniftherewasafire.Idon’tmindtheprospectofstaringatthismanallnight.
Hishandgripstheedgeofthedoor,hisknuckleswhiteningfromhowhardhe’ssqueezingthewood.Icatcharippleinhisforearmasmyeyestraveloverhisintricatetattootohisclenchedjawandnarrowedeyes.
God,angrylookssosexyonhim.
“CanIcomein?”Iask.
I’mmetwithsilenceashiseyesdoaslowonce-over,travelingupmyleggingsandplainT-shirt.AndjustwhenIthinkhe’sabouttosayno,hepushesthedooropenalittlemore.Iduckunderhisarmandwalkintohiscottage.
It’ssimple,clean,andeverythingIwouldexpectfromhim.Totherightsitsablackleathercouchfacingasmallfireplace.There’snoTVinsight,butinstead,anopenbookisturnedfacedownonthecoffeetable.Totheleftisasmallkitchenandatwo-persondiningtable.It’sjustlikeourcottage,butRowan’sisbetterorganized,withnewerwoodcabinetsandmodernhardware.Abovethecoffeemakerisarowofbeautifullycraftedmugs,hangingfromhooksandbringingasenseofcolortothewhite,rusticspace.
Whenheshutsthedoor,Iturntofacehim,andhiseyesrakeovermeonemoretime.Helookslikeawolfontheprowl,andI’mtheprey.It’sequallyterrifyingandexhilarating.
“Uh.?.?.Leithtoldmewhereyoulive.”
Hedoesn’tsayanything,soIkeepongoing,mypulserisingeverysecond.
“Iwantedtofinishourconversationfromearlier.Ididn’tthinkithadaproperconclusion.”
Nothing.Notaquirktothebrow,notatickinthejaw.Justarmscrossed,staringatme.
“Wereyou,uh,interestedinfinishingthatconversation?”Iask,twistingmyhandstogether,ajitterysensationbouncinginsideme.
Rowanisaprivateperson.Iknowthis.DidIjustcompletelyoverstepmybounds?
Thenagain,ifhedidn’twantmehere,hewouldn’thaveletmein,right?
Motioningtohiscottage,Isay,“You’vedonealovelyjobwiththespace.Ilikethesubtlepopsofcolor.”
Herunsahandalongthesideofhisjaw,and.?.?.canIjustpauseforasecondandappreciatethespecimeninfrontofme?
Chiseled,sculpted,aScottishAdoniswithahandsomefaceandtheperfectamountofscruffonhisjaw,whichseemstoneverchangeinlength.He’sunlikeanymanI’veeverseeninpersonbuthavealwaysdreamedup.HiscarvedVbordersanextremesetofabs.Hislargepecsconnecttoboulder-likearmsandlarge,sexyhands.
Andwhenangervibratesthroughhim—likeitisnow—everyoneofhismusclesfiresoff.It’squitethesighttobehold.
“Areyougoingtosaysomething?”Iask,feelingmyselfshrinkinhispresence,beneathhisintimidatingstare.“Becauseit’srudetoinvitesomeoneinbutnottalk.Youhavecompany,Rowan—beagoodhost.”
Hisjawworkssidetosidebutremainsclampedshut.
Well,thisseemstohavebeenahugemistake.
Notinthemoodforablowup,Iletoutaheavy,defeatedbreath.Ishouldprobablyleave—catchhimonanotherdaywhenhe’sreadytobehuman,notaNeanderthal.
“Okay,well,thiswasalovelyvisit.Thankyouforthehospitality.”
Ipushpasthim,buthereachesoutandgentlytakesmyarm,haltingmeinplace.We’restandingsidebyside—hefacesonedirection,andIfacetheother.“Coffee?”hequietlyasks.
“Uh.?.?.sure.”
Slowly,hereleasesmyarm,andhisfingerstrailovermyskinlikefeathers,sendingashiverupmyspineashepullsaway.
Hestridestothekitchen,keepinghisbacktowardme.Iwatchhimprepareasimplepotofcoffeeandthenpulltwomugsfromthehooks.Whilethecoffeebrews,heopensacabinetthat’snexttothefridgeandpullsoutaTupperwarecontainerfullof.?.?.ohdearGod.
It’scake.
Thingsareabouttogetembarrassing.
“Isthat,uh.?.?.cakeyou’vegotoverthere?”
Hedoesn’tanswer.
“Becauseifso,youknowIwouldloveapiece,bigguy.”
Hepullstwobeautifullymadeplatesoffashelf,thesamestyleasthemugs.Thenhecutstwopiecesofcake,putsthemontheplateswithforks,andbringsthemtothecoffeetable,justasthecoffeemakerbeeps.
Hefillseachmug.“Creamorsugar?”
“Both,”Ianswer,standingawkwardlyinthemiddleofhiscottage,unsureofwhattodowithmyhands—ormybody,forthatmatter.DoIsitdown?DoIwaitforhim?DoIsnagthecakeandsprintoutthedoor?
Optionthreeislookingprettypromising—thatis,untilheturnsaroundwithtwomugsandIcatchsightofhimoncemore.
Yeah,there’snowayIwouldbeabletoleaveatthispoint.I’mdedicatedtowatchinghispecsflextonight.
Heheadstowardthecouch,thentakesaseatandsetseverythingdownonthecoffeetable.Whenhelooksupatme,heasks,“Areyougoingtositdownorstandthereallnight?”
“Well,youknow,you’vemadethingsquiteuncomfortable.”Imovearoundthecouchandtakeaseat.“I’mnotsureI’mevenallowedtobreatheinyourspace.”
“Youcanbreathe.”
“Oh,lookatthat,youcantalk.”Heslidesamugovertomysideandthenleansbackonthecouch,staringatme.
Buthedoesn’tjuststare.Hepracticallylooksintomysoulashisarmcasuallydrapesalongthebackofthecouch.
“So.”Ipatmylap.“Arewejustgoingtolookateachother?”Hedoesn’tanswer,andIcan’ttakeitanymore.It’sprobablysomesortofScottishintimidationtacticthatI’munawareof,butthere’sonlysomuchsilenceIcanendurebeforeIstarttolosemymind.
I’vehitthatpoint.
Ireachoutandpushagainsthisleg.“Whatiswrongwithyou?”Iscootcloser,pokinghiminthequad,determinedtoannoyhimuntilhesayssomething.“Talktome.Saysomething—anything.Juststopsittingthereinsilencewithoutawordor—”
“Youlookbeautifultonight,Bonnie.”Andjustlikethat,hestealsmybreathfromme.Helooksaway,clenchinghisfistandopeningit,asifhe’stryingtocontrolhimself.
“Areyoufinallyadmittingyoufindmeattractive?”Iask,hopingthatlightensthemood.
Theteasingfallsshortashereachesoutandliftsmychin.“YekenIdo.”
Okay,then.
Gladweestablishedthat.
Annnd.?.?.whydidIcomehere,again?
Myminddrawsablankasmyheartratepicksup.Mydesireescalatestoabody-poundinglevelthatI’veneverexperiencedinmylife.
Please,Bonnie,don’tdosomethingstupid.CHAPTERTWELVE
ROWAN
Americansmakingmetalkwaytoomuch:One.
IknewshewasgoingtobebadnewstheminuteIsawher,butforsomereasonI’mholdingontothatbadnewsand,apparently,tryingtomakeitmine.
I’vethoughtaboutherallday.
EversinceIlefthercottage,I’vethoughtabouther.
Thewayherhandfeltmovingovermychest,herwarmbodytuckedupagainstmineinthemorning,thehugbeforeIleft,heradmission.?.?.
Hell,myadmission.
Andthenlater,inthecoffeeshop,Iwasreadytoblurtoutmysordidhistoryinthemiddleoftheday,asifI’veknownthislassforever.Itwasarealitycheck.
I’velostmydamnmind.
WhenhaveIevertalkedaboutthepast?LetalonetosomeoneIbarelyknow?
Never.
Andyet,whenIheardthegatecreakafewmomentsago,thesignofsomeonecoming,Iknewitwasgoingtobeher.Ifeltherpresence.Seeingher,thoseeyes.?.?.fuck,Icouldn’tturnherawayifIwantedto,andallthoseemotionsIfeltinthecoffeeshop,allmyconfessions,camebubblingupagain.
TheonlywayIknewtokeepmyselffrompouringeverythingouttoherwastostaysilent.
Butitseemslikethattactichasrunitscourse.
Fidgetingwithherhair,shelooksofftotheside.“So,youfindmeattractive,goodtoknow.Nottoobadyourself.”
She’sfuckingadorable.
“Andeventhoughthisconversationisquiteriveting,Ithinkweshouldeatsomecake.”Shepicksupherplate,scoopsagiantbite,andplopsitinhermouth.Asifshe’sforgottenaboutthelastminute,shemoansagainstherforkandsinksbackintothesofa.“WherethehellhasthisbeensinceI’vearrived?Dundeecakeisgoodandall,butthis.?.?.this.?.?.whatisthis?”Shepokesthecakewithherfork.
“Icedcherrycake.”
“Well,holdmyboobsandslapmyassbecauseooooeeeeisthisadelightinmymouth.”Shetakesanotherforkfulandcloseshereyes.“Theflavorsaremagnificent.Andit’ssomoist.OhmandoIloveamoistcake.Moist.?.?.moist,moist,moist.”Sheshovesthelastbiteinhermouthandleansover,pokingatthecakeonmyplate.“Areyougoingtoeatthis?”Shesnagsaforkfulandpicksuptheplate,holdingitinfrontofherasshechews.“IsthisfromIsla’sshop?Becauseshe’sbeenholdingoutonme.”
“Imadeit,”Isay.
Silence.
Slowly,sheturnsandlooksmeintheeyes.Hermouthcarefullychews.Swallows.Andthen.?.?.“Youmadethis?”sheasksinsuchawethat,hell,mycalmexteriorcracks.
AsmirktugsatmylipsandInod.“Aye,Imadeit.”
“Foryourself?”
“Aye.?.?.?,”Ireply,confused.
“Youmeantotellmethatyoucamehomeonedayandthought,‘Youknow,IthinkI’mgoingtomakemyselfacherrycake.’”
“Istheresomethingwrongwiththat?”
Shesetsherforkdown,cakestillonit,andfoldsherhandscarefullyonherlap.“I’mgoingtobehonestwithyou,Rowan.NeverinmylifehaveIeverwantedtojumpaman’sbonesasmuchasIwanttorightnow.”
Allofthisovercake?
Sheclearsherthroatandliftsherchin.“ButIamalady,andeventhoughIshowedanimalisticeatinghabitsjustafewmomentsago,Irefusetojumpanymanatthisage.”
“Aren’tyoutwenty-four?”Iask.
“Arespectabletwenty-four.I’mnotatwenty-two-year-oldfloozyanymore.Imeanbusiness.So,Iwillsaythankyouforthecake,kindsir,andthenbeonmyway.”
“Dowhateveryewant,”Isay,callingherbluffandpickingupmyplateofcake,whichstillhasherforkonit.Ilifttheforktomymouth,watchingherhands—itching,readytopounceinthree,two,one.?.?.
“Onsecondthought,youlooklikeyouneedcompany.”Shetakestheforkandshovesthecakeinhermouth.“Oh,sweetsugarynectar,you’regivingmelife.”
Ichuckle.She’ssofuckingridiculous.
“Helpyourself,”Itease.
“Don’tmindifIdo.”Shetakesanotherbiteandthenpicksuphercoffee.Shetakesasip,andhereyeswiden.“OhmyGod,whatkindofcoffeeisthis?”
“SpecialblendIorderin.Cherrycoffeewithcherrycake—myfavoritecombo.”
Herhandfallstomythigh,andshegivesitagoodsqueeze.Aboltoflustshootsstraighttomycock.Itakeadeepbreath.
Keepittogether,lad.
“Rowan,doyourealizethekindofflavorcombinationyou’vecreatedhere?Thiscouldeasilysellintheshopasaspecial.”
“Who’sgoingtomakethecherrycake?”
“Uh.?.?.you?”
“Notinterested,”Isay,finishingtherestofthecakeandsettingtheplatedown.
“Don’tyouwanttohelpyourparents?”
“I’vegivenupenoughforthem,”Isay,mythroatfeelingtightallofasudden.Toanoutsider,mycommentmustsoundselfish,butifsheknewwhatI’vebeenthrough,she’dunderstandexactlywherethefeelingsarecomingfrom,wheremyneedtohelpfallsflat.
FromthesympatheticlookonBonnie’sface,it’sasafeguessthatnoonehastoldherexactlywhathappenedtomybrother.
“Whathaveyougivenup?”
“NotsomethingIwanttotalkabout.”
“Isthatwhatyouwerealludingtobackatthecoffeeshop?”
Iblowoutaheavybreath.“Bonnie—”
“Fine,wedon’thavetotalkaboutthat.Icantellyou’regettingangry.Let’stalkaboutsomethingelse.”
“Whyareyouhere?”
“Isn’titobvious?”sheasks,battinghereyelashes.“Cameforthecakeandcompliments.”
“Youdidn’tknowIhadcake.”
“Luckyguess.”Sheshakesmyleg.“Comeon,Rowan,relax.Stopbeingsostiff.”
Keeptouchingmyleglikethat,andthe“stiffness”won’tgoaway.
“Bereal,Bonnie,”Isay.“Whyareyouhere?”
Hersmilefadesandsheleansback,removingherhandfrommyleg.
“Honestly?”Inod.“Iwantedtoseeyou.Makesureyouwereokay.Talktoyou.”Sheshrugs.“Spendaneveningwithyouwithoutalcohol.Igottheimpressionthatyoumightbehurtinginonewayoranother,andIthoughtitwouldbenicetotalktosomeonewhomighttrulyunderstandwhatI’mgoingthroughaswell.”
Whensheliftshereyestomine,Iimmediatelyseevulnerability.Shemightlovetojokeandtease,butbehindthatfacadeisabrokenheart,adamagedspirit,andthat’swhatmakesherreal.
Inodtowardherfeet.“Takeyourshoesoffandgetcomfortable.”
Shetakeshershoesoffandshootsmeabeamingsmilethathitsmeinthegut.Thismighthavebeenabadidea.Thatsinglesmiletellsmethatthisgirlverywellmightownmebytheendofthenight.
“FavoritethingaboutCorsekelly?”Bonnieasks,curleduponmysofa.Shelooksgoodinmyhouse—comfortable,relaxed.
“Ilikethatit’stuckedawayintheHighlands.Makesmefeellikewehaveourownlittleclanhere.”
“Icanfeelthat.Igrewupinasmallishtown—well,smallforCalifornia—butitdidn’thavethesamekindoffeelthatCorsekellyhas.Justfeelsmagicalhere.”
“Wegetthatalot.”
Asmilecrossesherface.“Everhaveaone-nightstandwithatourist?”
Irollmyeyes.“Whatdoyouthink?”
“Easily.”
Ijustliftmybrowandlookaway.
“Oooh,therearesomestoriesthere.Listen,I’mallforgettingitwhenyoucan.Nojudgmenthere.”Sheholdsupherhands.
“Whataboutyou?”Iask.“Doesn’tLosAngeleshaveabunchoftourists?”
“NotthekindoftouristsI’msureyougethere.AlotoffamiliesgoonvacationtoLA,struttingdowntheWalkofFameandtakingpictureswiththeirfavoriteactors’andactresses’handprints.I’veneverfoundatouristwhowassingleandlookingforagoodtime.ButhaveIhadtheoddone-nightstand?Yes.Sadlydisappointingthethreetimesithappened.”
“Shame,”Isay,sippingfrommymug.
“Tellmeaboutit.”Shegroans.“Ugh,it’sbeensolongsinceI’vecopulated.I’vealmostlostcountatthispoint.Whataboutyou?Whenwasthelasttimeyouhadsex?”
NotquitewhatIhadinmindforconversationtopics.
“Uh,notsure.Notrecently.”
“Lookatyou,notcountingthedays.Goodforyou.”Shegivesmeanapprovingnod.
“Well,inasmalltownlikeCorsekelly,notmanyopportunitiespresentthemselves.”
“Understandable.”Shetapsherchin.“HaveyouevertakenapicturewithyourboabyontheBoabyStone?”
“No.”
“HaveyousetyournakedboabyontheBoabyStone?”
“No.”
“Whynot?Ladiesputtheirbreastsonitandtakepictures.”
“BecausetherearecrazyfansouttherewhowilllicktheBoabyStone.Notexactlyhygienic.AndIdon’tevenhaveaTV—neverseentheshow.”
“Whydon’tyouhaveaTV?”
“Neverwantedone.Iliketoread,listentopodcasts,dopuzzles.”
“OhmyGod,you’reacuteoldman.”
“I’mnotold.”
Sheleansoverandtouchesmytemple.“Thereareafewgrayhairsinhere.”
“I’mthirty-two.”
“Isthatso?”Shegivesmeaslowonce-over.“Eightyearsmyseniorandinimpeccableshape—mustbeallthoserunswiththehairycoos.”
“Andtheabilitytopacemyselfwithcake,”Isaywithapointedlook.
Shewhipsoutherindexfinger.“Don’tyoudarecakeshameme!Ienjoyedeverylastbiteofthatcake,andifyouweren’tsittinginfrontofme,beingthecakeguard,Iwouldhavehelpedmyselftomorealready.SoI’vebeenshowingsomerestraint,ifyoumustknow.”
“Shocking,”Itease,whichonlymakeshergrin.“What’syourfavoritethingaboutCorsekelly?”Iaskherthistime,playingalongwithherlittlegame.
“Besidesthebakeshop,Itrulydoenjoythepeoplehere.Ilikehoweveryoneissoniceandwelcomingandwillingtohelp.Theyknewwewerecoming,andinsteadofpointingandsaying,‘TherearetheAmericans,’theywelcomedusintotheirlittleworld.”
“Scotsgetabadreputationaboutattitude.We’reusuallyportrayedinthemediaasangrybrutes,shoutingconstantly,butinrealitywe’requitepassionate,butkind,humanbeings.”
“Icouldseethat.It’sclearinthewayDakotaandIhavebeenwelcomed.”Shepicksuphermug,takesasip,andthensetsitbackdown.“What’sthejuiciestgossipyou’veheardsincewearrived?”
“Juiciest?”Iask,rubbingmyjaw.“ProbablythatyouwerecaughtcomingoutofthepubbathroomwithLachlan.”
“What?”Hereyeswiden.“Who’sbeensayingthat?”
“Everyone.”Ichuckle.
“Everyone?Who’severyone?That.?.?.that’s—”Sheeyesme.“Areyoulying?”
“Aye.”Ilaughsomemore.
“Notfunny,Rowan.”
“Ithoughtitwas.”
“Thinkyoucanmakeoneoftheseforme?”Bonnieasks,finishingoffhersecondservingofcake.
“Notsureyou’reworthitjustyet.”
“Oh,I’mworthit.”Shewinks.“Iknowhowtothankpeoplequitekindly.”
“Keepsayingthingslikethat,andtheLachlanstorycouldverywellbetrue.”
“Please,ifIwalkedoutofthepubbathroomwithanyone,itwouldbeLeith.HeactuallyhitonmebeforeIcameoverhere.”
“Notsurprised.”
Shenudgesmewithherfoot.“Aren’tyougoingtoactalljealousandrage-yanddemandanapologyonmybehalf?”
“Why?You’renotminetoclaim.”
“Notyet.”Shewinksagain.
Hell,thatwinkwasfullofpromises.
PromisesIhopesheintendstokeep.
“Moveyourhand—you’redoingthatonpurpose.”Sheswatsatmyhand,whichisholdingthepen.We’resittingsidebysideonthesofa,andwitheverysecondthatpasses,shesomehowinchescloser.
“Stopdistractingme.”
“You’redistractingmewithyourhand.”
“Foundit,”Icallout,circlingthewordflannelinthewordsearchwe’reworkingontogether.
“Damnit!”Bonnieslapsthesofa.“Youhaveadistinctadvantagebecauseyou’reholdingthebookandthepen.”
“Fine,here.”Ihandhereverythingandthenrestmyarmoverthebackofthesofa,scootinginclosetoherandtakinginhersweetscent,amixoffloralandvanilla.“Nextword.”
Shesnugglesinclose.“‘LochNessMonster’—go.”
“Foundit,”Isay,secondslater,andpointtoit.
“What?You’recheating.”
“OrI’mreallygood.”
Sheshakesherhead.“Noway,you’recheating.”
MaybeIsawitearlier,butshedoesn’tneedtoknowthat.
“I’mnothurtingyou,amI?”Bonnieasksassheleansintome,herfeettuckedupunderher.Myarmisstillonthebackofthesofa,butnowI’mplayingwiththelongstrandsofherhair.
“No.”Inreality,Idon’tthinkI’veeverfeltthiscomfortable.Thiscontent.Outside,rainpeltstheground,andmycottagefillswiththatfreshrainsmellIalwayslookforwardtoasthunderandlightningcrashthroughthesky.Andforonce,thestormdoesn’tunsettleme.Instead,asIgazeatBonnie,Idecideitprovidestheperfectsoundtrackfortheendofourevening.
IhavenoideawhenBonnieplansonleaving,butI’mnotgoingtoforceherout,eventhoughit’spasttenandsleepstartstoknockatmewithyawnafteryawn.I’mnotendingthisnight—she’sgoingtohavetocallit.
WhenIsatdowntoreadmybookearlier,Ineverexpectedtheeveningtoenduplikethis:Bonnieleaningagainstme,talkingquietlywhileweplaygameaftergameofwordsearchandloseourselvesinconversation.?.?.anddon’tforgetthosetwoservingsofcakeandcoffee.
“You’rewarm,”shesays,nuzzlingherheadagainstmychest,hervoicesoft,almostsleepy.“You’resocomfortable.Andyousmellgood.”
Notsurewhattosay,Istayquietandtwirlalongblondestrandaroundmyfinger.
“CanIaskyousomethingthatmightmakeyoumad?”
“Sure,”Isay,feelingsorelaxedthatIactuallymeanit.Maybethatwasherintentionallalong.Eitherway,shecanaskmeanythingatthispoint.
“Someonetoldmeyouhadabrother.”
Hell.
Maybenoteverything.
Iblowoutalongbreathandleanback,slouchingsomyheadistiltedupagainstthecushionandmygazeisfixedontheceiling.
“Idid,”Ianswerhonestly.
“Whathappenedtohim?”
Iswallowhard.“Passedawayfromaheadinjury.”Bonnieturnsandfacesme,herhandfallingonmychest,hereyesintentonmyface.“Callumwastwenty.Iwastwenty-two.WewerehikingwithLeithandLachlan,allofusdrunkandbeingeejits.Wegotcaughtupinarainstormanddidn’tthinkmuchofituntilCallumslippedinapileofmudandslammedhisheadagainstarock.Hewasunresponsive.”Bonnie’shandslowlyrubsovermychest,easingthetensionthat’sbuildingovermyheart.“Somehowwegothimdownthemountainandcalledanambulance.Weshouldn’thavemovedhim,butwedidn’twanttoleavehimupthereintheraineither.Hisbrainswelled,andtherewasnorecoveringafterthat.”
“OhmyGod,”Bonniesays.“Thehikeuptothecastle,youranger.?.?.itwasbecauseofCallum.”
“Aye.IsworeI’dneverstophiking,becauseitwasoneofhisfavoritethingstodo,butIuseloadsofcautionnow.TherucksackIwascarryingwhenwewenttothecastlewasfulloffirstaidsupplies,andIkeeptrackoftheweatherprettyconstantly.”
“I’msosorry.IwishIhadknown.IfeelterriblethatIputyouinthatposition.”
“It’snotsomethingyouneedtoworryabout.”Ipushmyhandthroughherhair,asenseofunderstandingpassingthroughus.“ButhewasthereasonIwasharshwithyou—probablywhyI’mharshwitheverybody.”
“Youhaven’tgottenoverhisdeath.”
“Doesanyoneevergetoverlosingsomeonetheylove?”
“No,Isupposenot,”sheanswerssoftly.
Gently,sherestshercheekonmybarechestandwrapsherarmaroundmywaist,pressingtightagainstmybody,almostasifshe’stryingtofuseustogether.Iwelcomeit—thewarmth,thecomfort.
Hell,whenwasthelasttimeIactuallyfeltanotherpersontrytocomfortmelikethis?Ihonestlycan’trecall.?.?.maybenever.
“Wasthatthechangeyouweretalkingaboutinthecoffeeshop?Whyyouneverlefttown?”
“HowdidIknowyouweregoingtoaskthat?”
Sheliftsup.“I’msorryifI’mbeingnosy.”
“Youare.Butit’sokay.”Iyawn,coveringmymouth.“Maybewesaveitforanotherday.”
Understandingsoftenshereyesasshesitsupandlooksoverattheclockontheoven.“Jeez,Ididn’trealizehowlateitwas.I’msorry.Ishouldheadhome.”Aloudcrackofthunderrattlesthecottage,andshewinces.“Or,youknow,thiscouchisprettycomfortable.”
Chuckling,IstandasIbringhertoherfeet,andwelinkourhandstogetherforabriefmoment.Igiveherasqueeze,pullingasmallsmilefromherlipsrightbeforeImovearoundthecottage,takingcareofthedishesandlockingup.Ileadhertomybedroom,whichisofftheback,andthenrummagethroughmydresserforashirt.
“Tosleepin,”Isay,handingittoher.“There’stoothpasteandanextratoothbrushinthecabinetinthebathroom.”
“Okay.Thankyou.LetmetextDakotatoletherknowI’mstayingsoshedoesn’tworry.I’llprobablyjustneedablanketandapillowforthecouch.”
Iwalkuptoherandpinchherchinwithmyforefingerandthumb.“You’resleepinginmybedtonight.?.?.withme.”
Hermouthdropsopen,formingabonnylittleO.Itakeofftothebathroom,whereIgetreadyquickly,mentallypreparingmyselfforalongnightofyearningandnotouching.CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
BONNIE
Cakeconsumedtoday:Happily,twoandahalfpieces.
Dayssincelastmale-inducedorgasm:Uh.?.?.ninety?Ninety-nine?Hopefullyzerosoon.
NumberofhotScotswhosaidI’dbesleepingwiththem:One.?.?.THEoneandonly.
MenI’mcrushingonhard:One.Seeabove.
Hisshirtsmellslikeheaven.Histoothpastetasteslikeheaven.Hisfaceispureheaven.IthinkImayhavepassedoutandgonetoheaven.
AndI’mnotleaving.
“SoshouldIjusthopin?”Iask,standingatthefootofRowan’slargebed,inhisshirt,staringatthewayhe’scasuallylyingunderthecovers,historsouncoveredandhishandsbehindhishead.
“Notgoingtobite,lass.”
Yeah.?.?.butImight.
SlowlyImakemywaytomysideofthebed.“Youknow,thiswaseasierwhenIwasdrunk.”
“Doyouevenrememberit?”
“No,whichmadeiteasier,becauseIwillforsurerememberhowawkwardIamrightnow.”
Heflipsthecoversoverforme,welcomingmein.Howcanhebesocoolaboutit?Asifthisisn’tmonumental?Asifwehaven’thadthison-again,off-again,fun-yet-tumultuousrelationshipeversinceIgothere?Asifmeclimbingintobednexttohimisthemostnaturalthingintheworld?
Andmaybeitisforhim.
Oncesettled,Iliestifflynexttohim,keepingallmylimbstomyselfandstaringstraightupattheceiling.Heflipsthenightstandlightoffandthenturnstowardme,hishandscoopingmearoundthewaistandpullingmeclosesowe’refacingeachother.
Hismintybreathfloatsbetweenusashiswidepalmkeepsholdonmyback.Myhandfallstohischest,andmyfingerslightlystrokethedarkinkonhispec.
“Doesyourtattooholdanymeaning?”
“Aye.It’stheMacGregorclancrestwovenintoaCelticknot—atributetomybrother.”
“That’s.?.?.that’sbeautiful,Rowan.”
“It’showIcankeephimclosetomyheart,”heanswers,hisgripgrowingtighter.
Ismoothmyhanduphisneck,tohisjaw,tryingtocalmmyrattlingnerves.I’veneverbeenthisnervouswhenitcomestoaman.I’musuallysoconfident,butRowanhasmeoutofsorts.I’mnotsureifwhatI’mdoingisokay,orifhewantsmetouchinghimatall.
Ibitemybottomlip.“IfeellikeIshouldtellyousomething.”
“What’sthat?”heasks,hisvoicehusky,likeasoftrumbleofthunderinthedistance.
“I’mstartingtolikeyou.”
Hechuckles,thesoundrattlingthebedeversoslightly.“Isthatso?”
“Don’tmakeabigdealaboutit.”
“HowcouldInot,whenI’vebeennothingbutgrumpyandawfultobearound?”
“Ineversaidit’sawfultobearoundyou.Grumpy,yes,butKiltyMcGrumpyshirehasgrownonme.”
“Yeah,well.?.?.thestubbornandsaucyAmericanhasgrownonmeaswell.”
Ismile.“Doesthatmean.?.?.youlikemeback?”
Growingserious,hereplies,“IthinkIhaveforawhile.”
Hishandtravelsupmybacktothenapeofmyneck.Butterflieseruptinmychestashepullsmeafewmoreinchescloser,cuttingwhatlittledistancethereisbetweenus.
Foreheadtoforehead,he’ssilentforafewbreaths.“Thefirsttimeyoukissedme,”hemurmurs,“itwastorturetonotkissyouback,butIhadtostandmystubbornground.Ifelttheimprintofyourlipsonminefordays.Ismelledyourperfumeonmeforhoursafter,andyourbadgeringmademelaughminuteslater.Itwastheworst,bestfirstkissI’veeverhadwithsomeone.”
“Youconsiderthatafirstkiss?”
“Aye.Ido.”
“Butitwasn’taprettyone.”
“Doesn’tneedtobe.”
“Sowhatdoesallofthismean?Areyougoingtokissmenow?”Iask,feelingbreathlessandexcited.
“Nay.”Heshakeshisheadagainstmine.“I’mgoingtoholdyou,though.”
Disappointmentfalls,andIrealizejusthowmuchIreallywantedhimtokissme—justhowmuchIactuallywantthisman.Butcuddlingintohim,lettinghimholdmeduringathunderstorm,thatshouldbegoodenough.?.?.right?
“Comehere,”hesays,rollingontohisbackandpullingmeintohisembrace.Irestmyheadagainsthischest,andhisprotectivearmclampsaroundmeashekissesthetopofmyhead.“Thankyoufortonight,”hesaysquietly.
“Youdon’thavetothankme.”
“Idon’ttalkaboutmybrotherveryoften,Bonnie.Youlistened,andthatmeantsomethingtome.”
“Iknowyouwouldhavedonethesameforme.”Imovemyhandsslowlyacrosshischest.“Rowan?”
“Hmm?”
“Doesthismean.?.?.we’restartingsomething?”
“Areyoufishingforadate,lass?”
“Wouldn’thurtyoutoask,youknow.”
“Okay.”
AndIwait.?.?.andwait.?.?.andwait.
“Uh,areyougoingtoask?”
“Onmyterms,Bonnie.Nowjustgotosleep.”
“Onyourterms—whatdoesthatevenmean?”
“MeansI’llaskwhenIask.”
“Well,Ican’twaitaroundforever,youknow.I’mfreshmeatinaScottishmeatmarket.Imightbeaskedouttomorrow,andbecauseyouneveraskedmeout,Iwouldtakethatdate.”
“Thentakeit,”hesayscasually.
Ipinchhisside,andhebarelyflinches.“You’renotsupposedtosaythat.”
“Iknowyouwouldn’ttakeit.You’retooinfatuatedwithme.”
“Oh,nowyoudidit,”Iexclaim.“NowI’mgoingtogoaskLeithoutjusttospiteyou.”
Hechuckles.“Goodluck.Iheardhelikestolicknecksonfirstdates.”
“Well,thenhe’stheperfectmanforme.”
Aburstoflightsearsthroughmyeyelidsasthunderboomsoutside.Istartleawake,myheartratesurgingasItrytograspwhereIam.Theroomisswathedindarkness,andthewarmbodythatheldmeasIfellasleepisnowheretobefound.Isitupinbedandsearchtheroom,butIdon’tseehimanywhere.
Foldingdownthecovers,Islowlygetoutofbedandmakemywaythroughtheopenbedroomdoor.Ipadintothemainlivingspace,whereIspothiminthekitchen,wearingjustapairofblackboxerbriefs.Hisbackisturnedtome,andtensionrollsthroughitashegripsthecounterinfrontofhim,hisheadtilteddown.Lightningflashesandanotherboomofthunderrattlesthehouse,butheremainsstill,unaffected.
Carefully,IwalkupbehindhimandrunmyhandalonghisbarebacktolethimknowI’mhere.Hismusclestenseundermytouch,buthequicklyrelaxesbeneathmyhand.
“Areyouokay?”Iask.
Heshakeshishead.“Nightmare,”heanswershonestly.“AboutCallum.”
“Oh,Rowan,I’msosorry.”Imoveunderhisarm,positioningmyselfbetweenhimandthecounter.Iliftuphisheadandcatchaglimpseofhisdistraughteyesaslightningflashesoutside.“It’sbecauseyoutalkedaboutwhathappened,isn’tit?”
Henods.“Yeah,alwayshappenswhenIbringhimup.Hauntsme.Ireliveit.Everysound,smell,andthen.?.?.silence.”Heswallowshard.“Iwashopingitwasn’tgoingtohitmeashardasitusuallydoes,butitfeltmoreintensetonight.”
“I’msorry.I’msosorryImadeyoutalkaboutit.”
“Youdidn’tmakemedoanything.”Hewrapshishandsaroundmywaistandcarefullyliftsmeupontothecounter,pressinghisbodyagainstthecabinetssohe’sbetweenmylegs.Isavortheease,theintimacyofthismoment,asmyhandsfloatuptohisshoulders.
“Still,Ifeelawfulforbringingitup.”Oneofmyhandsclimbsuptohisjaw,andIstrokehissandpaperscruff.Whatwouldthisfeellikebetweenmylegs?Probablyamazing.Beardburnisaguiltypleasureofmine.
“Don’t,noneedtofeelbad,lass,”hesays.HishandsmoveovertheshirtIborrowedandslowlyinchbeneaththehemline,wherehispalmsscorchmyalready-warmedthighs.“Didthethunderwakeyou?”
Inodashishandsclimbhigher.“It’sprobablytheloudestI’veeverheard,”Isayjustasanothercrashsounds.“Icanfeelitinmybones.”
“Iusedtolovethestormshere.Now,well.?.?.it’strulytheonethingI’dchangeaboutScotland,ifIcould.”
“Becausetheyremindyouofyourbrother.”
Henods.
“Isthatwhyyoustayedinlastnight?Youknewitwasgoingtostorm?”
Heshakeshishead.“No,IstayedinbecauseIknewyouweregoingtofindmeandfinishtheconversationfromthecoffeeshop.”
“Youdidnotknowthat.”
Henods.“Aye,Idid,andyouprovedmeright.”
Ichuckle.“AmIthattransparent?”
“Iwish.”Hesighsandmoveshishandsupuntiltheyreachmyhips.
Hisbrowrises,andhiseyesmeetmine.“Areyouwearingknickers?”
Itwasonlyamatteroftimebeforehefigureditout.“No,I’mnot.Iwaswearingathonganddidn’tfeellikesleepinginit.”
“Soyouclimbedintomybedbare-arsed?”
Ilaughandpokeathim.“Wishingyoukissedmenow,huh?”
“WishingIdidawholelotmore.”
“Then,whatwastheholdup?”
“Wasn’tinagoodheadspace,”headmits,andeverythingclicksintoplace.
“Youdon’twantourfirsttimetobecloudedbymemoriesofyourbrother.”
Henods.“Aye.”Onehandcomesuptomycheek,andhisthumbpullsonmybottomlip.“You’respecial,Bonnie.Annoyingandirritatingandstubborn—”
“Uh,isthisgoingtotakeaturndownNiceville?Becausethosearen’tcompliments.”
“Ifyou’dletmefinish,”hesnaps,makingmelaughandrestmyheadonhischest.Stillgrumpy,willprobablyalwaysbegrumpy.“AsIwassaying.?.?.irritating,stubborn,sassy,butyoualsohaveawarmheart,andIhatetoadmitit,butyou’refunnytoo.Youdeserveakissthatisn’tjustsomethingtodoonarainynight,butbecauseit’sbackedupbyaspecialmoment.”
“Likerightnow?”Iask,wrappingmylegsaroundhimandpullinghiminevencloser.
Hiseyessearchmine,indecisionweighingheavily.
Rightnowcouldbeperfect.
Middleofthenight.
Confessionsfallingpastbothofourlips.
Theneedtobeclose.
Theairseemstostandstill.
Hiseyescaressmine.
Hisbreathsareshort.?.?.yearning.
AndrightwhenIthinkhe’sabouttopullaway,helowershishead,drawingcloser,makingmyheartlurchinmychest.
Pleasedon’tletthisbefake,pleaseletthisbeamoment—theperfectmoment.
Lightningflashes,andthereisonlyabreathbetweenus.
Thunderbooms,shakingeverythingbeneathus.
Then,hislipspressagainstmine.
Isuckinasharpbreathandinstantlyrunmyhandsuphisnecktohischeeks,whereIholdhim,notwantinghimtopullawaybuttostaylockedlikethis,hissoftlipsmovinggentlyovermine,exploring,testing.?.?.tasting.
Forsuchabruteofaman,hekisseswithimpressiveintention.Thereisnosloppinessordrivingneedtoprovesomething.Instead,he’scarefulbutintense.
Hungersearsthroughhislipsastheymoveagainstmine,andhisgriponmycheekandthesoftpressofhisbodyagainstminebeliehisoutwardcalm.Histongueswipesacrossmylowerlip,askingformore,andIoblige,openingwideforhim.Whenhistonguemeetsmine,Igroanagainsthismouthandgriphimtighter.
Achinglyincompleteuntilthismoment,Igetlostinourferventpassion,inhisheavybreaths,inthelowandsensualgroansfloatingpastourmouths.
KissingthismaniseverythingIhopeditwouldbe.
Ardent.
Needy.
Consuming.
Overpowering.
Worldchanging.
Anotherflashoflightingilluminatestheroom,butthistimethethundertakessecondslongertoboom,heraldingthestorm’sretreat.
Hiskissesslow,hisgriploosens,andwithonefinalpresstomymouth,hepullsawayandrestshisforeheadonmine.
“Hell,”hemumbles.
“Yeah.?.?.agreed.”
Hiseyesconnectwithmine,andalopsidedsmiletugsonhislips.“Ithinkyou’retrouble.”
“Ithinkyoumightberight.”
Pickingmeupagain,helowersmetothegroundandsays,“Let’sheadtobed.”Hetakesmyhandinhisandguidesmetohisbedroom.Islipintobed,andheliesdownontheotherside,flatonhisback.Hesticksonehandbehindhisheadandwrapstheotheraroundme,pullingmeinclosetohisside.
Isettleintohim,andasmyhandtravelstohischest,thetensionthathadlacedhismusclesisgone—he’srelaxed.
Thestormquietsoutside,andRowandoestoo,hisbreathingeveningout.He’sdriftingofftosleep,butI’mbuzzing.Desirepumpsthroughme,needconsumesme,andbeforeIcanstopmyself,Iallowmyhandtoroamhisbaretorso,lightlydraggingmyfingersoverhisabs,takingineveryperfectindent,everycurve.Hisstomachiscarvedasiffromgranite,andit’ssuchahugeturn-onthatIfindtheachebetweenmylegsincreasingwitheveryswipe.
Ineedtostop.
Rightnow.
Butinstead,myhandtravelsdowntothewaistbandofhisboxerbriefs.Iglidemyfingertipsovertheelastic,wonderingwhathe’ddoifIjustmovedmyhandalittlefarther.
WhatwouldIfind?
Wouldhebehard?
Hehasn’tshiftedormovedsinceIstartedtouchinghim.
Hisbreathinghasn’taltered.
WhatwouldhappenifIjust.?.?.slowly.?.?.moved.?.?.
Hishandthat’swrappedaroundmetugsatmyshirt,exposingmyskinashislargepalmslowlygripsmyrearend.
Oh.?.?.dear.?.?.God.
Ibitemybottomlipasmyarousalspikes.
Idon’tmove.
Mybreathisheldcaptive.
Mypulsefeelslikeajackhammerinmythroat.
Andthenheglidesovermybackside,feeling,exploring,hispalmroughandcalloused,makingthepassofhishandthatmuchmoreheady.?.?.luxurious.
Takingadeepbreath,Ilowermyhandaninch,andmyfingertipsconnectwithhisthickgirth.Myeyesnearlyrolltothebackofmyhead,andforthefirsttimesinceIstartedmyexploration,Ifeelhisbreathinghitchandgrowshallow.Quicklyin,quicklyout.
HisreactiongrantsmemorecourageasIcoverhiserectionwithmyhand.
Big.
He’ssobig.
Iwouldn’texpectanythinglessfromsuchamammothofaman,butit’sstillalittleshockingandintimidating.
Myhandfullygripshisgirth,andhesucksinasharpbreathashishipsjutforward.
Ineedmore.Iwanttofeelhimwithoutabarrier.Sowithoutgivingitasecondthought,Islipmyhandunderhisbriefsandcirclehisentiretyinmypalm.Acontradictionofsoft,velvetskinandstone,hefeelsamazing.
“Fuck,”hegrumblessoftlyasIstarttoeversoslowlypumpupanddown.
Idragmyhandtothetipandpassmythumbovertheheadafewtimes.Hisgriponmyasstightens,andhislegsspread.Itakethatasmycue.
Hewantsmore.
Iwantmore.
Somuchmore.
Isitupandpushthecoversdown,mybodybuzzingwithanticipation.Igripthewaistbandofhisbriefsanddragthemdownhislegs,discardingthemonthefloor.Inthedimlight,Itakeinthegloriouslydeliciousoutlineofhiscockjuttingupagainsthisstomach.Ishiftmyhairtothesidesoit’soutofmywaybutsohecanstillseemyfaceasIlowermyself,liftinghisshaftandbringingittomylips.
Istartatthetipandslowlysuckhimintomymouth.
“Jesus,”hemumbleswithasigh,hishandfindingthehemofmyshirtagain,hisfingersglidingupandunderthefabric.TheconnectionbringsalevelofintimacytowhatI’mdoing,atouchIneverrealizedIneeded
Slowly,Ilowermymoutharoundhimwhilemyotherhandgripshisbasetightly.Witheverydescent,Ispendafewsecondssuckinghard,enoughtimetogethimbreathingharderandharder,untilIopenallthewayandtakehimtothebackofmythroat.
“Fuck,”hehissesasIswallow.IdothisafewmoretimesuntilIpullallthewayoffandreleasemyhold,barelykeepinghiscockheldinmyhand.Hetightensundermytouch,andprecumformsatthetip.Hiscockissohard,soready,thatIknowhe’sonlymomentsaway.“Bonnie,lass.?.?.?,”hegasps.
Oh,he’sreallyclose.
Hiseyesaresqueezedshutandhischestrisesandfallssorapidlythatitwouldbeimpossibletocounthowmanybreathshetakesinaminute.ButIholdstill
Hethrashes.
Hiscockjutsup.
Hishandgripsthesheets.
Histeethpullonhisbottomlip.
Andthen.?.?.aferalgroan.
Withthat,mymouthdescendsagain,andImaneuverhimallthewaybackbeforeIpulluphard,suckingtheentiretime.
“Fuck,I’mcoming!”heshoutsashishipsdriveup.Itakehimeasily,revelinginhispleasureuntilhe’scompletelysated.He’sbreathingheavily,disbeliefmorphinghisfaceashegazesdownatme.Heliftsahandandstrokesittenderlythroughmyhairasheslowlycomesbacktolife.
Andthen.?.?.determinationlaceshisfeatures.
Heliftsup,hisabstightening,contracting,beforeheflipsmetomybackandspreadsmylegswideenoughforhislargebodytofitbetweenthem.
“Rowan,”Ibreatheoutheavily.“Youdon’thaveto—”
“ThefuckIdon’t.”Hepushesthehemofmyshirtpastmybellybuttonbutdoesn’tgoanyfarther.Itmakesmelosemymind—untilhehooksoneofmylegsoverhisshoulderandlowershishead.
Givingpleasureisjustasmuchofaturn-onformeasreceiving,soI’mreadyforhimashislipsmeetmyinnerthigh.Mybodyisalreadysensitive,thrummingwithneedasallfeelingfocusesdowntomycore,lightingmeupwithanticipation.
Hetrailsscratchy,lusciouskissesalongmysensitiveskin,movingcloserandclosertomycenterbeforehepullsawayandmovestomyotherleg.Hepaystributetoeachside,worshippingwithhismouthanddrivingmecrazy.
Mypelvisliftsup,seekinganykindofconnection,andwhenhismouthpullsaway,excitementboomsdeepinthepitofmystomach—untilheturnstotheotherleg.
“OhmyGod,Rowan,”Isay,theachesostrongthatIfeellikeImightcry.“Please.”
“No,”hesaysandthengoesbacktotrailingkissesalongmythigh,drawingsoclose,righttowhereIneedhim,thenpullingawayandmovingbacktowardmyknee.
Devilofaman.
Ishiftbeneathhim,anglingtogethimtotouchme,buthe’sstrongandholdsmedown,drawingoutthisdelicioustortureuntilthethrobissointenseIcryout.
“Please,”Ibeg.“Please,Rowan.”
Hedrawshistongueoutandlapsitdownmyleg,closerandcloser,untilhistonguemeetsmyhip.Hecirclesitovermyhipboneandrunsitdowntomypubicbone,rightabovemyslit.Thereheplayswithme,teasesme,drawingcirclesoverandoveragain.Ifeelmyarousalpool,myneedsogreatthatImightcomewithouthimeventouchingme.
“Iwanttocomeonyourtongue,”Isay,notholdingback.
“Areyouclose?”heasks.
“Yes,”Ibreatheout.“Don’tyoufeelmeshakingforyou?”
“Aye,”hesays,hisvoicesuchadeeprumblethatInearlycomerightthere.
Hiseyesfindmineashelowershistongueaninch,justtotheverytop,andheslipsitinandout,makingtheachegrowmoreintense.
“Rowan,”Isayindesperationjustashishandspreadsmeandhistonguepressesagainstmyclit.“OhGod,”Icryout,mychestheavinguptowardtheceiling,myhandsfallingtomysides,grippingthesheets.
Histonguestillsforafewbreaths,andthenhestartsflickingitalongmyclit,usingjustenoughpressuretobuildmeuphardandfast.
Anintensecalmwashesovermeasapulsebeatsthroughmyveins,stiffeningmymuscles,pullingtowardmycenter.
Everythought,everyfeeling,everyemotion,theyallpooltogether,sendingawaveofnumbnessthroughmylimbs.
Mybodytenses.
Mystomachbottomsout.
NothingexistsbesidesRowan’stongueandthewayhe’smovingitalongmyclit,untilhepressesdownhardandflicksovermesofastthatmyorgasmburststhroughme,powerfulandsatisfyingallatonce.
“OhmyGod!”Iyellashecontinuestomovehistongue,myhipsglidingupanddown,drawingouteverylastounceofpleasureuntilthereisabsolutelynothingleft.
Whenhemovesaway,Ireachforhim,pullinghimupalongmybodyandpressingakisstohismouth.“Youhavenoideawhatyoujustdidtome,”Iwhisper,gazingathimintheneardarkness.
“I’mprettysureIhaveagoodguess.”
“No.?.?.youjustruinedme.”
“Lass,yourmouthonmycock—thatruinedme.”
“Whydoesitsmellsogoodinhere?”Iask,walkingintoRowan’skitchenwithonepalmpressedagainstmyeye,tryingtowipeawaythesleep.Wakingupalonetoachilly,foggymorningwasnotexactlywhatIwantedafterlastnight’sactivities,butthat’sallwashedawaywhenIcatchRowan,shirtless,standingatthestove,makingmebreakfast.
“Madesometattiescones,”hesays,flippingoffthestovetopandputtingapanofeggsonatrivet.Heturnstowardmeandbeckonsmewithafinger.Ishamelesslywalkovertohim,unabletosuppressthegrintuggingatmylips.Heloopsonearmaroundmywaistandquietlysays,“Mornin’,lass,”whilepressingakisstothetopofmyhead.
Bestillmyheart.
“Goodmorning.”Itrailmyhanduphischestandthenliftuponmytoesandkisshisjaw.Hishandfallstomyass,grippingittightlythroughmyshirt.Andifitweren’tfortheamazing-smellingbreakfast,Iwouldbeclimbingthismanlikeatreerightnow.“Doyoualwaysmakebreakfastfortheladiesyouhaveover?”
“Nay,Ikickthemoutofbedoncethey’repleasured.Consideryourselflucky.”Hesmirksandreleasesmebeforeservinguptwoplatesoffood.
Thetableischarminglysetwithabuttercrockandjamjar,mugsofcoffee,andabeautifulhand-thrownvaseofwildflowers.God,couldhebeanysweeter?
Itakeaseatatthetableandmarvelattheshirtlesshunkofamanservingmeaplateofdeliciousfood.
“Thislooksamazing.I’veneverhadatattiescone.WhatshouldIdo?”
Hereachesovertomyplateandpicksuponeoftheflat,triangularpastries.“IpreferthemwithalightcoatofBrodiesbutter—it’sthebest;don’tletanyonetellyouotherwise—andthenaweebitofhomemadejam.”
“Youmakeyourownjam?”
“Aye,memawandImakequiteafewbatcheseveryyear.”
“Doyousellthem?”
Heshakeshisheadashehandsmeascone.“’Tisforthetown.Wehandthemouteverysummer.”
Itakeabite,andgoodGod,wherehavethesebeenmyentirelife?“Wow,Rowan.”Igivethesconeagoodinspection.“Thesearesofreakinggood.DoesIslasellthese?”
“Nay,shefocusesonshortbread,Dundeecakes,andsavorypies—andoccasionallyempirecakesandpuddings.Haveyoutriedherstickytoffeepuddingyet?”
“No,butI’vebeentryingtosteerclearofthebakeshop.I’mindangerofgaininganothersolidtwopoundsonmyhipsalone.”
Hisgazemeetsmineovertherimofhiscoffeemug.“Shouldn’tbeworriedaboutthat,lass.Ilikesomethingtogriponto.”
Myfacereddens,andmemoriesoflastnightflashthroughmymind.Histenderteasing.Hisgrunts.Mymoans.Ourexplosiveorgasms.Idon’tthinkI’veeverhadanightlikethat,andwedidn’tevengoalltheway.
“Thinkingaboutlastnight?”heasksbeforeshovingaforkfulofeggsintohismouth.
“Maybe.”Itakeanotherbiteofthescone,savoringitssofttexture,perfectlycombinedwiththetartjamandsubtlebutter.“Doesthismeanyou’regoingtoaskmeoutonadate?”
Heeyesmebutdoesn’tsayanything.Thoseeyes—sointense,butplayfulatthesametime.“Notsureyet.”
“Rowan.”Inudgehimunderthetable,makinghimlaugh.“Aftereverythingthathappened,you’rereallynotgoingtoaskmeout?”
“Didn’tsayIwasn’t.”Hissmirkisalmostunbearable.
“Butyou’renotconfirmingthatyouare.”
“Liketokeepyouonyourtoes.”Hepushesatmyplate.“Eatup,lass.”
“You’reinfuriating.”
“Andyou’rebeautifulwhenyou’reannoyed.”
Well.?.?.damn.
Ipointmyforkathim.“Don’ttrytobuttermeupwithcompliments.”
“Fine.Yourhairisadamnmess.”
Ipatdownmyhead.“Really?”
Hechuckles.“Nay.You’restillbeautiful.”
“Youdon’thavetowalkmealltheway,”Isaywhenwereachthedrivewayleadingtothecottage.
“Wasn’tplanningonit.ThisiswhereIsendyouonyourway.”
Istudyhim,myhandstillclutchinghis.“Youknow,you’reastrangeman.Sweetandpassionateandprotectiveoneminuteandthenagrumpy,sarcasticassthenext.”
“Takewhatyoucanget,lass.”Heleansforward,liftsmychin,andpressesasweetkisstomylips.“Seeyouaround.”
Heletsgoofmyhandandstartstowalkaway.
“Uh,excuseme.”Hepausesandlooksoverhisshoulder.“‘Seeyouaround’?That’sallyou’vegot?No‘I’llcallyou’?”
“Don’thaveyournumber.”Hewinksandtakesoff,notturningaroundagain,notevenwhenIhuffoutinfrustration.
“Infuriatingman,”Imumble,stompingdownthedrivewayandstraightintothecottage.Dakotaissittingatthetable,enjoyingherownbreakfastofeggs.She’sinherrunninggear,andalightsheenofsweatcoatsherskin.Man,Ineedtostartworkingoutmorelikeher,orelsetheshortbreadandtattiesconesandcherrycakereallywillcatchuptome.
“Goodmorning.”Shesmirks,takingmein.I’mstillwearingRowan’sshirtandnobra,thoughIdidpullonmyleggingsbeforeleavinghishouse.MyshirtandundergarmentsaretuckedintoabagRowangaveme,whichI’mclutchingwithonehand.
“It’snotwhatitlookslike.”
“LookslikeyousleptoveratRowan’shouse.Andfromthegoofygrinonyourface,I’dsayyourdryspell’sended.”
“I’mnotsportingagoofygrin.I’mirritatedwiththatman.”
“Youmightbeirritatedontheinside,butyou’reglowingontheoutside.”Shesitsbackandtakesalargegulpfromherwaterglass.“Caretoshare?”
Iplopintotheseatacrossfromher.“Isuckedhiscock.”
Dakota’seyeswiden,andshespitsherwaterbackinherglass.“Jesus,Bonnie,”shechucklesaswaterdribblesdownherchin.“Warnagirlbeforeyougoandsaysomethinglikethat.”
“Youwantedmetoshare,andthat’swhathappened.Itwasinthemiddleofthenighttoo.Atfirsthejustheldme,andthenIwokeuptofindhiminthekitchenbyhimself.That’swherewekissed.”Isighatthememoryofthatmoment.“Itwassoperfect,andthen,whenwewentbacktobed.?.?.well,Iwasalittlehandsyandthensowashe,soIstrippedhimdownandhadmywaywithhisbody.”
“Wow,youreallywentforit.I’mproudofyou.Didhereciprocate?”
“Oh,didhe.”Ishakemyheadindisbelief.“Idon’tthinkI’veevercomethathard,Dakota.Iwasonadifferentplanet.Itwasinsane.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,”Isigh.“Andthenhemademebreakfast,ruinedmeforallmen,walkedmehome,andsaid.?.?.‘Seeyouaround.’”
Dakotatiltsherheadbackandlaughs.“Oh,that’sperfect.”
“It’snotfunny.”
“No,itreallyis.Helovesgoadingyou,andthat’sexactlywhathedid.”
“Thedevilofaman.”
“Yeah,butyoulikeit.”Shesmirks.
Ido.
Ireallyfreakingdo.CHAPTERFOURTEEN
BONNIE
Dayssincelastmale-inducedorgasm:ZERO!
NeedIreallysaymoreatthispoint?
“Sothat’sit?”IaskDakotaaswebothstaredownataflatpieceofrockinadankcave.Waterglistensoffthewalls,andourfeetaresinkinghalfaninchintothemuddyground,somethingIwasn’texpectingwhenIworemycutetennisshoes.
“Ibelieveso,”Dakotasays.“TheBoabyStone.”
Ileantowardher.“Isitasunimpressivetoyouasitistome?”
“Frankly,theonlythingimpressiveaboutitisthatit’sprobablyseenmoredickthanyouhave.”
“Hey,”Isayonalaugh,shovinghertotheside.
Shechucklesandthenpullsoutherphonetotakeapicture.“Wanttopretendyourarmisapenisandtakeapicture?”
“Isn’titobviousthat’swhywe’rehere?”
“Justmakingsure.”
Squattingdowntotheheightofthestone,whichreachesjustbelowmyknees,Ipositionmyarminfrontofmycrotchandthenhoveritrightabovetheslab.Idon’twanttomakeactualcontact,becausetherehasbeenrealdickonit—lotsofrealdick—andtouchingameltingpotofpenisisnotonmyto-dolisttoday.
“Smile,”Dakotasaysrightbeforetakingapicture.
Istand,andwhensheoffersherscreen,Iquicklyapprovethepicture.“Sendthattome.Doyouwantoneofyourselfwithafakepenis?”
“I’mgood.”
Ipauseandstareather.“Soooo.?.?.youmademetakeapicture,butyou’renotgoingtotakeone?”
“Ididn’tmakeyou—youdiditofyourownaccord.It’sInstagramworthyforyou,butIkeepitclassyformyclients.”
“Ugh,ifyoustarttalkingaboutkeepingyourbrandcohesiveonsocialmediaagain,I’mgoingtotourtheHighlandswithoutyou,”Isay,stridingawayfromthestoneandtowardthecave’sentrance.IduckpastthedrippingwaterattheopeningasIhearDakotatrailbehindme.
“It’simportant,Bonnie.InfluencersandcompaniesfindmethroughInstagram.Ican’thaveapictureonthereofmepretendingmyarmisapenis.”
Iwhiparound,haltingherinplaceasIplantmyhandsonmyhips.“It’sbecausemyarmsarelongerthanyours,isn’tit?You’retooashamedtohaveyourfakepenisnexttomyfakepenis.”
“Yes,Bonnie,”shedeadpans.“That’sexactlyright.Ihavefake-penisenvy.”
Isnapmyfingersandsmile.“Iknewit.”Ireachoutandtakeherhandinmine.“Comeon,now,wehavemuchtosee.”
WedecidedtovisitafewspotsintheHighlandstoday.WehaveplanstogotoInvernessandexplorelateron,andwhenwecanreallysqueezeinsometimetogether,wewanttohitupEdinburgh.Wearen’tjustheretoworkandfindourselves.We’realsoheretotakeinthecountry.
Andthatiswhattodayisabout:exploringwithmybestfriend.
Myeleventh-gradeEnglishteacherwasobsessedwithEngland.ArealloverofShakespeare.HewoulddriveuscrazywithanecdotesandvacationpicturesofhimsplashedaroundEngland.
Mr.?Dorseyinaredphonebooth.
Mr.?DorseyinfrontofBuckinghamPalace.
Mr.?Dorseyinthecountryside.
Mr.?DorseyatStonehenge.
Atonepoint,JoshFlandersstoodupinthemiddleofaslideshowofMr.?DorseyprancinginanEnglishfieldwithsheepandtoldthemantogetalife.Joshwassenttotheprincipal,butmentallyIapplaudedhim.Whoonearthwouldbesoobsessedwithanothercountry?
*Ahem*
*Slowlyraiseshand*
Yeah,Igetitnow.
Isofreakinggetit.
Ugh,poorMr.?Dorsey.Iwanttowritealettertohimandtellhim.?.?.“Iseeyou.”
AndthenIwanttowritehimaletterdescribinginintricatedetailthewaytheheatheronthehillsswaysrhythmicallywiththewind,almostlikeit’sdancing.
Tomakemypoint:I’mobsessedwithScotland.
Icametothatrealizationaboutfiveminutesago,whenDakotaslowlypulledaroundabendonanarrowroadthatopensuptoavalley.Myheartcaughtinmythroatasthelandscapeunfoldedbeforeus.
Afterpullingoffontoalookoutwithabench,wesatinthecarandquietlystaredforafewgoodminutesbeforeIgotoutofthecarandbreatheditallin.
Thefreshairwasthefirstthingtoignitemysenses.Sopure.
Thesecondthingwasthesoftsoundofatricklingbrookwindingandweavingthroughthevalley.Notbigenoughtobeariver,butpowerfulenoughtosetthesoundtrackfortheviewinfrontofus.
ThethirdthingwasthecontrastinboldcolorsMotherNaturehaschosentoblessuswith.Apaletteofwhimsicalchildhoodhuesclashingtogether,makingthesoilpop,thecloudsdance,andthepeaksclaimauthorityovertheland.
Theonlywordforitall:breathtaking
“Wow,”Dakotasaysasshepullsatravelcoolerwithourlunchesoutofthecar.
“Iknow.Ithinkwefoundthespot.”
“Wedid.”Shechuckles,andwebothtakeaseatonthewidebench.
BeforeweleftCorsekelly,westoppedatthebakeshopforsomesavorypies—bothoptingforcheeseandoniontoday—andofcoursesomeshortbread,becausewhat’sonemorehelpingformyhips?
“Islawasrightaboutthisplace,”Isay,takingabiteofmypieandenjoyingtheheartyandacidicflavorsofthecookedonion.“I’msogladshetoldusaboutit.”
“Metoo,”Dakotasaysquietly.
Iknowthatquiet.
Thatquietisaresultofherthinkingheavilyaboutsomething.
Thatquiethasbeenpresentthroughalmostourentiredrive.
Yes,weweretakingintheviewsandlisteningtotraditionalScottishmusic,butsheusuallycommentsonafewthings,attheveryleast.Therewasnocommentingthistime.
Ibumpherwithmyshoulder.“What’sgoingoninthatheadofyours?Anddon’ttellmenothing.We’vebeenfriendssincethefourthgrade—Iknowwhenyou’rethinkingtoohard.”
“DoIreallygiveitaway?”
“Smokecomesoutofyourears.IliketothinkofitassortofaBatsignal,butjustforme.”Cuppingmyhandsaroundmymouth—piebalancedprecariouslyonmylap—Isay,“Alert,alert,Bonnie,helpisneeded.Helpisneeded.”
“Youaresostupid.”Dakotalaughsandthenletsoutalongsigh.“I’mscared.”
“Scared?”Iask,turningtofaceher.Sorry,scenery.“Whyareyouscared?”
“Idon’tthinkIknowhowtonavigatethisthingwithIsla.AndI’mreallystartingtolikeher.Idon’twanttomakeamistake.”
“Dakota—”
“IsabellawasalwaystellingmethatIwasdoingthingswrong.Iwasn’tholdingherhandenough.Iwasn’tgivingherenoughaffection.Iwasn’tdressingthewayshewantedmetodress.Iwasn’tpostingenoughaboutgayrights.IshouldbeusingmyInstagramplatformforthelesbiancommunity,notformybusiness.Iwasn’t.?.?.gayenough.”Shouldersslouched,shetwistsherhandsinherlap.“Thosewordshauntme.Icanstillseeherwiththatblonde,whenIfoundtheminbedtogether.Shedidn’tevencareIcaughthercheatingonme.Shejustshruggedandsaid,‘You’renotgayenoughforme;Imovedon.’Whatif.?.?.whatifit’sthesamewithIsla?”
Angereclipsesme,andIhavetotakeabriefpausebeforeIsaysomethingthatwon’thelpthesituation—onlymagnifyit.
OnceI’mfeelingcalm,ItakeDakota’shandinmine.“Iwanttomakeonethingclear:beinggaydoesn’tdefineyou.Doyouunderstandthat?Ithinksometimespeoplefallundertheimpressionthatifyou’regay,that’swhoyouare.You’regay,andtheyleaveitatthat.Butthat’snotfair.Andjustlikeabeautiful,nonsmellyonion”—shechuckles—“youhavelayers,andbeinggayisn’ttheouterring;itisn’teventhesecondorthird.It’sdeepatyourcore,andyoukeepitthere,closetoyourheart,becausethat’sthewayyouchoosetoliveyourlife.Youchoosetodefineyourselfasagoodfriend.Asabeautifulartist.Asasavvybusinesswomanwhohasusedherplatformtogrowherfreelancework.Youaresomuchmorethanalesbian.Yes,that’sapieceofwhoyouare,butit’snotthedefinition.”
Shesmilessoftlyandtiltsherhead,restingitonmyshoulder.“Iloveyou.”
“Iloveyoutoo.”Ikissthetopofherhead.“Isabellaputyouthroughhell,andshe’smadeyousecond-guesseverypieceofyouthatmakesyouspecial,unique,thebestfriendyouare.Don’tletoneperson’sblindedopinionofyoumakeyouquestionthepersonyou’vegrowntobe.”
“Ilovedher,though.Shewasmyfirst.?.?.ever.ShehelpedopenmyeyestoapartofmeIwashidingforsuchalongtime.Shewasrightaboutmybeinggay,whichwasthebiggestrevelationofmylife.It’shardnottotrustheropiniononeverythingelse,whensheknewIwasgay.”
“Icanunderstandthat.”Istrokeherhair.“Yes,shemighthaveopenedyoureyes,butthat’sallshedid.Andifitwasn’ther,itwasgoingtobeanothergirl—youjusthappenedtorunintoIsabellafirst.Don’tgiveherallthecreditforsomethingthatwasboundtooccur.”Iliftherchinupsoshehastolookmeintheeyes.“Thisisyourchancetogrow,Dakota.Yourchancetobeyourself,notthepersonIsabellawantedyoutobe.”Imotiontothevalleyinfrontofus.“Andwhatbetterplacetodoitthanhere,inScotland.”
Shechuckles.“You’reright.”
“IknowIam.”Ismile,pickingupmypie.“GiveyourselfsomegracewhenitcomestoIsla.Itwilltakeabitoftimetogetusedtonavigatinganewrelationship,butsheseemspatient,kind,andunderstanding.Thebestyoucandoforher,andforyou,isbeyourself.”Itakeabiteofmypieandchew.
“Whendidyoubecomesowise?”
“Ithinkit’salltheshortbreadandScottishair.”
Dakotastudiesme,asmirkplayingatherlips.“Ithinkyou’restartingtofindyourselfhere.”
“Yeah?”
Shenods.“Iseeanewsparkinyoureyes.There’sexcitementinyourvoice.”
“Iamexcited.Theentiredrivehere,whileweweretakinginthelandscape,Ikeptwritingdownideasforthecoffeeshopandmyplanofattack.Wanttohearthem?”
“Iwouldloveto.”
“Enjoy,”IsaytoanoldmanwearingaplaidshirtwithSCOTLANDembroideredonthebackasheleavestheshop,coffeeinhand.
HetoldmehestoppedinonthisMondaymorningbecauseheheardthecoffeewasboringandthat’swhathelikes—boringcoffee.
Yayforthesale,butservingcoffeetoasmalldemographicofcantankerouscrotchesisn’treallywhatI’mlookingfor.
Leaningagainstthecounter,Ipulloutmygoatnotebookandlookovermynotes.There’ssomuchIwanttodo,butIhonestlydon’tknowwheretostart.IreallywanttogooverthisstuffwithRowan,andthatwastheidealurkinginmyheadtheothernight,tomaybetalksomethingsthrough.Butthen,whenwestartedjustgettingtoknoweachotherandhavingfun,Ididn’tfeellikebringingupthecoffeeshop.
Nope,Ibroughtuphisdeadbrotherinstead.
Smart,Bonnie.Reallysmart.
Exhaling,Ipressmyforeheadtomyhandandstartdoodlingonthesideofmynotebook.
Dakotaisoveratthebakeshop—noshockthere—andthroughtheopendoor,IspotLachlanandLeith,injusttheirkilts,ofcourse,doingjumpingjacksandliftingalogovertheirheadswhileFerguswatchesoverthem.Touristsfromthecurrentbuscirclearound,countingalongwiththemandtakingpictures.
Yup,quitethesighttobehold.
I’vecheckedoutafewoftheirtrainingvideosonline,andtheyreallyhavesomethinggoingforthem.AndDakotahasbeenhelpingthemoutwithsomegraphics—I’veseentheroughdrafts,andtheyaregoingtodieoverthem.
Alargeframestepsthroughthedoor,pullingmefrommydoodling.Rowan’sfacecomesintofocusasmyeyesadjusttothelight.Iliftmyselfupoffthecounter,asmilestretchingovermyface.
“Hey.”
“Hey,isDakotahere?”Heglancesaround.
“No.”
“Och,okay.Issheatthebakeshop?”
“Yeah,why?”
“Justwantedachat.”Heturnstowalkaway,andInearlytripovermyownfeetrunningafterhim.
“Waitasecond.That’sall?”
Chuckling,heturnsbackandpullsmeclose.“Justkidding,lass.Wantedtoseehowyouweregoingtoreact.”
“Pissingmeoffisn’tdoingyouanyfavors.”
“IthasbeensinceImetyou.”Hegivesmethesmallestofkissesandthenreleasesmebeforewalkingovertoatableandbringingmewithhim.Webothtakeaseat,andheleansback,casuallysittinginthechairwhilemybodyhums,readyforanythinghewantstogive.“Sawamanleaveherewithsomecoffee.”
“Hesaidhelikedboringcoffee,sothiswastheplaceforhim.”
“Ouch.”Rowanlaughsandglancesaroundtheemptyspace.“So.?.?.what’stheplan?”
“Plan?”
“Fortheshop.Whatareyougoingtodo?”
“Oh,well,Imean.?.?.Ihavesomeideas,butIhaven’tstartedanything.”
“Whynot?”
“BecauseIwantedtorunthembyyoufirst.Thisisyourfamily’sshop,afterall.”
“Aye,true.”Henodsatme.“Then,run’embyme.”
Simpleasthat,huh?
Excitedtoshare,Iruntothecounter,grabmynotebookandpen,andsitdownacrossfromhim.“Now,thesearejustideas—nothingisconcrete.”
“Hitme.”
“Well,weneedtopowerwashthesefloors—they’regrimyandneedanewlife.”
Heglancesdown.“Aye.Ihaveapowerwasher.”
“That’samazing,really?God,Ilovepowerwashers.Unsungheroesofrenovating.Ican’twaittoblowthedirtoffthese—”
“You’renotusingit,”hesayswithfinality.“I’lldoit.”
Uh,excuseme?
“Ohno.I’llhavethepleasureofdoingit.I’vespentwaytoomanyboredhoursinherewatchingpower-washingcompilationsonYouTubetonothavethepleasureofdoingitmyself.”
“You’vebeenwatchingpower-washingvideosonYouTube?”
Doesn’teverybody?
“Yes,it’squitesoothing.Likerakingsandinoneofthosesandgardenspeoplekeepondesks.It’scrazysatisfyingtowatchdirtbeblastedawaybywater.I’mafraidtoadmitI’veprobablycommittedatleasttenhourstowatchingcompilationsonline.Pairedwithfunmusic,andyou’vegotyourselfawonderfulwaytowastesometime.”
Heblinksafewtimes.“You’reserious.”
“DoIneedtoshowyoumyYouTubehistory?Idon’tevenneedtosearchthemoutanymore—theyjustshowuponthesuggestedfeed.Butdoyouknowwhatreallychapsmyass?”Ileanforwardconspiratorially.“It’swhentheseYouTubepeoplecompilesomeofthesamepower-washingvideos.I’veseenthemalready—wewantnewmaterial.”Ishakemyfistintheair.
“IthinkI’mgoingtotakebacktheothernight.”
“Can’t,”Isaywithasmile.“Alreadyhadmymouthonyourdick,andthatmeansIclaimedyou.”Hiseyesseductivelynarrowasheshiftsinhischair.“Oh,youlikethat,huh?Metalkingabouthavingyourc—”
“Watchit,Bonnie,thisteasingcangobothways.”
Mymouthsnapsshut.Basedonpastexperience,I’massuminghecoulddosomerealdamage.
“Anyway.”Iclearmythroat,tappingmypenonmynotebook.“Powerwashingandthensomefreshpaintonthewalls.Ithinkwestickwiththebeautifulwhiteinhere,butfreshenitup,andthereddooraswell.Ilovethecolorsinhere,butthey’vedulledovertime.Anddoyouthinkwecouldaddshutterstothewindowsandsomewindowboxes?Isthatsomethingyouknowhowtodo?”
Henods.“Aye.”
“Willittakeyoulong?”
“Fewhours.”
“Really?Gah,okay.Ithinkitwilldressuptheoutsideandmakeitmoreinviting.Andasfortheinside,weneedsomenewtables.These”—Itaponthetable—“arefirewood.Isthereaplacearoundherewherewecangetsometablesandchairs?”
“KyleofLochalsh.”
“Uh,what?”
“Quickfifteen-minutedrivetothewest.Largertown,hasawoodworkerthere.HamishandAlasdairbothboughttheirtablesandchairsfromthere,andreasonablypriced.Maw’sbeenwantingtopurchasesome,butDasaidonlyoncethesetablesfallapart.”
“Well,lookslikeI’mtakinganaxtothem,becausetheyneedtofallapart.”Imakeanoteinmynotebook.“Wouldyoubewillingtotakemeoverthere?Idon’teverwanttodriveontheseroadsmyselfagain.”
“Aye,Icantakeyou.WecangoeatattheWatersideRestaurantafter.”
Ipause,lookup.“Areyou.?.?.areyouaskingmeout?”
Withthatdevilishsmirk,heleansoverthetableandpinchesmychin.“Aye,lass.Iam.Areyousayingyes?”
“Idon’tknow.?.?.?,”Itease.
Hechuckles,leansover,andplantsachastekissonmylips.“Offerstandsforaslongasittakestobeaccepted.”
Myohmy,he’sthecharmer.Heknowsexactlyhowtomakemeweakintheknees.
“Iwouldlovetogooutwithyou,Rowan.”
“Good.Wednesdaynight.”
“Okay.Afterweclosetonight,Iwouldliketopowerwashthefloors.Canyoubringoverthemachine?”
“You’renotpowerwashing.”
“Thisisnotupfordiscussion,Rowan.”Istabmypentothetable.“Iampowerwashing,andthentomorrowwecanpaint.”
“We?”Heliftsabrow.
“Yes.We.I’mgoingtoaskDakotatoaskIslaaswell.ThinkyoucanasktheMurdachtwins?”
“What’sinitforme?”Hetapshisfingersonthetable,casual,lookingashandsomeasever.
“OurdateWednesdaynight.”
“You’retheonewhowantedadate.”
“Don’tactlikeyoudon’twanttotakemeout,”Iscoff.“You’relookingforarepriseoftheothernight.”
“I’mlookingforalotmorethanthat,andI’mnottalkingphysically.”
Oy.Thisman.
“Whenyousaythingslikethat,yougivemechillsandbutterfliesatthesametime,”Iadmit.“Makesmefeelreallyspecial.”
“’Causeyouare,lass.”Henodstowardmypaper.“Whatelseyougot?”
Howhecanjustbouncearoundtopicslikethat,unfazed,isimpressive.Mymindisstillrunningthroughlastnight,andhe’sjustchuggingalongthroughtheconversation.
Gatheringmywits,Iask,“IsthatayestotheMurdachtwins?”
“Aye.”
“Thankyou.”Islipmyhandinhis,andheholdsittight.“Ifoundanespressomachineonlinethat’sforsaleinInverness.It’sayearold,andthecoffeehouseisgoingoutofbusiness—aStarbuckstookover.”Rowanrollshiseyes.“They’resellingeverythingtheycan,andtheysaidthey’reputtingthemachineonholdforme.DakotawasgoingtogopickitupwithIsla,andthenwe’regoingtostarttestingnewdrinks.Nothingtoofancy—justenoughtoenticemorepeopleintotheshop.There’salsoalocalteabrandI’veseenaroundtownthatIwouldlovetocarryintheshop,tooffersomethingtocustomerswhodon’tdrinkcoffee.TheycarryaScottishbreakfast,EarlGrey,andaHighlandblendthatispositivelydelightful.”
“Goodidea.”
Hisapprovalsendsasurgeofconfidencethroughme.
“Asforfood.?.?.”Hisjawticks,hiseyesnarrow.“Wouldyouhelpme—?”
“No,”hesays,hisvoicestern.Whatisthedeal?
“Rowan.”
“I’mnotbakingfortheshop.”
“Iwasn’taskingyouto—ifyou’dletmefinish,”Isay,parrotinghiswordsfromtheotherday.“Teachmehowtomakebutteries—oh,andmaybethatcherrycakeandtattiescones?I’mprettygoodatfollowingdirections,andsinceweopenupatten,Icouldwakeupearly—nowthatI’musedtothetimedifference—andstartbakingfortheday.”Whenhedoesn’tsayanything,Isqueezehishand.“Please,Rowan.Foodisgoingtomakeahugedifference,anditwon’tcompetewithIsla.Ithinkifwehavethreesolidoptions,we’lldojustfine,especiallysincewe’llbemoreofastopforthetourists.We’dofferjustenoughforthem.”
Hedragshishandoverhisface.“Ihaven’tmadebutteriesinyears.”
“I’llbakewithmytopoff,orevencompletelynaked.?.?.justanapron.”
Thatpiqueshisinterest.Heraisesabrow.“You’llletmeteachyou,naked?”
“Yes.Howeveryouwantme—that’showI’llstaytheentiretime.Andifyouwantabreak,todo.?.?.whatever,”Isayinaseductivevoice,“then,wetakeabreak.”
“Sexandbaking.”
“Aye,”Isaywithawink,whichmakeshimchuckleandthenblowoutalongbreath.
“Youdriveahardbargain,lass.”
“Enticing,though,yeah?”
Heslowlynods,wettinghislips.“EspeciallysinceIhaven’tseenyoucompletelynakedyet.”
“Yourfault,notmine.Istrippedyoudown.You’retheonewhoonlypushedupmyshirt.”
“Regrettingthatmistakenow.”Hescratchesthesideofhisface,hisnailsscrapingalonghisthickscruff.“Deal.”
“Yeah?”Iask,excited.
“Aye,butyouwearnothingbutanapron.”
“Done.”Eeep.Excited—formanyreasons—Imakeanothernoteinmynotebook.“Thatleavesuswithmerchandise.Dakotaisgoingtodesignnewsigns,andwewouldlovetocomeupwithafunnameforthecoffeeshop,sinceeverythingelseintownhasone.Thenwecanmakeandsellmerchandisebasedonwhatwecalltheshop.WecaneasilyplayofftheBoabyStone,Fergus,orthehairycoo.?.?.”Anideapopsintomyhead.“OhmyGod,whatifwecalledtheshoptheHairyCooCoffeeCompany?Wecouldhangcuteblack-and-whitephotosofthecowsonthewalls,makesomehairycoo–themedmerchandise,andthendirectpeopletothefootpath,soitgetsmorevisitorsthanjustlocals.”
Hetwistshislipstotheside,consideringtheidea.“Youknow,IreallythinkMawandDawouldlikethat.They’vealwayslovedthehairycoo,andtheywereadrivingforcebehindthepathbeingmadeinthefirstplace.”
“Really?Thenit’smeanttobe.IbetDakotacouldmakeanadorablesignwiththe‘HairyCoo’frontandcenter.”
Henodsslowly,asmileplayingathislips.“Ireallyliketheidea.”
Thatlittlesmile,theexcitementinhisvoice.Idon’tthinkI’veeverfeltthismuchprideinmyentirelife,andforthefirsttimeinaverylongtime,Ifeel.?.?.useful.
“Whatareyoudoing?”
Istartle,droppingmyphoneonthecounter.Withasmirk,Rowanpicksitupandglancesatthescreen.Heraisesabrowasheshowsittome,asifIdon’tknowwhat’sonit.
“Power-washingvideos?”
“Don’tjudge!”Isnatchmyphoneawayandputitinmybackpocket.Onceweclosed,Imovedthetablesandchairsoutside.Earlier,Rowansaidhewouldtakecareofthembyliterallychoppingthemintofirewood.ItoldhimIdidn’tcarewhathedidwiththem,butifhediddecidetochopthemup,Iwasgoingtoneedaslo-movideoofthat,ofcoursewithhisshirtoff.Fromthelookinhiseyes,Ithinkhe’sgoingtodeliver.Wedecidedtoclosetheshopforthenextfewdayswhilewedosmallrenovations.Prettysurethepublicisn’tgoingtomissusmuch.
“Didyoubringit?”Iask,rubbingmyhandstogether.
“Yes,butyou’renot—”
“Balderdash,I’mdoingit.”Pushingpasthim,Iwalkovertothedoor,whereIspottheheftymachine.Beautifulinallitssplendor,aknightofdestroyinggrime.Afighteroffungus.Atruechampionofcleanliness.Theone,theonly.?.?.thepowerwasher.“Ryobi2300,nicechoice,”Isay,takingintherobustbeast.“Doesitcomewiththebonusturbonozzle?”
“It’sdisturbinghowmuchyouknowaboutpowerwashers.”
“Doesit?”Iask,needingtoknowtheanswer.
“Thenozzle’sattached,”Rowansays,soundingslightlyterrified.
“Beautiful.Andyouhookedituptothehosealready.Thisisadream.”Ipickupthemetalspraywandandtesttheweight.
“Whoa,whoa,whoa,Bonnie.”
“FromwhatI’veread,youjustpressthisbutton.”Thepowerwasherturnsonwithasoothinghum.“Andthen—”Ipullonthehandleandblastwateroutofthenozzle.Thesmallkickbackstartlesme.Ibackintothedoorframeoftheshop,flingingmyarmout—andsprayingRowandirectlyinthecrotch.
Uh-oh.
Man.
Down.
“OhGod.”Idropthesprayhandleandrunovertohisbody,curledonthefloor.“Rowan,areyouokay?”
“Toldyou.?.?.notto,”hesays,breathinghardandcradlinghiscrotch.
“Didit.?.?.didI.?.?.??”OhGod.“DidIsprayyourballsoff?”
Heletsoutadrycoughandshakeshishead.“Nah,bawsareinplace,butyoudefinitelytookoutafewofthecadets.”
“Sperm?”Iask,rubbinghisback.
“Yes,Bonnie.?.?.sperm.”
“Hopefullytheyweregoingtobeslowswimmersanyway.”Ipathisback,andmyeyesstraytothepowerwasher.Eveninmyguilt,Ican’thelpatugoflonging.“Ihopeyouknow,Itrulywishthebestforyourcrotchatthismoment,butI’mgoingtoneedyoutogetupsoIcangototownonthesefloors.”
Heglancesupatmefromhisfetalposition.“Areyouserious?”
“Deadserious.IcanfeelitinmybonesthatI’mapower-washingwizard.”Itugonhisarm.“Let’sgetyouuponthecounter,outofrange,andyoucanwatchovermewhileyounurseyourboabyandbaws.”
“Idon’tthinkanythingisoutofrangeforyou,”hegroans,slowlygettingup.
Ikeepasteadygriponhimashehobblestothecounterandhoistshimselfup.“Iwasn’tpreparedforthewandtojumplikethat.Knowingthekindofpowerthatelectricpuppyispacking,I’llbeinaproperlypreparedstancenow.”Ipathimonthelegandammovingtowalkawaywhenhesnagsmyarmandspinsmetowardhim.
Hekissesmequickly.“Youmighthavedestroyedanypossiblebonersfortoday,buthearingyourconfidence.?.?.well,itverywellmightrestorewhatyoujustdestroyed.”
“Ismyconfidenceaturn-on?”
“Yourconfidencemakesmehappy,Bonnie,”hesaysseriously.“Makesmebelieveyou’restartingtofindthatpurpose,andthat’swhatmatters.”
Takenaback,Isay,“Wow,McGrumpyshire,you’reabouttogetyourselflaid.”
Hegroans,shiftingtotheside.“Waituntiltomorrow.”
Chuckling,Igivehimonemorekissandthengobacktothepowerwasherandpickupthewand.“ShouldIstartinthecorner?”
“Aye,andthenworkallthedirttowardthedoor.”
“Okay.Igotthis.”
Withadeepbreath,Igetintomystance,holdthewandwithagoodstiffarm,andthenpullbackonthetrigger.Igetasmallkickback,butthistimeI’mpreparedandholdstrong,immediatelyblastinggrimeofftheoldwoodfloors.Iperformaspottest,likeallgoodpowerwashers,nomorethanafewsquareinches,butasthewaterblastsagainstthehardwoodfloors,Iimmediatelyseehowmuchthisisgoingtochangethelookoftheshop.WhenIreleasethetrigger,lettingthewatersloshforasecondandclearout,Ileanforwardandmarvelatthestunningoakfloorthat’sbeenherethiswholetime.
“Rowan,it’sbeautiful.”
“Isit?Ihonestlycan’trememberatthispoint.”
“Itis,andthepowerwasherdoesn’tseemtopullupanyofthewoodorstain.ShallIcontinue?”
“You’reapparentlytheexpert.Goahead.”
Excitementpulsesthroughme.Igetintoposition.?.?.andblast.
“Bonnie,ohmygosh,”Dakotasays,walkingintothecoffeeshopforthefirsttimesinceIcleanedthefloors.ShehadherdatewithIslalastnight,sowhileshewasout,Itookcareofbusiness.Honestly,Idon’tknowwhichwasmoresatisfying:havingRowanbetweenmylegsorwashingallthedirtoffthesefloors.
Ofcourse,Iwouldnevertellhimthat.
Don’twanttogivethemanacomplex.
Hewasamazingtheothernightandall.?.?.but.?.?.powerwashing.?.?.
“Theylookbrandnew.”
“Right?I’msopleased.ImadeRowantakeafewphotos.”IpulloutmyphoneandshowherthepicturesRowanreluctantlytookofmewieldingthewasherwhilehenursedhismanhood.
“Youlooklikeatotalboss.”
“Right?ImadethisonemyInstagramprofilepic.”
“Howcouldyounot?”
Justthen,Islaandthetwinscomeintothecoffeehouse.Allthreeofthemstopandtakeinthefloors.
“Holycrap,”Leithsaysfirst.
“Wow,”Lachlanadds.“Weneedtodothistoourfloors.”
IslawalksuptoDakotaandslipsherhandinhers.“Youdidawonderfuljob,Bonnie.”
“Thanks.”Ibeamwithpride.“Itwasprettyeasyandextremelysatisfying.I’mmorethanhappytodoitforanyoneelsewhomightneedsomethingpowerwashed.IthinkI’vefoundanewhobby.”
“Justkeepyourcrotchcovered,”Rowansays,walkingintotheshopbehindthem
“Yeah,Bonnietoldmesheblastedyouintheballs,”Dakotasays.“Areyouokay?”
“Nothing’sbeendamaged,butIdidfeellikeItookaclassicfootballtosstotheoldlad.”
“Rowantoldusaboutitthismorning,”Leithsays.“GladIdidn’tfollowthroughwithaskingyouout,orelsethatcouldhavebeenme.”
“Asifshewouldhavesaidyes,”Lachlansays.
“Sheshowedinterest.”
“Sorrytotellye,butsheonlyhadinterestinme,lads,”Rowansays,walkingoverandpressinghislipstomine.Soft,yetfirm.Bestkisser,handsdown.
“Fullofyourselfmuch?”Iask,eventhoughhe’sexactlyright.
“Nay,IjustknowinfatuationwhenIseeit.”Hewinksandthennodstothedoor.“Leith,Lachlan,grabthepaintsupplieswhilewelaydownthepaintcloths.Wedon’twantanythingtomessupthesefloors.”
Myohmy,lookatRowantakingaction.Thebossinessiskindofaturn-on.
BossyMcGrumpyshire.?.?.hasaniceringtoit.
Whilethetwinsareout,therestofusgettoworkontheclothdrapes,liningthemupwiththebaseboardsandtapingthemdown.“Heardyoutwoweresnogginglastnight,”RowansaystoIslaandDakotawithagrin.
What?Isnapmyheadtowardthem.
Theysnogged?
Asin,theyhadtheirfirstkiss?
Whywasn’tIinformedofthismonumentaloccasion?
“Wait,youhadyourfirstkisslastnightandyoudidn’ttellme?”Itrytohidethehurt,butit’sheavyinmyvoice.DakotaandItelleachothereverything,andafirstkisswithaScottishlassisdefinitemust-needinformation.
“WetechnicallykissedonSunday.”Islawinces.
“Sunday?”Ishout.“When?Iwaswithyouthewholeday,Dakota.”
Sheglancesaroundtheshop,lookinguncomfortable.“Uh,youknowthoseflowersIpickedwhenwewereoutexploringthatfield?IbroughtthemovertoIslawhenIwentonthatwalkafterwegotback.Wekissedthen.”
“Andyoudidn’ttellme?”Iroar.
“You’vebeenalittleoccupied.”ShenodstowardRowan.
IpushRowanoutoftheway.“Uh,that’snotareasontonottellme.Yourfirstkissiswaymoreimportantthanthatirritabledoof.”Hegrumblessomethingnexttome,butIignorehim,turningmyattentiontoIsla.“Howwasit?Didmygirlwinyouover?Ikissedheronce,andshehadthesoftestlips.Wasitagoodkiss?”
Islasmiles.“Aye,itwasaverygoodkiss.”
“God.”Itossopenadropcloth.“Andthenyoumadeout.Wheredidyoumakeout?”
“Isla’splace,”Leithsays,walkinginwithLachlan,theirarmsfullofpaintcans,pans,androllers.
“Canwenotairoutallthedetails?”Islasays.
“Whydotheyknowallthedetails?”Dakotaasks.
“Yeah”—Iplantmyhandsonmyhip—“whydotheyknowallthedetails?”
Cautiously,IslalooksbetweenherbrothersandDakota.“Theywerepervertsandlookedthroughthewindows.”IslasqueezesDakota’shand.“IpromiseIdidn’ttellthem.”
“Okay,”Dakotasaysquietly,andtheyexchangealook,thekindoflookI’dexchangewithmybestfriend.Thekindoflookthattellseveryonearoundthemthattheyarecloseenoughtocommunicatewithoutwords.
Andthat’snotsomethingIlikeverymuch.
Isthatwhyshedidn’tsaysomethingtome?Becausethey’renotsharingtheirrelationshipwithmanypeople?Though,apparently,newsgetsaround.
Igetkeepingitquiet,butwhywouldn’tshewanttosharewithme?
“Lookedlikeagoodsnoggingsession,”Lachlansays,clearlynotreadingtheroomashestartspouringpaintintopaintpans.
“Canyoushutup?”Islasnaps.
“Imean,Ican,butIdon’twantto.”
“Enoughwiththesnoggingtalk,”Rowancutsin.“Weneedtofocusonthepainting.”Rowantotherescue,likealways.“Wehavetodotheceiling,moldings,andwalls.Theonlythingsnotgettingpaintedinherearethewoodbeamsontheceilingandthewoodfloors.Pleasebecarefultokeepthoseclean.Andpairup.LeithandLachlan,taketheceiling.I’llworkontherightsidewithBonnie,andyougirlscovertheleft.I’mbuyingdrinksifwegetthisdonebyeight.”
Thatencouragestheboys,whoquicklygettowork,whileDakotaandIslastartontheirside.Iwatchfromacrosstheroomastheymurmurtoeachother,laughingandsmiling.Ifeelapangofjealousy.
WhenDakotawaswithIsabella,Ineversawheractthewayshe’sactingnow—contentandcarefree.ThatshouldhavebeencluenumberonethatIsabellawasn’tthegirlforher.ButseeingherwithIsla,italmostfeelslike—andIknowthismightsoundstupid—butitalmostfeelslikemybestfriendisbeingstolenawayfromme.IknowIencouragedhertogoforit,butstill.?.?.agirlcanfeelleftout.
WithIsabella,shetoldmeeverything.Fromeveryhandhold,everylook,everykiss,Iwasthere,stepbystep,helpingherrealizethatit’sokaytolikeagirl.It’sokaytocomeoutofyourshellandrealizeexactlywhoyouare.
Andnow,withIsla,Iselfishlyexpectedtobeinvolvedeverystepofthewayaswell.But,sadly,I’mstartingtoseeDakotagrowwingsandpullaway.GoingtotalktoIslaalone,thedoubledatethatturnedintoasingleone,andnowthis.
It’salmostasif.?.?.shedoesn’tneedmeanymore,andthatstrikesmehard,because,ifanything,DakotagavemeanounceofpurposewhilefightingthroughtheseunknownfeelingsI’veabsorbed.
Nowwhat?
Doubtandlonelinessstarttocreepintothebackofmymind.
I’mtemptedtoaskRowanifIcanswitchpartners,butthat’sjustanoverreaction.Right?I’moverreacting.I’mthrownoffthateveryoneknewabouttheirkissandIdidn’t.I’veknownDakotaforever.We’veknowneverylittlethingabouteachother’slives,andbeingleftoutofthisimportantfactoid—herkissinghersecondgirlever—stings,forsure,butI’llgetoverit.Shelookshappy,andIdon’twanttomakeabigdealoversomethingthatwillprobablyseemsotrivialtoher.
Inthegrandschemeofthings,itdoesn’tmatter.
WhatmattersisDakota’shappiness.Andwithoneglanceintheirdirection,Icantellshe’strulyfindingherplacehereinCorsekelly.
Deepbreaths,Bonnie.It’sfine.You’refine.
“Hey,youallright?”Rowanasks.
“Huh?Ohyeah,sorry.Just,uh.?.?.thinking.”Itackonasmile,butIthinkwebothknowit’sfake.
It’sfine.Itwillallbeokay.
You’renotlosingyourfriend.
Stopoverreactingandhavefun.
Itakeadeepbreath,grabarollerfromRowan,andheadtothewall.Beforewestart,heleansinandkissesmeonthesideofthehead.“Datetomorrow.”
Thatbringsasmiletomyface.“Areyougoingtodressup?”
“Areyou?”
“Naturally.Iplanondressingupundermyclothesaswell.”Iwigglemybrows,andhelaughs.
“Dressin’downwouldbebetter.”Hewiggleshisbrowsback.
“Ifyouexpectmetowearadresswithnounderwear,you’reoutofyourmind.”
“Worthashot.”Hedotsmynosewithsomepaintandthengetstowork.CHAPTERFIFTEEN
ROWAN
Power-washedballs:Check.
Datewithpower-washingqueen:Check.
Nervous.
Excited.
Hopeful.
It’sallIcansayaboutmyupcomingdatewithBonnie.
Icouldn’tsleeplastnight.
Asrainpeltedagainstmybedroomwindow,IkeptthinkingaboutCallumandwhathewouldhavethoughtofBonnie.There’snodoubttheywouldhavebecomegoodfriends.Theybothlovedrivingmecrazy,testingme,challengingme.Theywouldmostlikelyhavebecomebestfriendswithinaweek.
Andthatmakesmefuckingsad,whichiswhyI’moutinmyshedatfourinthemorning,doorswideopensoIcanwatchtherainpepperthealready-saturatedground.
Callumwaskeenonmypottery.Massivelyso,actually,andhewasalwaysbadgeringmetodosomethingwithmytalent.IcanstillheartheaweinhisvoicewhenIshowedhimtheveryfirstbowlImade.Itwaswonky,uneven,andnotmuchofabowl,butdamnitifCallumdidn’tuseitalmosteverydaywhenhewasbaking.Hecouldn’tfathomhowapieceofwetclaycouldbeformedintosomethingsobeautiful.
Clayalreadyprepped,Iturnonmywheel.ThehumofthemotorfillsmysmallspaceasIdipmywetfingersintothesoggyclay,layingthegroundworkforamug
Youhaveatalent,Rowan,hesaid.Useit.Whystayherewherenoonecanappreciateit?BuildupyourstockandmovetoEdinburgh,whereit’sswimmingintouristslookingtotakehomeapieceofScotland.
Andthatwastheplan.
IwasgoingtohelpbakeforafewmoreyearsuntilCallumwasfullyreadytotakeovertheshop,andthenIwasgoingtodosomethingformyself.
That’swhatItoldmydaIwasgoingtodo.
Andthatwasthestartoftheriftbetweenthetwoofus.
I’dthoughthe’dgetoveritwithtime,butheneverdid,andonceCallumpassedaway.?.?.well,wehaven’tbeenabletorecover.Dakeepspushingmefurtherandfurtheraway.
Thebreezegustsoutside,sendingamistofraininmydirection.IwelcomeitasIsitunderthesingledimlightinmyshed.That’sallIturnedon.It’sallIwanted.
Withasigh,Iclearmyheadofthepast.Needingtofocusonsomethingpositive,Iworkontheclayinfrontofme,slowlyraisingthesides,hollowingitoutintotheshapeIdrewthismorning.
SomethingthatwouldfitBonnie’ssmallhandsbutalsoleaveplentyofroomforthecoffeesheneedstofunctioninthemorning.
Afterourconversationabouttheshopandallherideas,IknewrightawayIneededtomakehersomethingtoreflectthisnewjourneyshe’son.Theideacametomethismorning.Asimplemugwithacinchinitswaist,aflareatthetop,andahairycoostampedontheside.
Turningtowardtherain,feelingtheweightofitpoundagainsttheground,Ismiletomyself.
“Whatdoyouthink,Callum?Thinkshe’lllikeit?”
Anotherbreezepicksup,andIsmile,realizingjusthowcontentIfeelinthismoment.Claybetweenmyfingers,mybrotherbymyside,withthoughtsofBonniedrippingthroughmymind.
Thepainandtheanxietyovermyparentsallwashawaywiththerain,makingmethinkthatmaybethingsareabouttochangeforme.Maybethisisthestartofsomethingnew.
Somethingtrulyspecial.?.?.
Icheckmyhaironelasttimeintherearviewmirrorofmypickupandthenopenthedriver’ssidedoor.Idon’thavemanyfancyclothes,butIdidfindapairofbarelyworndark-washedjeansinmydrawersandpairedthemwithalight-greenbutton-upshirt.Imadesuretostylemyhairandspritzonsomecologne.Iknowshelikesmyscruff,soIdidn’tshave,hopingtorubitagainsthersoftskinlater.
Withadeepbreath,Iheadtothecottageandknockonthefrontdoor.IknowDakotaandIslaarewalkingaroundthelochrightnow.IcaughtthemstrollingandholdinghandswhileIdroveoverhere,soI’mnotexpectingtorunintoanyonebutBonnie.
Icouldn’thelpbutnoticeaglimmerofjealousyinBonnie’seyesyesterdayatIslaandDakota’sstrongconnection.Iconsideredaskingheraboutitbutdecidedatthelastminutenotto.Ididn’twanttodiveintoanythingthatcouldmakeheruncomfortable,eventhoughsheseemstohavenoproblemaskingmeallsortsofcringe-inducingquestions.
Butyesterdaywasdifferent.Herusualconfidencedisappeared,andsheseemedsofragile,almostembarrassedthatshedidn’tknowDakotaandIslahadkissed,andIdidn’twanttoelevatethatembarrassment.SoIdroppedit.
Hopefully,afterweleftthepub,theyworkedoutwhateverawkwardnesstheyweregoingthrough.
Footstepsapproachinsidethecottage.
Thedooropens.
Andfuckingshite.
MybreathisstolenatthesightofBonnie.
Dressedinapale-yellowdressthathugshercurvesandhighlightsherbreasts,shesmilesbrightlyatme.Herhairhangsoverhershouldersincurls,hereyesaredevastatinglypiercing,andherlipsarepaintedglossypink.IcanhonestlysayI’veneverseenanyonemorebeautiful.
“Wow,lass.”Ismoothmyhandovermymouth.“Youlookstunning.”
Sheswayscutely.“Youlookquitehandsomeyourself.”
Imoveinandloopmyarmsaroundher,myhandsfallingtothespotjustaboveherass.Thankstotheheelsshe’swearing,Idon’thavetobenddowntoofartokissher.WhatIwouldn’tgivetojustpushherthroughthisdoorandhavemywaywithher—butbasedonthenumberoftimesshe’saskedmeifI’dbetakingherout,Ineedtomakesureweactuallyleavethiscottage.
Aye.?.?.mygirl.
That’ssomethingIneverexpected.BeforeBonniecametoCorsekelly,IwasresignedtotheideathatIwasstuckinthetownIgrewupin,doingajobIhatedtoappeaseothers.Butnowitfeelsliketheremightbepossibilityforsomethingelse.Somethingmore.
Thatis,ifshewantstostayinScotland.SomethingItrytonotthinkabout.There’splentyoftimetoseeifthisgoesanywhere,plentyoftimetoconvincehertostayifitdoes.
“God,yousmellamazing,”shesays,pressingherlipstomineonelasttime,herhandsgrippingmyshirttightly.
“Thankyou.”Ifindherhandandwalkhertomypickup,whereIopenthedoorforher.Whenshe’ssituated,Igrabtheseatbeltandhandittoher.“Buckleup,lass.”Iwinkandroundthetruck,hoppinginonmyside.“Youhaven’tdriventotheInnerSoundyet,right?”
Sheshakesherhead.“No,DakotaandIwentnortheastonourexploration.Islagaveusdirectionstoabeautifulspotlookingoverarivervalley.”
“Aye,well,you’reinforaprettydrive.”Iturnthemusicupjustenoughsoshecanhearit.I’vechosenoneofmyfavoriteScottishbands,Tartanium,forourshortroadtrip.
“Wow,reallysettingthemood,aren’tyou?”shesaysoverthesofthumofafiddletakingasolorightbeforethedrumbeatkicksin.
Ismileather.“JusttryingtogiveyouthefullScottishexperience.Isitworking?”
“IthinkthefullScottishexperiencewillcomelater.Don’tyouthink?”
“Aye,ifyou’relucky,”Isay,laughing.
“I’mfeelingluckytonight.”
WespentagoodhouratCampbell’sCarpentrypickingouttables.ThereweretwosetsBonniecouldn’tdecideon,soweoptedtomixandmatchthem,whichwillgivethespaceamoreeclecticfeel.Withthenewtablesandchairsordered,apurchaseIknowMawwillbehappyabout,wewalkedthroughKyleforaweebit,spentsometimearoundthewaterfront,andnowwe’resittingintheWatersideRestaurant,ourfoodorderedanddrinksonthetable.Smilesstretchoverbothofourfacesaswestareateachotherinthedimlighting.
“WhowerethecelebritiesyouassistedbackintheStates?”Iask,breakingthecomfortablesilence.
“Myfirstjob,Iwasassistanttoanexecutivemanagerforaproductioncompany.TheguyfiredmebecauseIwouldn’tsitonhislapwhenheaskedmeto.”
Angerrollsoverme.“Seriously?”
“Yeah.HesaidhecouldreallyhelpfurthermycareerifIhelpedhimout.?.?.”
“Whatthefuckiswrongwithmen?”Itakeasipofmywater.Ididn’toptforabeerbecauseI’mdriving,butI’mcomingdownwiththeurgetodrink.“Ihopeyoutoldhimtofuckoff.”
“Idid.AndthenhescreamedthatIwouldneverworkintheindustryagain.Whichwasn’ttrue,because,asyoucanimagine,therearealotofawfulpeoplewhoneedassistants,andsomeofthemdon’tcareifyouhaveareference.”
“Icouldseethat.”Growingserious,Ireachacrossthetableandtakeherhandinmine.“You’reverystrongformakingsurehedidn’ttakeadvantageofyou.”
“Thankyou,”shesaysquietly.“Lookingbacknow,IthinkIgrewtorespectmyselfabitmore.”Shesmilestoherself.“Youknow,Ineverlookedatitthatwayuntiljustnow.”
“Thatyougrewtorespectyourself?”
Shenods.“Yeah.”Hereyesconnectwithmine.“Thankyou.”
“Noneedtothankme,lass.You’rethebraveone.”
Hell,thewayshe’slookingatmerightnow,likeI’msomegoddamnhero,itpuffsmychestwhilesimultaneouslytwistingmystomachintonervousknots.Doesn’tsherealizehowmuchstrengthandcourageittakestostanduptosomeonelikeheroldboss?It’sahorribleandfartoocommonsituation,butthefactthatsherecognizedherworthinthatmomentmakesmewanttoplantmyselffirmlybyherside.
“Whoweretheothertwo?”Iask.
“ThesecondpersonIassistedwasabasketballplayer’swife,actually.Shewasprettynice,butitwasherrabidtrollofasisterwhowastheproblem.Sheaccusedmeofhittingonthebasketballplayer,whichofcoursewasn’ttrue.Forstarters,hewasn’tmytype—notmuchintotheblonds.”Shewinks.“ButI’malsomoreprofessionalthanthat.Ivaluedmyjobtoomuch,especiallyafterlosingthefirstone.Butalas,thewifedidn’tbelieveme,soIwasfired—yetagain.”
“Soundedlikeatoxicenvironmentanyway.”
“IdidlikeLisa,but.?.?.ugh,nowthatIthinkaboutit,shewastheonewhointroducedustoIsabella,Dakota’sex.IsabellawasworkingforoneofLisa’scollaborators.Soyeah,‘toxic’istherightwaytoputit.Wedidhavesomefuntimes,butthefundidn’toutweighthebad—notevenclose.Plus,Lisawastryingtolaunchherownmakeuplineandhadmetesttheproducts.Ohboy,thenumberoftimesmylipsswelledfromherlipsticksistoohightocount.”
“Whywasshestartingherownmakeupline?”
“ShewasonarealityTVshow,WivesofBasketballPlayers,andshewastryingtocapitalizeonherfame.Sheteamedupwithashittycompanythatdidn’tactuallycareabouttheproduct,justthesales,soofcourseitwasawful.Idon’tthinkshesoldmanybecauseofthewholelip-swellingissue.Shetriedtopassitoffasatingle,butitwasdone.”
“Karma.”Iwinkather.
“Exactly,andthelastpersonwhofiredmewasthebestbyfar.DaloriaDay.”
“Ohdamn,I’veheardofher.Isn’tsheinthatpopularTVdrama?”
“Yup,portrayedasAmerica’ssweetheart,butshewasapilltoworkwith.IknewthatgoinginandIwasprepared.Itooknotesoneverything,madesuretonevermakeawrongstep,andIdidn’t.Butthenacostarshewascrushingonsaidhitome.Shewasfuriousthathegavemethetimeofdayandhadneverdonethesametoher.So,shesaidIdidn’tmakehercoffeerightandfiredmeonthespot.”
“Isn’tthatironic,”Isay.“Givenwhatyou’redoingnow.”
“Ordershaven’tbeensupercomplicatedattheshop.”
“Doesn’tmatter—yougetitrighteverytime.”
Shelaughs,justasourfoodisdelivered.“Ohwow,thislooksamazing.”
Together,weorderedtheseafoodplatter,andit’sjustasbigasIremembered,piledhighwithcrablegs,lobster,smokedsalmon,oysters,clams,tatties,andlemonwedges.Holyhell,mymouthiswatering.Ican’trememberthelasttimeIcametoKyle,ortreatedsomeoneouttoanicemeal,butI’mgladIaskedBonnie—formanyreasons.
Iholdupanoyster.“Youshouldreallyeatallofthese.”
Shequirksherbrow.“DoyoureallythinkIneedanaphrodisiactogetfriskytonight?”
“Youtellme.”
“Icouldhavestayedintheminuteyoushoweduptomydoor.”
“Aye.?.?.metoo,lass.”
“Thisisn’tgoingtowork.”Bonnieshakesherheadandslapshernapkinonthetable.“We’regoingtoneedtoleave,actually.I’mgoingtoaskDakotatocomepickmeupsoIdon’thavetoridebackwithyou.”
“Couldyebeanymoredramatic?”
“Dramatic?”Hervoicerisesbeforesheleansinandwhispers,“You’veneverseenoneStarWarsmovie.Howisthatevensomething?IsthataScotlandthing?”
“No,Ijustneverfelttheneedtowatchthem.Notasci-fiperson.”
“It’snot—”Shepressesahandtoherforehead.“It’snotreallysci-fi.Imean,yeah,it’sinspace,butit’saspaceopera.There’sdramaandloveandlasersandsassydroidsandhairyseven-foot-tallbeaststhatspeakalanguageeveryoneunderstandsforsomereason.Andallthehiddenidentities,ugh,andthenewones,alittlebitchofasupremeleaderwhomightmakeyoulaughwhenyou’renotsupposedtobecauseofhowwhinyheis.Talkaboutdaddyissues.Andstrongfemales.Idon’tthinkpeoplegivePrincessLeiaenoughcredit,butshe’sonebadassleaderand,frankly,thegluethatholdseveryonetogether.”
Istareatherblankly.“Sassydroids?”
“Ugh,”shegroans.“You’rekillingme,Rowan.Whyareyoulikethis?”
“Justtoannoyyou.”
“Clearly.”Shetossesherhandsintheair.“Well,you’regoingtohavetowatchthemwithme.”
“Don’tbethatperson.”
“Oh,I’mgoingtobethatperson,andI’mnotevensorryaboutit,becauseforeverymovieyouwatch,I’llbounceupanddownonyourlap.”
Thatmakesmelaughoutloud.“Thewayyouuseyourwords—I’veneverheardsomeoneexpressthemselvesthewayyoudo.”
“Iaimtoplease.”Sheclapsherhandstogether.“Okay,sowhenisthismoviemarathon?”
“Howaboutafterwesetupthecoffeeshopandyoulearntobake?”
Shethinksonit.“Idon’tknow,Iwasthinkingtonight.”
Fuckno.
“No.”
“No?”
Ishakemyhead.“No.You’reminetonight.”
“Sincewejustpassedthecottage,I’massumingwe’regoingbacktoyourplace?”
“Youassumedright,”Isay,thebuildupoftheeveningdrivingmetothebrink
Herlittletoucheshereandthere,thestolenkisses,thatdress,theconversation,theteasing—it’salladdeduptothisphenomenalprospectofwhat’stocome.
Insilence,wedriveuptomycottage.Ihopoutandroundthepickupbeforeopeningthedoorforher,anticipationbuildinginmyveins.Aftertea,wewalkedtoKyle’sicecreamshop,wherewebothgotacupofwhitechocolateraspberryicecreamwithchocolatefudgeontop.Theentiredrivehome,allIcouldthinkaboutwastheprospectoftastingthefaintflavorsofchocolateandraspberriesonherlips.
Ibringherinsidethehouseandshutthedoorbehindme.“Bedroom,”Isay,noddingdownthehall.
“Notevengoingtoofferagirladrink?”
“Wantadrink?”Iaskquickly.
Sheshakesherhead.
“Thengetyoursweetarsetothebedroom.”
Shetakesmyhandinhersandleadsmetotheback,whichgivesmeamomenttoappreciateherarseinthisdress.Heartshapedandround,it’sperfect.Shecomplainedthatthedressfelttightthankstoalltheshortbreadshe’sbeeneating,butIthinkshelookslikeagoddamnknockout—andsodideveryladwhocameacrosshertonight.
Isawthedoubletakes,thewaytheireyestraveledoverherbody.Andfine,theycouldlookalltheywanted,buttherewasonlyoneScotshewasgoinghomewith.
Turningtowardme,shegoesstraighttomyshirt,whereshestartstoundothebuttons.
Wettingmylips,Iletherandkeepmyeyesonherstheentiretime.Whenmyshirtiscompletelyundone,shepushesitdownmyshouldersandletsitfalltothefloor.Fromthere,shemovestomyjeans,unbucklesthem,andunzipsthezipper.Ipushthemoffalongwithmyshoesandsocksandstandinfrontofherinnothingbutapairoftentedboxerbriefs.
“Sit,”shecommands,andhell,herbossinessisfuckinghot.Igladlycomply.Isitonthebedassheturnsherbacktomeandgathersherhairtotheside.“Unzipme.”
Withfuckingpleasure.
Ireachupandgrabthesmallzipper,lettingitglidedownherbackuntilIfindtheend.Slowly,shepushesthedressoffhershouldersandshimmiesoutofit,exposinghermatchingpale-yellowbraandthong.
Christ,herassisperfect,butbeforeIcangetmyhandsonit,sheturnsaroundandstraddlesme.Herarmsfalltomyshouldersassheglidesherpelvisagainstmine.
“Hell,Bonnie.”
Herlipsfindmine,andthey’rehungry,demanding,searchingforevenmorethanwehadtheothernight.
Shepushesmebackagainstthemattressandleansdown,herhairfloatingtotheside,herlipslockedonmineasherhipsstarttoslowlygrindagainstmine.
Ohfuckinghell.
“God,Ilovehowbigyouare,”shesaysagainstmylips,teasingmymouthopenandplunginghertongueinside.There’sasenseofurgencycomingoffher.Normally,I’dasktoslowdown,toliveinthegoddamnmoment,buthell,I’murgenttoo.
Ireachupbehindherandunhookherbra.Thestrapsfallquickly,andsheliftsup,tossingittotheside.
“Jesusfuck,you’resexy.”Myhandstraveluphertorsotoheramplebreasts.Icupthemandpassmythumbsoverhernipplesasshecontinuestogrindagainstme.Herbackarches,pressingherbreastsfartherintomyhands,andItakethatmomenttosqueezealittleharder.Withalightmoan,hermouthfallsopen.Shedoesn’tholdback,doesn’tstandforshyness.She’sconfident,shetakeswhatshewants,andshe’ssexyashelldoingit.
“Rowan,”shemoansagainwhenIpinchhernipples.Herhipsmovefaster,herhandslandingonmystomachnow,andIswearIcansenseherorgasmmovingtoitsapex.Herfingersdigintomystomach,herbreathsshorten,andhereyessqueezeshutasIrollhernipplesbetweenmyfingers.“Yes,ohmyGod.”Shefallsagainstmeandherlipsdescendonmine,whileherhipsbuckupanddown,untilfinally.?.?.
“Ohfuck,”shewhispers,drawingoutherorgasm,ourunderweartheonlybarrier.
Whenherhipsslowdown,Ifliphertoherbackandyankoffherthong,followedbymyboxerbriefs.MygoddamndickispainfullyhardasIreachforacondomfrommynightstandandrollitover.Bonnieisstilllightlypantingonthebed,hereyesshut.
“Lass.”Hereyesopen.“Areyouokay?”
Shesmiles.“Perfect.”Holdingoutherarms,shewelcomesmeintoherembrace,andIhoveraboveher,slowingdowntheeveningjustslightlysoshecangatherherself.Withoneelbowproppingmeup,Igivemyselfachancetoglidemyfingersoverhersoftskin,toherpuckerednipples,andthenallthewaydowntoherpubicbone.Irepeatthepathoverandoveragain,savoringthefeelofherskinandwatchinghowsoeasilysheisturnedon,howquicklyshecanrecoverandbereadyalloveragain.
“Iwantyouinsideme,”shewhispers.
“Iwantinsideyoutoo,lass.Desperately.”
Herhandscupmyface,andasshespreadsherlegs,shepresseshermouthtomine,lettinghertonguetellmeexactlywhatshewants.Positioningmycockatherentrance,IslowlypushinandcatchherexhaleonmylipsasIstretchheropen.
“Youallright?”Iwhisper.
“Sogood,”shesays,soImovealittlebitdeeper,eversocarefully,pumpinginandout,easingin.“So,sogood.”
Myhandcupsherface,andItenderlydragmythumboverhercheekasourkissesbecomefervent,muchneedierthanbefore,butI’mnoturgentwithmythrusts—Ikeepthosecontrolledandreallyfocusonhermouth,onmakingthatconnection
Thatis,untilshewrapsherlegsaroundmyhipsandpullsmeinalltheway.ShegaspswhileIgrunt,myeyesnearlyrollingtothebackofmyhead.
Warm.
Tight.
Goddamnheaven.
That’swhatshefeelslike.Fuckingheaven.
“More,Rowan,”shebegs.“Ineedmore.Ineedyoutomove.”
Ineedittoo.
Keepingmymouthonhers,Iliftupslightlyforabetterangleandstarttothrustinandoutofher.Itakeitslowatfirst,draggingouteachpulse,makingsureshecanfeeleveryinchofme.Andwitheverysecondthatpasses,Ipickupthepaceuntilwe’rebothbreathingheavilyandourbodiesareslappingtogether,ourmovementsbecomingerratic,ourpleasuremounting.
“God,Ican’tgetdeepenough,”Isaybeforemovingmymouthtoherneck,thendowntoherbreasts.
“Flipmeover.”
Takingcharge,Idojustthatandpropherassup.Igetuponmyknees,positionmyselfatherentrance,anddriveforward.
“OhmyGod,”shecriesout,squeezingtightlyaroundme.“Yes,Rowan.OhmyGod,yes.Justlikethat.”
Igripherhips,mycontrolstartingtowaverasIpumpintoheroverandoveragain.Hermoanstearthroughthesilentnight.
“Neverbeenthisgood,”Isay.“Never.”
“More.Harder.”
Ipickupthepace,reallyslammingintoher.Myheartratefeelsoutofcontrol,mymovementssloppyandoutofsync,butitdoesn’tmatterasmyorgasmbuildsatthebaseofmyspineandstartstospreadthroughallmylimbs.I’mabouttocome,andI’mabouttocomehard.
“Yes,Rowan.Yes.OhmyGod.”Sheclenchesaroundmycock,herorgasmrippingthroughher,andinseconds,myballstightenandaferalgroanfliesoutofmymouth.I’mcomingrightalongwithher.
“Mother.?.?.fucker,”Icallout,blacknesssurroundingme,nothinginmyentirelifeeverfeelingthisdamngood.
Ipumpintoherafewmoretimesbeforewebothcollapseonthebed.
Sated.
Pleasured.
Fuckingspent.
Ikissthespotbetweenhershoulderbladesandthenthebackofherneck.Sheturnsherhead,andIfindherlips.IslowlykissherforafewmoresecondsbeforeIpullawayandtakecareofmycondom.
WhenIreturntothebed,she’sworkedherwayunderthecoversandhasacornerpulleddownformetoclimbin.OnceI’msituated,she’slikeamagnettometal,quicklypressingherselftomysideandrestingherhandonmychest.
Igentlyrunmyhandthroughherhairandlistentothelightrainthat’sstartedtopelttheroof.
“Ilovetherain,”shesaysquietly.“Wedon’tgetmuchofitoutinCalifornia,butwhenwedo,Ialwaysmakesuretoopenawindow,sitback,andjustlisten.IfeelspoiledthatIgettohearitallthetimehere.”
“Forawhile,Ihatedrainstorms,becauseofCallum.Theyjustremindedmeofhim,butnowI’mstartingtothinkofthemasmoreofamomenttoconnectwithmybrother.Torememberthegoodtimes.”
“Tellmeoneofthem.”
Smiling,Igiveitsomethought,reachingbackintomyRolodexofmemories.“Dahatesbeingstartled.Hefreaksouteverytimeandalwayssays,‘Gettae!What’reyedoin’?’”Shechucklesalongwithme.“So,CallumandIusedtotrytocomeupwithdifferentwaystostartlehimandrecordit.ThisonetimeCallumthoughtitwouldbegeniustohideinthefridge.”
“What?Howdidhedothat?”
“Mawalwayswaitstillwe’realmostoutoffoodbeforeshegoesshopping,soitwastheperfectmoment.ShewasoutatthemarketinKyle.Dawaswatchingrugbyandknewhehadafewbeersleftinthefridge.Weremovedalltheshelves,andCallumsnuckinwhenheheardDacomingtogetabeer.IwasactingasifIwaslookingforasnackinoneofthecupboards,butsecretlyIwasrecording.Daopenedthefridge,andCallumpoppedout.HescaredthelivingdaylightsoutofDa,whowassostartledhepunchedCallumdeadintheface.Notonpurpose,justoutofapuregutreactiontofendoffwhathesaidatthetimewasthe‘feckin’LochNessMonster.’”
“OhmyGod,”Bonnielaughsatmyside.“That’samazing.”
“Itwas.Mawcamehometoapeevedhusband,asonwhocouldn’tstoplaughing,andanothersonwithablackeye.Thatwastheendofthescaring,atleastforafewweeks,untilCallumthoughtpoppingaballoonnearDa’searwasthenext-greatestidea.”
“Wasit?”
Ishakemyhead.“Itwasn’t.CallumfoundoutquicklythatDa’sreflexeswereevensharperinsuchcloseproximity.”
“Anotherblackeye?”
“Aye.”Ichuckle,revelingintherealizationthatIcantalkaboutmybrotherwithBonnieandnotfeelpain—justhappiness.“Fromthenonout,itwasalwaysdistancescares.”
“Smartboys.”Shesighs.“I’manonlychild.Dakotaistoo,andIthinkit’swhywe’resoclose—wetrulyonlyhadeachothergrowingup.Shehasalwaysbeenmyperson,throughthickandthin.”
“Icanseethat.Youtwohaveawonderfulrelationship.”
“Wedo.”Ikissthetopofherhead,andquietlyshesays,“Rowan?”
“Hmm?”
“Youmakemehappy.”
Isigh.“Youmakemehappytoo,lass.”CHAPTERSIXTEEN
BONNIE
PerfectdateI’llneverforget:One.
HowmanytimesIfeltcherishedlastnight:Toomanytocount.
Male-inducedorgasms:Five.
HotScotwho’smakingmefallforhim:One.
Rowanwasinsatiable.Hewantedme,everychancehegot.Andfrankly,IthinkIwantedhimmore.Also,listeningtohimcomeisreallyfreakinghot.There’saslightaccentinhiscomenoise:it’ssexgold.
“Whatdoyouthink?ShouldIhangthisonehere?”
Dakotaglancesupfromhercomputer.“Itlookstoobigforthespace.”
“Yeah,maybe.”
Iglancedownatalltheblack-and-whitephotosIhadprintedandframedofthelocalhairycoos.Thursday,RowanandIwentforawalkontheHairyCooFootpathandtookabunchofpicturesofthelong-hairedcows.Lotsofclose-upsshowingofftheiradorablesnoutsandsoulfuleyes.DakotatheneditedandcroppedthemandsentthemtoaguyinKylewhoprintsandframespiecesfortheirgallery.Rowanwassupposedtogowithmetopickthemup,butShonawashavingaplumbingissueattheMillMarket.IinsistedIwouldbefinedrivingonmyown.
Iwas.?.?.okay.
Ihatedeverysecondofit,butatleastIgotthepictures,andtheyaresofreakinggood.
“Okay,whataboutthis?”Dakotaasksmenow,turninghercomputerinmydirection.
Thelogo.
AndGod,it’sadorable.Deadcenterisanoutlinedpictureofahairycoo,allshaggyhairandcurvinghorns,andarounditinacircleisthenameofthecoffeehouse—theHairyCooCoffeeCompany.
“Dakota,thisis.?.?.amazing.”Isquatdownlowertogetabetterlook.“Thiswouldbeperfectonmugsandshirts.OhmyGod,mynipplesjustgothardbecauseI’msoexcited.”
“Youreallylikeit?”
“Iloveit.”
“ThinkFinellaandStuartwill?”
“Willtheywhat?”Rowanasks,steppingintotheshop,armsfullofgroceries.Ihaven’tseenhimsincethismorning.Itwasafewhoursago,andyetitfeelslikedays.Whenwemakeeyecontact,hewinks,andInearlyflingmybodyathimandmaulhisface.
“Willtheylikethelogo?”Dakotasays,completelyoblivioustomyurges.
Rowansetsthegroceriesdownonthecounterandwalksovertothenewtableswebought—whichlookpositivelyamazinginthespace,bytheway—andbendsdowntotakeagoodlook.Asmallsmilestartstoformonhislips,andwhenhestandsup,hepossessivelypresseshishandtothenapeofmyneck.“They’regoingtoabsolutelyloveit.”
“You’renotjustsayingthat?”Dakotaasks,eyesglintingwithexcitement.
“Idon’tbullshit.IalwaysmeanwhatIsay.”
“That’strue,”Iadd.“It’sperfect,Dakota.”
“Thankyou.Okay,I’mgoingtosendthefiletotheguyoverinInvernessandthengrabthesignagewiththeespressomachine.”Shestands.“I’llseeyoutomorrowafternoon.”
“Wait,what?”Iask,confused.
“IslaandIarestayinginInverness.Theprinterneedstimeforthemenusandthesign.Wedecidedtostaythenightandsightseeabit.”
“Oh.”Iswallowdownapangofdisappointment.“You’regoingsightseeing—thatshouldbefun.”
“I’mreallyexcited,especiallysincewehaven’tbeenabletoseemuchofScotland.”Sheleansin,givesmeahug,andthentakesoffoutthedoor,computertuckedunderherarm.“Bye.”
“Areyouallright?”Rowanasksasthedoorswingsshut.
“Huh?Ohyeah,fine.”IclearmythroatandactlikeI’mstudyingthepictures,wheninreality,Ifeel.?.?.sad.WeweresupposedtoexploreInvernesstogether.Wejokedaboutfindingtherentalcarguyagainandtryingtoseeifwecouldunderstandhimbetternowthatwe’vebeeninScotlandforawhile.WealsowantedtovisitInvernessCastle,andtherewereafewrestaurantswewantedtotry.Isshegoingtodothosethingswithoutme?
“Youdon’tseemfine.”Rowantakesmyshouldersandgentlyturnsmetowardhim.“Youseemreallyupset,actually.”
“It’snothing,”Isay,lookingouttowardthefrontwindow,whereIseeIslameetupwithDakota.Theyexchangeaquickkissonthelipsbeforelinkingtheirhandstogetherandheadingtowardthecottage.
“Hey.”RowanmovesmyheadsoImeethiseyes.“Ifitwasnothing,youwouldn’tlooklikeyou’reabouttocry.”
“I’mnotabouttocry,Ijust.?.?.IthoughtDakotaandIweregoingtoexploreInvernesstogether,that’sall.”
“Och.”Henods.“Isee.”Helooksback.“Gowiththem,then.Wecanbakeanotherday.”
Ishakemyhead.“No,clearlytheyhavesomeromantictripplanned.I’mnotabouttobethethirdwheel.”
“Isla’sprettyunderstanding.Ifyouwerehonestwiththem,I’msureshe’dwelcomeyoualong.”
Ishakemyheadandleanintohisembraceashisstrongarmswrapmeup.“No,that’sokay.Dakotawasmostlikelylookingforwardtothistrip.I’llgetoverit.”
Hekissesthetopofmyheadandgivesmeasqueeze.“Iknowitwon’tbethesameasgoingwithyourbestfriend,butIcantakeyousometime,ifyou’dlike.”
Smiling,Ilookupathimandkisshisjaw.“I’dlikethat.”
“Okay,oncethebutterisspread—wait,no,justtwo-thirds,sticktothisside,”Rowansays,hisvoicepatientandcalmdespitemyanxiouslytryingtopredictwhatwedonext.Andit’snotonpurposeeither.ForsomereasonIfeelflustered,likeIneedtoimpresshimorsomething.
Beforewestartedbaking,Rowantookmeovertothebakeshop,whereElsbeth,Isla’sassistant,wasfillinginforher.Weorderedsomechickencurrypies,grabbedsomefruitanddrinksfromtheMillMarket,andhadaquaintlunchinfrontoftheloch,whereRowanregaledmewithstoryafterstoryofhimandtheMurdachtwinsgettingintotrouble.Andfunnilyenough,asRowanwastellingthosestories,theyranbyus,shirtless,wearingtheirkiltsandhoistinglogs,withtheir“cameraman,”alocalboynamedDennis,followingcloselybehind.
Oncewepackedup,weheadedintothe“wee”kitcheninthebackofthecoffeeshop.Itmightbesmall,buttherearemultipleovens,whichisexactlywhatweneedforourthreetypesofbakedgoods.
Whilehespreadoutthegroceries,Iwhippedopenanapronandthenreachedforthehemofmyshirt.Aspromised,Iwasreadytobakeinthenude,buthequicklyheldmyhandsdownandsaidhelovedtheideaofmenaked,butnotwhenanyonecouldwalkin,especiallywiththewayFerguscomesinandoutofhisownaccord.Rowanclaimedthatbeingcaughtnakedinfrontofahistoricallysignificantgoatwouldreadalittleweird.Ihadtoagreewithhim.Fergusfeelslikeabrotheratthispoint,andI’dneverwantmybrothertocatchmeinthebuff.So,theclothesstayedon.
“Youdon’tspreaditalloverthedough?”Iasknow,staringdownatthebuttercombinationgracingmylatestattemptatbutteries.
“No.Justthissection.Thenwe’llfoldthedoughthreetimes,rollitbackouttotheoriginalstartingsize,andletitcoolforfortyminutes.”
“Youletitcool?”Alightbulbgoesoninmyhead.“Oh,Iwasn’tdoingthatwhenItriedtomakethem.Iwouldjustgointofoldingandrollingagain.That’swhyitwasmelting,huh?”
Henods.“Aye,youhavetoletthebuttercoolbeforeyoustartworkingitagain.”
“Sothen,thesetakeforevertomake.”
“Butthey’reworthit,andifyoutimeitright,youcanhavemultiplebatchesgoingatthesametime,alongwithotheritemslikethetattiescones.Youcouldalsomakethedoughthedaybeforeandbaketheminthemorning.That’swhatmydawoulddo.Whenthingsstartedtogetslowtowardtheendoftheworkday,he’dalwaysgetthedoughready.”
“Oh,that’sareallygoodidea.”
Togetherwerolloutthedoughandthensetittothesidetocool—asfarawayfromtheovensaspossible.
“Let’sstartonthetattiescones.”Hepullsoutalargecanofpremademashedpotatoes,andIgaspoutloud.
“Youusepremademashedpotatoes?”
Hechuckles.“Oldfamilysecret.Youcan’ttellthedifference,anditcutsdowntheworksignificantly.”
“Wow,theMacGregorclan,cuttingcorners.Ikindoflikeit.”
“You’lllikeitalot,becausetherecipecallsforapoundofmashedpotatoes,andIdoubtyou’regoingtowanttopeel,chop,andboilmultiplebatchesofpotatoeseveryday.”
“Ididn’teventhinkaboutthat.”
Hegivesmeachastepeckonmycheek.“Stickwithme,lass—I’llshowyouallthetricks.”
Hesetsouteverythingwe’llneedforthetattiescones,andeventhoughIknowhe’sbeenweirdaboutit,Istillcan’thelpthequestionthatfliespastmylips.“Whyareyousoreluctantaboutbakingforthecoffeeshop?”
“Iknewyouweregoingtoaskthattoday.”Hecheckstherecipeagain.“Surprisedittookyouthislong.”
“Youdon’thavetoanswermeifyoudon’twantto.Iwasjustcurious.Youseemtobesogoodatit.”
“Iam.Growingup,wealwayshelpedinthekitchen.ButCallumhadapassionforit.HehadplanstogrowthecoffeeshopwithDa,possiblyexpandoverintoKyle.Thebutteriesweretheirbreadandbutter—nopunintended.Notmanypeoplewilltakethetimetomakethem,butalotofpeoplewantthem.”
“Icanseethat.”
Turningaround,Rowanfoldshisarmsoverhischestandleansagainstthecounter,hiseyeslookingtowardtheopenwindowthat’slettinginanice,coolbreeze.“Growingup,itwasclearIwasn’tsetonworkinginthecoffeeshop.Iwanted.?.?.otherthings.Dawasn’thappyaboutthat,butheaccepteditbecausehehadCallum.TheyweremuchcloserthanI’veeverbeenwithmeda.ButthedayCallumdiedwastheworstdayofmylife,andnotjustbecauseIlostmybrother.Ialsolostmyfather.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”Iask,steppinginclosetohimandplacingmyhandsonhisfoldedarms.
“Ourrelationshipwasalreadyabit.?.?.strained,butthenheblamedmeforwhathappened.BlamedmeforCallumdrinking,fornotbeingcautious,forusbeingabunchofeejits.”
“Butitwasn’tyourfault—youcouldn’thavepredictedwhatwasgoingtohappen.”
“Hedidn’tseeitthatway.I’mtheolderson,theprotector,andthatday,Ididn’tprotectmybrother.Itcausedahugeriftinthefamily.Dawasbroken,andworkingintheshopeveryday—withoutCallum—justaboutkilledhim.Slowly,hisspiritstartedtofall,hiswillingnesstotrynewthingsvanished,andhestucktosimplethings,becausesimplewasallhisheartcouldhandle.Finally,bythetimehewasreadytoretire,hewouldonlyservebutteries,andmainlytothelocals.”Hereachesoutandpushesastrandofmyhairoutofmyfaceandbehindmyear.“ItoldDaI’dhelphim.ThatIwouldmakeituptohim,helphimbake,makeCallum’sdreamsareality.”
Hechokesup,andmyheartnearlybreaks.Irunmyhanduptohischestandpressmypalmtohisheart,lettinghimknowI’mhere.
“Dadidn’twantmyhelp.Saidheneverwantedtoseemeinthiskitchenagain.Iwastheonewhodidn’twantapartofthislife,soIdidn’tgettohaveit.AndwhenIsetouttofindmyownpath,heshutthatdowntoo,saidIneededtostaycloseforMawandtakecareofthetown.Corsekellythrivesoffitsown,andlosingtwoMacGregorboyscouldbreakit.So.?.?.Istayed.”
“Oh,Rowan.”Iholdbackthetearsthatthreatentofall.“I’msosorry.”
Thismanhassacrificedalotinhislife.Fromtheoutside,itwouldn’tlookthatway—he’dlooklikejustanothergrouchycurmudgeonwithsomethingagainstout-of-towners,butpeelbackthelayersandyou’llfindabeautifulsoul,withanequallybeautifulheart,wantingtohelp.He’sjuststrugglingtodoso.
“So,whychange?Ifyou’renotallowedinthekitchen,whynow?”
Thecornerofhisliptiltsup.“Well,thisstunningblondewalkedintomylifeandbeggedme.”Hesmoothshisthumbovermycheek.“IalsosawtheworryinMaw’seyesbeforetheyleft.She’snotthetypetodosomethingsoextreme,liketrytomakeanadvertgoviral.She’salwaysbeenthequietoneandspeaksupwhenthetimeisright.SomethingmustbegoingonforhertohavebroughtyouandDakotain.”Helooksofftotheside,aclenchtohisjaw.“Somethingisgoingonwiththem,andthey’renottellingme.SoIfigured,ifthey’renotgoingtotellme,thenatleastIcanhelpyoumaketheirlife’sworkintosomethingmore.Restrictionsbedamned.”
Itakeasecondandmovemyfingeruptohisjaw,whereIturnhishead.“You’reagoodman,RowanMacGregor,”Isay,gazingintohiseyes.
“Itmeansalottohearyousaythat,lass.”
“Ibelieveitwholeheartedly.”Irollupontomytoes,gripthebackofhisneck,andbringhismouthtomine.IlingerlongerthanIshould,especiallysincewehavealotofbakingtodo,butIwanthimtoknowhowimportantheis,howwonderfulheis.
WhenIpullaway,helazilysmiles.“Ihopeyoudon’tplanondoingthatalot—I’mnotsurewe’regoingtogetmuchaccomplishedifyoudo.”
Ichuckle.“Iwantmorecherrycake,andsinceyousavedthatforlast,Ithinkwebothknowtherewillbenomorekissing.”
“Notnomore,”hesays,loopinghisarmsaroundmywaistandpullingmeinsoIcan’tescape.
“Minimal.”
Hekissesthetipofmynose.“Icanagreetominimal,aslongasyoucomeovertonight.”
“AsifIwouldbeanywhereelse.”
Onemorekissandhereleasesme.“Okay,tattiescones,let’sgettoit.”
“Hey.”Iplacemyhandonhisarm.“Thankyouforsharingwithme.Itmeansalotthatyoutrustmewiththispartofyourlife.”
“Youmakeiteasy,lass.”
Weturnbacktotheingredients,andheshowsmethenextstepsinpreparingthedough—buttheentiretime,allIcanthinkaboutishowmuchCorsekellyisstartingtofeellikehome,howthismanmakesmefeelmorespecial,moreimportant,thananypersonI’veevermet,andbeinghere,inthekitchen,withsomethingtodo,Ifeel.?.?.purpose.
MaybethisiswhatIwasmeanttodo.WhereIwasmeanttobeallalong.
“I’mnervous,”Isay,wringingmyhandstogetheraswewaitforafewselectlocalstoarrive.
“Don’tbenervous,lass.”
Wespenttheentiredaybaking.I’mexhausted,butI’minvigoratedaswell.Rowanwasverypleasedwithhoweverythingwaslooking,especiallythebutteries,andnowwe’reholdingasmalltastingpartyforafewclosepeoplewhoknowthekindofqualityStuartwouldprovidewithhisbakedgoods.
Ihaven’ttastedanythingyet—Iwantedtotastewitheveryoneelse.Ididn’ttrustmyselftojudgeifmybakingactuallyisanygood.Rowandecidedtowaitwithmeaswell.
Also,betweenyouandme,Iwastoodamnnervous.Thepossibilityoffailurehangsoverme,readytoraindownonmelikeabrilliantScottishstorm,andI’mtryingtoprolongthings,hopingandprayingthecloudswillpartandthesuccessofthesunwillshinethrough.
Weinvitedfourpeople:theMurdachtwins,ShonafromtheMillMarket,andHamish,allofwhomwereavidpatronsandbutteryeatersbeforeStuartretired.
Rowanglancesdownatmyfidgetingfingersandkissesthesideofmyhead.“Relax.”
“Youdidn’tprepthem,didyou?They’renotgoingtobenice,justtobenice,right?”
“Trustme,theywouldneverdothat.They’reallexcitedaboutthechangesbeingmade,buttheyweremostworriedaboutthebaking.Ifyou’rebringingthecoffeeshopbacktolife,theywantitdoneright.”
“Oh,nottoaddanypressure.?.?.”
Hechuckles.“Lass,Iwastheretheentiretimeyoubaked,andIknowyoufollowedeverydirectioncarefully.Thisisgoingtogoreallywell.”
“Ihopeso.”Ilookoutthewindow,wonderingwhenthey’regoingtogethere.“IjustkindofwishDakotawashere.Shewassupposedtobe.”
“Didyoutellheraboutthetasting?”
“Yeah.Iassumedshewouldbeheretosupportme.”
“Maybesheforgot.”Becauseshe’swrappedupinIsla.?.?.
“Sheprobablydid.”Whichdoesn’tmakemefeelanybetter.IfinallyfindsomethingthatImightbegoodat—mightbeingthekeywordatthispoint;we’llfindoutsoonifI’mnot—andshe’snothere.Sheknowshowimportantthisistome.Ievensentheratextawhileagowithpicturesofallmybakedgoods,butIhaven’theardbackfromher.
Idon’twanttoadmititbecauseIthinkImightbeactinglikeadramaticteenager,butI’mstartingtofeelalittlebitter.
Iknow,Iknow,she’sfreshinarelationship—Ishouldcuthersomeslack.
Deepbreath,Bonnie.
Youdon’tneedyourbestfriendforeverything.
Atleast,that’swhatI’mtryingtoconvincemyselfof.
“Heretheycome,”Rowansays.“They’regoingtoloveit.”
LeithandLachlanwalkinfirstandimmediatelystopatthethresholdoftheshop.LeithpresseshishandtoLachlan’schest.“Holyshite,itsmellsgoodinhere.”
LachlansniffsaroundandthengraspsLeith’shand.“Hell,Iwasjustbroughtbacktosecondaryschool,whenweusedtosneakinhereandstealbutterieswithRowan.”
“Toldyou,lass,”RowanwhisperstomebeforeturningtoLeithandLachlan.“Takeaseat,lads.”
HamishandShonawalkinnext,andsincetheyhaven’tseenthechangeswe’vemadetotheshop,Igiddilywatchtheaweintheireyesastheytakeitallin.
“Wow,”Shonasays,“itlooksgreatinhere.”
“Thankyou,”Isay,steppingupnexttothem.“Wehavesomepicturesofthehairycoowestillneedtohang,andRowanstillneedstoinstalltheinsideshuttersthatmatchtheoutsideones.Andheneedstomakesomeshelvingformerchandise,butthat’slast.”
“It’squitelovely,”Hamishsays,takingaseatandrunninghishandoverthenewtables.“ArethesefromCampbell’s?”
“Aye,”Rowansays.“Heletusdosomemix-matching.”
Shonatakesaseataswell.“Iloveit.Och,darling,FinellaandStuartaregoingtolovethesechanges.”
PridesurgesthroughmeasRowanplacesaplateofourbakedgoodsinfrontofeveryone,aswellasasmallcupofteaandasmallcupofcoffee.
“Bonniemadeclassicbutteries,tattiescones,andthencherrycake.Onthetablethereisjamandbutter,andtheteaandcoffee,whicheveryouprefer.”
“Wehopetoofferfivevarietiesofteaandtendifferentcoffeedrinks,”Iadd.“Wedon’twanttodomorethanthat.We’llkeepitsimple,butwithalittlebitofflair.”
“Goodchoices,”Hamishsays,lookingoverthelittlemock-upmenuwehaveoneachtableaswell.“Thesewillworkwellforthetouristscominginandout.Now,you’rejuststickingwiththesethreebakedgoods?”
Inod.“Yes,wefigurediftheywantmoretheycangotothebakeshop.Wealsodidn’twanttosteponIsla’stoes.”
“Aye,”Hamishsays.
“Digin,”Rowansaysashetakesmyhandandsitsmedownatoneoftheothertables,facingawayfromeveryone.“Timetotastetest,lass.”Hehandsmeaplate,andIgazedownatallthehardworkIputintotoday.NeverinamillionyearswouldIhavethoughtI’dbelivinginScotland,bakingtraditionaltreatswithahunkyScotsman,buthereIam,livingoutthewildestdreamIneverknewIhad.
I’mabouttopickupmybutterywhenalong,loudmoaneruptsfrombehindme.IturnaroundtoseeLeithslouchedinhischair,butteryinonehand,hiseyesnearlyrollingtothebackofhishead.“SweetJesus,theseareoutstanding.”Hetakesanotherbite.“GodblessAmericaandBonnie.”
IchucklejustasLachlanhasthesamereaction.“Hell’sbells,thesearephenomenal.”Hetakesahugebite,nearlystuffingitallinhismouth.
ThenervesIwasfeelingquicklyvanishaspleasedsoundsfillthecoffeeshop.Rowanwinksatmeandtakesabiteofhisbuttery.Ashechews,asmileplaysathislips.
“Bonnie,thesearereallyfuckinggood.”
“Yeah?”
Heslowlynods.“Aye.They’reperfect,lass.”
They’reperfect,lass.Idon’tbelieveanythingI’veeverdonehasbeenperfect.I’veneverfoundthatsomethingthathasmademespecial.I’veneveruncoveredahiddentalentthatsetmeapartfromeveryoneelse.NeveroncehaveIexceededexpectations.I’vebeenaverage.Averagemyentirelife.
ButtohearRowansaysomethingIcreatedisperfect?
Itbringstearstomyeyes.Forthefirsttimeinmyadultlife,Iactuallyfeelaccomplished.IfeellikeI’mcontributingtosomethingbiggerthanmyself,andI’mnotjustrunningerrandsandmakingsurethereisacertainkindofcandyinsomeone’sdressingroom.I’mactuallyprovidingaservicewithmyveryownhands—anditmakespeoplehappy.
Andeventhoughthismomentfeelsmonumentaltome,onepersonismissing,andIwantherapprovalmorethananything.IwishshecouldhaveseenLeith’sandLachlan’sreactions,couldhaveheardShona’skindwords.
Mybestfriend’s—theoneopinionItrulycareabout.
Imighthavedoneagoodjob,butitfeelsbittersweet.
“Bonnie,youokay?”Rowanasks.“Youhaven’ttakenabiteyet.”
“Oh,yeah.?.?.fine.”ItrytopushbackmythoughtsofmyflounderingrelationshipwithDakotaandenjoythismoment.Iliftupthebutteryandsmile.“Heregoesnothing.”
Iglanceattheclockonemoretime.
Nineatnight.
Wherethehellarethey?
ItoldRowanIwantedtospendsometimewithDakotawhenshegothomefromInverness,soIskippedoutongoingtohisplace,eventhoughIdesperatelywantedto.Aftertheemotionaldrainofyesterday’stasting,webothsnuggledintohisbedlastnight,andmostoftoday,justholdingeachother.ButnowthatI’mwaitingforDakotatoshowup,frustrationwashesoverme—frustrationthatcouldeasilybefixedbywhatRowanhidesunderhiskilt.Isaythatwithouteverhavingseenhiminakilt.Trustme,though,Ihavehadfantasiesofit.
Tappingmyfingeronthetable,Istandfromoneoftheredcouchesandstarttopacethequaintlivingspace.
I’mwearingoneofRowan’sshirts,andIcanstillsmellhiscologneonthefabric,thesubtlescentoccasionallycalmingmyboilinganger.
Well,I’mnotboiling—justsimmeringatthispoint.
Lightsflashdownthedriveway,andIquicklyruntothedoorandlookoutthewindow.Isla’scarmovesdownthegravel,andbecauseI’vereachedaborderlinepsychoticlevelof“Ismyfrienddeadorisshebeingrudeandnotlettingmeknowherwhereabouts?”Iflingthedooropenandstandonthethreshold.
Islaturnsoffthecar,andthelightsfadeintothedarkeningevening.Dakotaopensthepassengerdoorandsays,“Bonnie,iseverythingokay?”
Now,becalm.Shemighthaveagoodexplanationastowhyshesaidshewouldbehomearounddinnertimeandthenshowsuparoundbedtime.
Therecouldbeaveryreasonableexplanation.Whateveryoudo,donotsnapather—thatwillputheronthedefensive.
“Wherethehellhaveyoubeen?”Iask,handsonmyhips.
Goodjob,Bonnie.
ShefrownsandshutsthedoortothecarasIslacomesaroundwithDakota’sbag
“I’ll,uh,leaveyoutwoalone.”IslatiltsDakota’sfacetowardherandplacesahandonherhipbeforeleaninginandpressingakisstoherlips.LiketheangryvoyeurIam,Istandthere,staringattheirsweetgoodbye,notevenbotheringtolookawayandgivethemprivacy.Whentheystepapart,IhearIslamurmur,“Thankyouforlastnight.”
Thensheturnstomeandwaves.“Haveagoodnight,Bonnie.”
“Yeah,youtoo,”Isayawkwardlyasangerboilsinsideme.WhenIturntolookatmyfriend,thesameangerismirroredinherasshestalkstowardthecottage,baginhand.Shedoesn’tevenwaitformetomove,bumpingmyshoulderassheenters.
Ishutthedoorbehindmeandsliponmymetaphoricalboxinggloves.
ButDakotadoesn’tsayanything.Instead,shegoesstraighttoherroom.
“Uh,caretotalktome?”Icallout.
“No.”
Sheshutsherbedroomdoor.
Whythehellisshemad?
Shedoesn’tgettobemad.
I’mthemadonerightnow.
Stormingtowardherdoor,Iflingitopentofindhertextingonherphone,mostlikelytoIslaaboutherpsychobestfriend.
“Wherehaveyoubeen?”Ifeellikethemotherofateenagerrightnow,demandinganswers,andfromtheannoyedlookIgetfromher,Ireallyamfeelingtheteenagevibes.
“WithIsla.”
Duh.
“Yousaidyouweregoingtobeherebydinnertime.”
“Yeah,well,westoppedsomewhereandhaddinner.”
“Youcouldhavetoldme.”
“Why?You’renotmymother.”
“Uh,excuseme?”Isay,nearlyblownoverbyherattitude.“Firstofall,whereisthissasscomingfrom?Secondofall,pardonmeforcaringifyou’redeadoralive.”
Dakotaflingsherarmtotheside.“Thatwasembarrassingbackthere,andyoumadeIslauncomfortable.”
“Iwasworried.”
“Worriedaboutwhat?Yourespressomachineandsignage?Don’tworry,wedroppeditoffattheshop.Youcangocheckifyouwant.”
“What?Areyouserious?Dakota,Iwasworriedaboutyou.”
“Soisthatwhyyoukepttextingmealldayyesterdayandtodayaboutthesignbutneverthoughttoaskhowourtripwas?”
Shestands,grabsherbag,andpushespastme.
“Whereareyougoing?”
“Isla’s.”
“Thehellyouare.”Ichargetowardthedoorandstandinfrontofit,barringherescape.“We’restilltalking,andI’llhaveyouknow,Ididn’taskaboutyourtripbecauseIwashurt.”
“Hurt?Aboutwhat?”
“WeweresupposedtogotoInvernesstogether.”
Dakotaopenshermouthandthenclosesit.Thetensioninhershouldersdrops.“Ithoughtthatwasajoke.”
“Youmighthavethoughtitwas,butIthoughtweweregoingtosightseetogether.”
“Wedid.WewentthroughtheHighlands.”
“Aportion,butthereissomuchmoreofScotland,andInvernessisadaytrip.”
“Ididn’tknow,”shesayscalmly,thesteamquicklyfading.“Islawasexcitedtoshowmearound,andIdidn’twanttosayno.Iwasthrilledsheevenaskedme,youknow,sinceIsabellaneverwantedtotakemeanywhere.I’msorry,Bonnie.”
Twowords,that’sallittakes.Twowordstobreakmedownintoabubblingmess
Tearswellupinmyeyes.
Throatconstricts.
AndthenI’mapileofemotions,sittingonthefloor.
Dakotasitsnexttomeandwrapsherarmaroundmyshoulder.“Hey,Ididn’tknowitmeantthatmuchtoyou.Ireallyamsorry.”
“It’snotthat.”ItakeadeepbreathandconsidertellingherhowI’vebeenfeelinglately.
Leftout.
Forgotten.
LikeI’mlosingmybestfriendtosomeoneelse.
LikeI’mnolongerneededorimportanttomyperson.
Butinthegrandschemeofthings,itseemssojuvenileandnotsomethingthatneedstodragdownthismoment.Dakotaisherenow,andwehavealittlemoretimebeforewetrulyhavetogotobed.Weshouldmakethemostofit.
“Then,whatisit?”
“Stressed,”Ianswer.“I’vejustbeenreallystressedlately,andnotknowingwhereyouwereonlyaddedtothat.I’msorryifIembarrassedyou.”
“No,you’reright,Ishouldhavetexted.Itwasjustagoodday,andIgotlostinthemoment.ButIdon’twanttotalkaboutthat.”Shepullsmetomyfeet.“DidyousleepoveratRowan’sagain?”
Ismile.“Idid.”
“Mmm-hmm.”Dakotawiggleshereyebrowslikeadork.
“I’mgoingtobreakthenewstoyourightnow—anytimeI’moveratRowan’s,youcancountonushavingsex.Noneedtowiggleyoureyebrows.”
Shechucklesandthenyawns.“Figuredasmuch.Hey,I’msupertiredfromthelasttwodays.IthinkI’mgoingtoheadtobed,okay?”
“Oh.?.?.okay,sure,”Isay,alittlecaughtoffguard.
“Wastheresomethingyouwantedtotalktomeabout?”Dakotaasks,sensingmyhesitancy.
“No,Ijustthoughtwecouldcatchup,butIgetit.”Ifakeyawn.“Longdayoverheretoo.”
“Bonnie,wecancatchuptomorrow,attheshop.”
“True.Doye.”Iplayfullyhitmyforehead,knowingfordamncertainthatI’veneversaidtheworddoyeoutloudinmyentirelife.“Okay,then.IguessI’llcatchyouontheflippity-flop.”
Dakota’seyesnarrow.“You’rebeingweird.”
“Toomuchsugar.YouknowhowIget.”Itwirlmyfingernexttomyear.“Crazy.Anyhoo.”Ipatmystomachforsomereasonandthenjabmythumbtowardthestairs.“GuessI’llbeonmyway.”
“Oh-kay,”shedragsout,watchingmemoonwalktothestairs.“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
WhenIreachmybedroom,Iflingmyselfontomybedandstareupattheceiling.Whatthehellwasthat?
Forcertain,itwasthemostawkwardinteractionI’veeverhadwithDakota,evenworsethanthetimeIthoughtIgotmyperiodwhenwewereplayinginherbackyardandshehadn’tgottenhersyet,soIknewshewouldn’tunderstandtheseverityofnotbeingprepared.Whatjusthappenedwaswayworsethanthat.
Withasigh,Irolltomysideandpickupmyphonetosetanalarmformymorninghairycoowalk.That’swhenIcatchatextfromRowan.
Iquicklyopenit,readytoclingtoanythingthatmightpossiblytakeawaythisheavybuildupthat’ssittingonmylungslikeaten-tonweight.
Rowan:Hopeyou’rehavingfunwithDakota.WantedtoquicklysayIwasveryimpressedwithyouyesterday.Proudtocallyoumegirl.Night,lass.
Ipressmylipstogetherastheytremble.Asingletearfallsdownthesideofmyface.
HowdidheknowIneededthattextmorethananythingrightnow?
Throughblurredvision,Itexthimback.
Bonnie:Thankyou,Rowan,thatmeansalot.Mustbethatone-sixteenthScottishinmethatmakesmesuchagoodbaker,huh?
Hetextsbackrightaway.
Rowan:Sorrytobreakittoyou,lass.Onesixteenthisbarelyablipinthegenepool.
Bonnie:Don’tyoubelittlemyheritage.
Rowan:Notbelittling,justhelpingyouunderstand,yourone-sixteenthhasnothingonthisonehundredpercenter.
Bonnie:IfyouwereonehundredpercentScottish,thenIwouldhaveseenyouinakiltalready.
Rowan:Allingoodtime,lass.Goodnight.Wishyouwerehere.
Bonnie:WishIwastheretoo.Goodnight,Rowan.
Iclutchmyphonetomychestandstareupattheceilingasalongsighflowsoutofmylungs.OhGod.?.?.Iliketheman.Alot.
Ilikehowhecaresforme.
Howheteasesme.
Howhe’sprotectiveandcansensewhensomethingisbotheringme.
Ilikehissmileandhisdeepvoicethatrattlesmetomyverycorewhenhewhispersinmyear.
Ilikethathe’sproudofme.?.?.
Ilike.?.?.ohGod.?.?.IthinkIlovehim.
“Bonnie,hey,waitup.”
IturntofindIslajogginguptomejustasIstepontotheHairyCooFootpath.It’searly,thefogstillliftingoffthegrassasthesunbarelypeeksoverthehorizon.Ihadahardtimefallingasleeplastnightandwoundupwakingearly,mymindwhirringoverallthechangesinmylife.
Rowan.
Thecoffeeshop.
Dakota.
It’sweighingheavilyonme.
“Goodmorning,Isla,”Isay,slowingdownsoshecancatchup.
“Morningtoye.Areyouopentohavingawalkingpartner?”
“Sure,”Ianswer,rightbeforegivingherahughello.
Together,wewalkdownthepathandaroundthebendwhereIransmackintoashirtlessRowan,thoughhe’sabsentfromthisgo-around.Unfortunately.Wouldn’tmindanothersweatystonewalltothefacerightaboutnow,especiallyafternotseeinghimlastnight.
“SorryaboutgettingDakotabacklate.IfIknewyouwereworried,Iwouldhaveneversuggestedwegooutforabite.”
“Oh,noneedtoapologize.It’sfine,”Isayasthebackofmyneckheatsupwithembarrassment.“I’msorryifIwasrudetoyou.”
Shechuckles.“Lookatus,apologizingforsomethingsosmall.”
“Typicalladies,”Ijoke.
“Idowanttomakesureyoulikeme,though,becauseIreallylikeDakota.”
Shocked,Iturntowardherandstopherwithahandtoherarm.“Isla,Idolikeyou.HaveIgivenoffthevibethatIdon’t?”
“No,notreally.Imean,maybealittle,andwhenIaskedDakotaaboutit,shesaidyou’vejustbeenbusy—butIwasn’tsureifthatwasacover-up.”
Confrontation—withsomeoneotherthanDakota—isnotsomethingI’mcomfortablewith.WhenitcomestomyfriendshipwithDakota,Icantellheranything,talktoheraboutanything,andtrulyexpressmyfeelings.Butwithanyoneelse,IjustturnintoanapologeticmessandtrytosmooththingsoverquicklysoIcanbedonewiththeawkwardtornadothatjustblewinandblewout.
“Itwasn’tacover-up.”Westartwalkingagain.“I’vebeenstressedandmaybe.?.?.alittlejealousofthetwoofyou.IknowthatsoundsstupidandIshouldn’tbejealous.IwastheoneencouragingDakotatostartdatingagain,butIjustfeltherpullingaway,anditmademealittlecrazy.Ifthatmakessense.”
“Aye,Iunderstand.Youtwohavesuchastrongbond.”
“Yes,andafterthingsendedwithIsabella,IhadDakotaalltomyselfagain,andIsoakedthatup.IsabellatookalotofDakotatimeawayfromme,anditwaspainful.MaybeIwashavingsomeflashbacks,Idon’tknow.Eitherway,Ireallydolikeyou,Isla.Ithinkyou’relovelyandsweet,andIknowyourintentionsarehonest.Plus,Rowanhasnothingbutthebesttosayaboutyou.HeoncetoldmeifIshouldtrustmybestfriendwithanyone,itshouldbeyou.”
“Thankyou.IthinkveryhighlyofRowanmyself.Youtwoaretheperfectbalanceforeachother.”
“Wecandriveeachothermadatthedropofahat,butwealsomakeeachotherveryhappy.”
“Andthat’swhatmatters.”Wepassthefirstcattlepasture,butunluckilyforus,thecuteshaggybeastsaretoofarawaytotrytopet,sowekeepwalking.“CanIaskyousomething?”
“Sure,anything,”Ianswer.
“Isabella.?.?.whatdidshedotoDakota?Ihadalotoffunthispastweekend,butIfeltDakotashuttingdownonmeatsomepoints,especiallywhenitcametogoingtobed.Shewasverystiff.Iendedupholdinghertotrytogethertorelax,andonceshedid,wewereabletohavea.?.?.er.?.?.areallygoodevening.”
“Whenyousay‘reallygood,’doyoumeanyoutwogotfrisky?”Ilaugh,andsodoesIsla.
“Imean,Idon’tkissandtell.”
“Butyousuredoblushwhenyoumentionit.”
“DamntheseScottishcheeks.”Shepressesherhandstoherredface.
“Sparemethedetails,butifwe’rebeingserious,yeah,IsabelladidanumberonDakota.It’stakenherayeartogetbackintodating.”
“Whatdidshedo?”
“Whatdidn’tshedo?”Iask,rollingmyeyes.“ShewasDakota’sfirstgirlfriendever,whichisarevelationonitsown,butpairthatwithsomeonewhoisvindictiveandmanipulative,andyouhavearecipefordisaster.DakotastartedtoequatehergaynesstoeverythingIsabelladidn’tlikeabouther.SoshethoughtifshedressedinawaythatIsabelladidn’tlike,shewasn’tbeingaproperlesbian.Ifshedidn’tkissacertainway,talkacertainway,publiclydisplayheraffectionacertainway,thatitwasallwrong.”
“Och,that’sawful.”
“Itwasreallybad.Dakotafeltbrokenforaverylongtime.Shewouldsecond-guessherself,wonderifshewasactuallygayorifitwasIsabella.Shewascompletelymind-fucked.”
“Well,thatwouldexplainwhysheapologizesorsecond-guesseseverymoveshemakesandeverythingshesays.Whenwekissedforthefirsttime,shepulledawayandapologizedrightbeforeshetriedtofleethescene.IhadtoreassureherIdesperatelywantedhertokissme.AndIfeellikeIdothatmoreoftenthannot.”
“Reassureher?”
“Aye,”Islasighs.“I’mnotirritatedwithhavingtotellherhowbeautifulsheisortalentedorthoughtful.It’sthatIwishshesawitherself,yeken?”
“Iknowexactlywhatyou’retalkingabout,andIthinkitwillallcomeintime.Sheneedstobewiththerightperson,andonceshestartsseeingthevalueinherself,itwillshinethrough.Trustme,Dakotacan’tbeknockeddownforthatlong.She’sstrongwilledandhasalwaysbeenboundanddeterminedtomakesomethingofherself.Keepworkingonher,don’tletherapologizeforsomethingsheshouldn’tbeapologizingfor,andshowherwhatit’sliketobeinahealthy,normalrelationship.”
“That’sreallygoodadvice.Thankye,Bonnie.”
“Ofcourse.Alwaysfeelfreetocometomewithquestions.I’mtheDakotawhisperer.”
“I’llholdyoutothat.”Shebumpsmyshoulder,andeventhoughIhaven’tspokentoDakotayettoday,deepdownIfeeljustalittlebitclosertoheraftertalkingtoIsla.
See,Bonnie,everythingisgoingtobeokay.CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
ROWAN
DayssinceIrealizedI’mfallingforBonnie:One.
HoursspentthinkingaboutBonnie:Everysinglegoddamnhour.
I’mtoast.
Roasted.
Charredandserved.
Bonniehasplantedherselfinmyheadspace,andnothingcanremoveher.
Nothing.
“You’regorgeous,”IsayasBonniesinksdownonmylengthuntilshebottomsout.
Theminuteshegottomyplace,shestrippeddown,pushedmeintomybedroom,andrelievedmeofmyclothes.ShethenspentagoodtenminutesworshippingmybodyuntilIcouldn’ttakeitanymore.Shesheathedmewithacondomandisnowslowlyrockingupanddownmyshaft.
“Imissedyou,”shesays,lookingdownatme,herhairlikeagoldencurtainpushedtotheside.“IsitdesperatethatImissedyou?”
Ichuckleandgripherhips,tryingtoenticehertopickupthepace,butinsteadshedrawsitoutsomemore.“Nay,lass.Imissedyoutoo.”
“Missedme,ormissedsex?”
“Missedyoumore,butIdidmissthiswithyou.”
Shesmirks.“Goodanswer.”Herhandsfalltomytorsoanddraguptomypecs,whereshegripsandshiftsherbody,givingusadifferentangle.Itmustreallyworkforher,becausehermouthfallsopenandalowmoaneruptsfromher.
“Justlikethat,”Isay,pushingmypelvisupintoher.“Fuck,youfeelperfect.”
Shegripsmycheekandpresseshermouthtomine,beggingforentrancewithhertongue.Idon’tgiveitatfirst—instead,Iletherliveoffclosedbutpowerfulkisses.Shedoeseverythingshecantopryopenmymouth,evenbitemybottomlip,butIholdstillasmyhandstraveldownherbackandgripherass.Ispreadhercheeksandpushupintoherhardandfast.Hermouthpopsoffmine,andshecriesoutinpleasure.
“Yes,Rowan.Yes,pleasedon’tstop.”Sheliftsup,onehandplantedagainstmychest,theotherpushingherhairbackashertitsbouncerightinfrontofme.?.?.
Hell.
“Bonnie,”Ichokeout.“Lass,youthere?”
Hereyessqueezeshut,herhipsmovefaster,andIfeelherstarttoclencharoundmycockinstantaneously.“Oh.?.?.fuck,”shewhispersasherteethpullonherbottomlipandshecomes.
Thefeelofhertightwarmth,wrappedaroundme,doesmein.Myballstighten,pleasureripsthrougheverylimb,andmycockswellsinsideofherasIcomeharderthanIcaneverremember.
Together,wepulseouteverylastounceofpleasureuntilwearecompletelyspent.
AfterIcleanusbothup,Ileanagainsttheheadboardandpullherclose.Shesighsagainstme,andIdon’tthinkI’veeverbeenthisfuckinghappyinmyentirelife.
“I’mhungry,”shesaysasIplaywithherhair.
“Wantsomecake?”
Sheliftsupandlooksmeintheeyes.“Youhavecake?”
“Imadesomeearliertoday.Sinceyouwerecomingover.”
“IfIdidn’tjusthavesexwithyou,IwouldbejumpingonthatScottishsausageofyours.”
“Eloquent.”Ireachoverthebedandtossmyshirtather.“PutthatonsoIdon’thavetostareatyourgorgeousbodyallnight.”
“Whatatravesty.”
Ithrowonapairofathleticshortsandthenheadtothekitchen,whereItakedowntwoofmyhand-thrownplatesthatIfiredupinthekilntheotherday.TheycameoutjustthewayIwanted,theglazeabeautifulmixtureofbluesandgreenstorepresentthegreenoftheHighlandsandtheblueofthelochs.Mygoalistohandmakeallmyplatesandservingware,butwithhowlittlefreetimeIhave,it’sbeentakingmelongerthanI’vewanted.
Nottomention,IwasinacreativedroughtbeforeBonnieshowedup.Now,it’sasifthepotter’swheelisinmyhead,constantlyturningwithnewideas,techniquesIwanttotry.Justneedtofindmoretime.
Fromthefridge,ItakeoutthechocolatecakewithchocolatefrostingImadeearlierandcuttwolargeslices.Iknowmygirl,andshe’snotshyaboutherportionsofcake.Mightaswellgivehertheamountshe’sactuallygoingtoeatsoshedoesn’thavetoaskforanotherhelping.
WhenIturnaround,Ifindhercurleduponthesofa,hairpiledontopofherhead,lookingfresh,withalittlebitofbeardburnonhercheeks.
Iwalkovertoheranddragmyfingeroverherreddenedcheek.“Doesthishurt?”
Sheshakesherhead.“No,Ilikeknowingyou’veclaimedme.”
Smiling,Ileandownandlifthertoasittingposition.“Good,becauseyou’remine.”Ipressaquickkisstoherlipsandthenheadtothekitchen,whereIgrabourplates.
“Whyareyousoamazing?”sheaskswhenIhandhertheplate.“Didyoumakethisfromscratch?”
“Howelsedoyoumakeacake?”
Shetakesabiteandmoans.“God,that’ssogood.SomuchbetterthanwhenImakeacakefromabox.”
“Medawouldhaveacoronaryifyouevergavehimaboxedcake.”
“Scottishsnobs,”shescoffswithagrin.“So,IwasthinkingaboutputtingthemenusupthisFriday,aftermakingafewmorebatchesofthebutteriesandscones.SeehowtheFridayandSaturdaytourbusesreact,thenassessandmakeadjustmentsforMonday.Whatdoyouthink?”
“Doyoufeelcomfortablewiththeespressomachine?”
Shenods,hermouthfullofcake.Whensheswallows,shesays,“IspentayearusingthisexactmachinewhenIworkedwithLisa.Shepreferredacertaincoffeebeancombination,freshlyground,andthenmadeonthespot.Igotexceptionallygoodatsomeprettyfancydrinks.Caramelmacchiatos,americanos,andcappuccinosweremygo-tos.IwasnervoustocometothisjobbecauseIdidn’tknowthekindofexperienceneeded,butwhenIsawtheextentofdrinkchoicesintheshop,Iknewmyskillsweremorethanadequate.I’mcomfortablemakingwhatwehaveonthemenu,andIcannailthosedrinks.”
“Andbaking,howdoyoufeelabouttakingonthatpartofthejob?”
“Good.Iwanttostockupalittlethisweekonthebutteriesandstorethemlikeyoutoldme.I’llsavethefreshonesforthelocals—”
“Smart.”
“Wanttokeepthemonmygoodside.Idon’tthinkthecakewillgoasfastastheothertwo,butwe’llsee.I’llhaveafewofthosereadytocutintoslices.Iorderedrecyclabletakeoutcontainers.EventhoughtheStyrofoamwascheaper,Icouldn’tsavetheextrapennyknowingthekindofwastetheyare.”
“Mawwouldbehappywiththatchoice,especiallysincewealwaysfinddiscardedtakeawaycontainerswheneverwegoonHighlandwalks.Probablythrowntherebytourists.”
“Idon’tunderstandhowsomeonecandothat.Justtosstrashintothewildasifit’stheirownpersonaldumpster.”
“Meneither,butyoucan’tfixeveryone.Wecanonlydoourbest,andmakingconsciousdecisionslikethathelps.”
“Why,McGrumpyshire,areyouanearthlover?”
“WhenyouliveinaplacelikeCorsekelly,howcouldyounotbe?”
“True.”Shesinksherforkintothecakeandpicksupanotherbite.“So,youthinkFriday,atinygrandopening?”
“Aye.Ithinkthat’sagreatidea.”
“Great.I’llalsoemailthetourbuscompaniesaboutourchanges.”
“Well,I’llbefirstinlinewhenyouopenup.”
“Yeah?”Sheleansoverandpressesachocolateykisstomylips.“You’llreallyshowup?”
“Aye.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.You’remygirl,aren’tyou?”Iask.
“Youtellme.?.?.amI?”sheaskscoyly.
Ileanoverthistimeandcupherchin.“Youknowyouare.”
“Soo,doesgirlmean‘girlfriend’inScottish?Areyougoingtointroducemelikethis.?.?.”SheclearsherthroatandimpersonatesaterribleScottishaccent.“Aye,yebawbag,’tisheremelass.Sheownsmeboaby.”
Idon’tanswerrightaway.Instead,Ijuststareather,andshewiltsundermygaze,fidgeting,tryingtosmile,tryingeverythingtoavoideyecontact.
Finallysheasks,“Canyounotstareatmelikethat?Itmakesmehorny.”
“What?”Iask,laughing.
“Aha!Brokethesilence.”Shesnapsherfingersinvictory.“Knewthatwasgoingtowork.”
Shakingmyhead,Ileanbackinmychairandstareathersomemore.Fuckingcrazy,unpredictablewoman,buteveninallherunpredictability,sheexcitesme.
“Question,”shesays,mouthfull.“Whenyourparentsgetback,doyouthinkyou’regoingtohaveaconversationwiththem?”
Ifeelmybrowsdrawtogether.“Talktothemaboutwhat?”
“Thewhole‘notdoingwhatyouwanttodowithyourlife’thing.Itjustseemedlikeyouhadfuninthekitchenwithme.Wasn’tsureifyouwouldcrossthatbridgewithyourparentsagain.”
“No.”Ikeepmyanswershortandconcise,hopingshe’llmoveonfromthetopic.
“Rowan,youcan’tpossiblywalkaroundhereunhappyfortherestofyourlife.”
“I’mnotunhappy.”
“Couldhavefooledme,”shemumbles,avoidingeyecontact.
“HowthehellamInothappy?Youmakemehappy,Bonnie.”
Thatgrantsmeasmile,butwhenshereachesovertotakemyhandinhers,Iknowit’snotenough.“IknowalostsoulwhenIseeone.Werecognizeourselvesinothers.You’relost,Rowan.”
“Wherethehellisthisallcomingfrom?”Talkaboutthenightmakingafuckingone-eighty.
Sex.
Cake.
NowaseriousconversationabouthowI’mnotlivingmylife?
Colormefuckingconfused.
“Idon’tknow—youseemedsohappybakingwithme.”
“BecauseIwaswithyou,”Isay.
“Then,whatisitthatwillmakeyouhappy?”
Islidemyemptyplatetotheside.“Endingthisconversation.”
“Whywon’tyoutellmewhatitisyouwanttodoinlife?”
“Whydoesitmatter?It’snevergoingtofuckinghappen,sothere’snousetalkingaboutit.”Ipushoutofmychairandgrabmyplate,settingitinthesinkbeforestridingbacktomybedroom.Then,sinkingdownontheedgeofthebed,Ipushmyhandsthroughmyhair.Annoyed,frustrated,wishingshe’dneverbroughtthistopicuptobeginwith.
Itdoesn’ttakehermuchtimetofollowme,andwhensheenterstheroom,sheclimbsuponthebed,dropstheshirtshewaswearingonthefloor,andpressesherbodyagainstmyback.Herhandsfloattomyfront,andshekissesmyshoulderblades.
“I’msorry,”shewhispers.“Ididn’tmeantomakeyouupset.”
Hell,Ishouldn’thavesnappedather.There’snoexcuse.I’mjustnotreadytosharethatpartofmylife,notwhenshe’sstrivingtosucceedatsomething.Idon’twanthertoseemyfailureandthinkwhatshe’sdoingisn’tpossible
“Justdropit,okay?”
“Okay,”shesays,smoothingherhandsdowntomystomach.Sheslipsahandunderthewaistbandofmyshortsandgripsmetightly.
Fuck.
Fromthatonetouch,I’mhard.
Shescootsawayfrommybackandlaysmedownonthebed.“Pushyourshortsdownforme.”
Desperatetoforgetthoselastfewminutes,Idojustthatandfreemyself,lettingmyerectionspringforward.
Andthenshestraddlesme,sittingonmychestandleaningforwardtotakemeintohermouth.Herbottomhalfisinperfectreach,andIbringhertomymouth,whereIquicklyfindherclitandstartkissingher,lickingher,lettingherknowthatevenwhenIsnapather,Iwantherjustthesame.
“Stayforbreakfast,”Isay,tuggingonBonnie’sarm.
“YousaidIwasbreakfast,”shecounters,brushingthewettanglesoutofherhair.“Orwereyoulyingjusttogetintheshowerwithme?”
“Iwaslying,”Iadmit,feelinghungryforheragain.
“Can’tfaultaguyforbeinghonest,evenafterthefact.What’sforbreakfast?”
“Yogurtparfaits.”
“Really?”sheasks,eyebrowsrising.
“What’swrongwiththat?”
“Nothing.Justsurprised,Iguess.Areyougoingtolayerthefruit?”
“That’swhataparfaitis,isn’tit?”Istandfromthebedandgentlypatheronthearseonthewayouttothekitchen.
“Whatkindofyogurt?”
“Vanilla,”Icalloutjustasmyphoneringsinmyjeanspocket.Ipullitoutandseemymaw’snameflashacrossthescreen.“Hello?”
“Rowan,goodmorning.”
“Goodmorning,Maw,”Isay,alreadyonedgefromthewearytoneinhervoice.“Everythingokay?”
Bonniecomesintotheroom,lookingconcerned.
“Ihaveyourdaherewithme.Sayhello,Stuart.”
“Hello,”myda’sgruffvoicesoundsthroughthephone.
“Morning,Da.”
“Doyouhaveamomenttochat?”Mawasks.“Weneedtotalktoyouaboutsomethingimportant.”
“Er,somethingimportant,”Isay,glancingatBonnie.Shemotionstothedoor,andIshakemyhead.“Holdon,Maw.”Iputthephoneonmuteandsay,“Canyougivemeafewminutes?Don’tleave.Thiswon’ttakelong.”
“Sure,I’llgoforaquickwalkandbeback.I’mgoingtoneedtoseethoseyogurtparfaitskills.”
Iwink.“Yougotit.”Sheslipshersandalsonandthenletsherselfoutofthecottage.Takingthephoneoffmute,Isay,“Okay,sorryaboutthat.Isthisaboutsomeoftheexpensesonthecreditcardfortheshop?”Ihadaweefeelingtheymightquestionthose.MawencouragedDakotaandBonnietomakesomechangesiftheysawfit,butIcanunderstandifthey’reconcerned.
“Nay,”Mawsays.“It’saboutyourda.”
Thehairsonthebackofmyneckrise,andItakeaseatatmydiningtable.Silencefallsontheotherendofthelineaswell,andanuncertainfeelingofimpendingbadnewscreepsintomystomach.
“Everythingokay,Da?”Iask,swallowinghard.
“Wehatetodothisoverthephone,butwewon’tseeyouinpersonforafewmoremonths,andwe’vebeentoldyouneedtoknow.”
Myhandsstarttoshake,mylungstighten,andthatuncertainfeelingturnsintopurefear.“What’swrong?”
There’sapregnantpause,andtheonlythingIcanhearismyownheartbeat,poundingdesperatelyforgoodnewsbutknowingthat’snotgoingtobethecase.
“Yourda’ssick,Rowan.”
Fuck.
Iknewsomethingwasgoingon.Ifuckingknewit.
Myhandgoestomyhair,andIpullontheshortstrands.“Howsick?”
“Itstartedafewmonthsago,rightbeforeheretiredfromthecoffeeshop.Hewasn’tfeelinghimself,andweassumeditwashisarthritiskickingin,makingdailytasksaroundtheshopharder.Wehaveplentysavedforretirement,sowefigureditwouldbeokay—thatwas,untilwewenttothedoctor.Weweredevastatedtofindouthe,er.?.?.hehasbonecancer.”
“What?”Iwhisper,myheartpoundingsohardIthinkforamomentthatImisheardher.“Bonecancer?”
“Aye,”Mawconfirms.“Tobetruthful,wearen’treallyonholibagsrightnow.We’reinLondon,talkingwithaspecialistandgoingthroughtreatments.”
Whatthefuckingshite?
“Whythefuckdidn’tyoutellme?”
“Watchyourtone,”Dasays,andeventhoughhisvoiceisweakened,itstillpacksaheavypunch.
“Wedidn’twanttoworryyou,”Mawspeaksup.“Weweren’tquitesureabouttheseverityofyourda’scancer.Wethoughtthatifweshieldedyoufromthetruth,maybewewouldn’thavetoworryyouatall.WeheardDr.?Irvinewasverygoodatcomingupwithatreatmentplan,butweknewhewasexpensive,sinceit’saprivatetreatment.That’swhyIrantheadvertforthecoffeeshop,hopefullytocreatesomefunbuzz,hiretwostrangerswhomightwanttotakeonaproject,bringitbacktolifesothere’ssomethingtosupportuswhenwegetbacktoCorsekelly.”
“JesusChrist,”Imutter.
“Butthingshaven’tgoneaswe’dhopedhere.Yourdahasquiteafewtumors.Dr.?Irvinetookbiopsiesofallofthem,andsomearetreatable,butthere’soneonhishipthatisquitelargeandhasspreadtootherpartsofhisbody.Dr.?Irvine.?.?.he.?.?.”Maw’svoicebreaks.
Herquietweepingchokesmeupasmymindwhirlswithconfusion.
“I’mdying,”Dafinishesforherassheletsoutasob.
Dying.
Myheartshattersintoamillionpieces.
Bonecancer.
Tumors.
Dying.
Ican’tseemtowrapmyheadaroundtheactualfacts;allIcanfocusoniswhyI’mjustfindingoutaboutthisnow.
“Youshouldhavetoldmesooner,”Ichokeout.
“Itwasn’tyourrighttoknow.Weknewwhatweweredoing,”Dasays,andthatsetsthesparkthatlightstheragingfireinsideme.
“Tohellit’snot!”Ishout,standingnow.“You’remygoddamnfather,andit’snotonlymyrightbutmyresponsibilitytoknowwhenyou’resick,whenyouneedhelp.?.?.whenyou’refuckingdying!”IroarintothephoneaseveryemotionI’veeverhadaboutmydabubblesupandpoursoutofme.
“Rowan,”Dasnaps,butIdon’tcare—Ikeeppushingforward.
“You’veknownyou’vehadcancerforthepastfewmonthsanddidn’ttellme.WhenIaskedyouifyouweresickbeforeyouleft,youliedtomyface.”
“Wedidn’twanttoworryyou,”Mawrepeats,alwaystryingtoplaythepeacemaker.Well,whichisit?Ididn’tdeservetoknow,ortheydidn’twanttoworryme?It’salwayslikethiswiththem—MawtryingtosmooththingsoverwhileDaandIlightuptheroomwithouranger.
“EvercaretothinkthatIcouldhavehelpedyou?That’swhatfamilyisfor.Andifyouneededhelpwiththecoffeeshop,Maw,Icouldhavehelped.I’vealreadybeenhelping—”
“Youmadeitquiteclearyouwantednothingtodowiththeshop,”Dasays,thestubbornarseholethrowingthatinmyfaceonceagain.
“Peoplechange,”Isaywithaclenchedjaw.“Butyou’retoostubborntoseethat.Youcan’tpossiblylookpastthehistorythatclogsyourweebrainandseethatpeoplechange.Peopletrytomaketheirlivesbetter,tomakesomethingofthemselves.”
“How’sthatgoingforyou?”Daasks.“Haven’tseenthatpotteryforsaleanywhere.Haven’tseenyouliveoutthedreamyouwanted,thatyouthrewyourfamilyawayfor.”
What?
Wherethehelldidthatcomefrom?
“Ididn’tthrowyouaway,”Isay,knowingweshouldn’tbehavingthisconversationrightnow.Dahascancer,arealizationI’msurehe’shavingahardtimeaccepting.Andknowinghim,he’stwistingandturningthatconfusionandfearintoanger.HedidthesamethingwhenCallumpassed—hedirectedallhisangeratme.“I’mstillhere,takingcareofthetown’sbusinesslikeyouwantedmeto.Isn’tthatenough?”
“NotwhenyoudisrespecttheMacGregorclan.Wemightbesimple,butwe’regoodpeople.”
“YouthinkIdon’tknowthat?”
“Youdon’tshowit.”
JesusfuckingChrist.Idon’tthinkI’vebeenthisangryinmyentirelife.Itfeelslikemysoulisphysicallybeingstolenfrommybodywitheverypassingbreath,replacedwithadarknessthat’sspreadingthrougheverylimb,everymuscle,everygoddamnbone.
Noneofthismatters—noneofthehistorybetweenmydaandmemattersrightnow,notwhenhe’sdying.Hemightwanttocontinueourage-oldargument,butIdon’thavetimeforthat.
“Whereareyou?”
“Rowan,youdon’tneed—”
“IsweartoGod,ifyoudon’ttellme,I’lltrackyoudown.Icanlookatyourcreditcardstatements.Icanfigureitout,somakeiteasyonbothofusandtellmewherethefuckyouare.”
MawrattlesoffanaddressthatIwritedownonapieceofpaper.Shetellsmetheystillhaveanotherconversationwiththedoctorandnottoworry,butitdoesn’tmatter.Nothingtheysaywillmatteratthispoint.Mymindismadeup.
“Wedon’tneedyoutocomehere,”Dabarksintothephone.
“Seemslikeyou’dratherdiethanadmitit,butyouneedmemorethanyouthink.”
Ihangupandtossmyphoneonthetable.MyknucklesturnwhiteasIgripmydiningtable,andbeforeIcanevenregisterwhatI’mdoing,Ipickitupandchuckitagainstthewall.WoodsplintersfromthecrashasIroar,“Fuck!”andthendigmyhandsthroughmyhair.
He’sdying.
Mydaisdyingand—
Mygazestraystothewindow,andInarrowmyeyes.Thedoorstomypotteryshedarewideopen,andIcatchalockofblondehairfloatingoutoftheentrance.
Whattheactualfuck?
Furyblazesinsideme.IcanfeelmyfaceturnredasIragethroughthecottage,flingthedooropen,andstomptotheopenshed.
Sureenough,Bonnieisstandinginside,holdinguparecentlyfiredmug.
“Whatthehellareyoudoinginhere?”
Afrightenedyelpescapesherlipsasshejumps.Themugslipsfromherhandsandshatterstotheground.
Sheturnstowardme,andthosecrystaleyeswiden,feigninginnocence.“Yousee—”
“Don’tfuckinglietome,Bonnie.”Shegoesquiet,hershoulderssagging.Icouldseeitbeforesheevenstartedtalking:thetelltalesignofhercomingupwithsomeelaborateexplanationforinvadingmyprivacy.
“Well.?.?.??”Ipress,foldingmyarmsovermychest.
“Honestly”—shefidgets—“Iwantedtoseeifthiswaswhereyoukeptyourpowerwasher.IthoughtmaybeIwouldstealitandcleansomeofthealgaeoffthecottage.But,ohmyGod,Rowan,you’reapotter.Howcomeyoudidn’t—?”
“Youhadnorightcominginhere!”Iyell,pointingattheshed.
Herbodyshiftsbackwardfromthepowerofmyvoice,andhereyesgrowwider,morefrightened.“Ididn’t.?.?.”Sheswallowshard.“Ididn’tthinkitwasabigdeal.I’msorry,butRowan,you’rereallygood.Youcouldsellthis—”
“Out.”
“Rowan,please,letme—”
“Isaid,fuckingout!”Iscream,mychestvibrating,myhandsshaking,emotionssurgingthroughme.Abreakdownisimminent.
Bonniestartlesandhurriesoutoftheshed.Onceshe’soutside,Islamthedoorsshutandthenspinonher.“Don’tfuckinggointhere,doyouhearme?”
Shenods,tearsbrimminginhereyes.
“I.?.?.I’msorry.”
WhenIseethetearsrolldownhercheek,aweevoiceinthebackofmyheadtellsmeIneedtoapologize,butit’squicklydrownedoutbytheuncontrollableragethat’spiercingthroughme.
Fuck.
Bonnie.?.?.I’m.?.?.I’msorry.
Thethoughtsringthroughmyhead,butmymouthcan’tseemtoformthewords.
“Rowan,pleasesaysomething,”shebegs,herbeautifuleyespleading,butawaveofnumbnessfallsoverme.Bonnie’sdistraught,andit’smyfault,butIcan’tfinditwithinmetocare.
Turningaway,Istridebacktothecottageandfleetomyroombeforeslammingthedoorshut.
Sinkingontomybed,IburymyheadinmyhandsandthinkaboutwhatthehellI’mgoingtodo.
Ittakesabouttwosecondstodecide.
London.
I’mgoingtoLondon.CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
BONNIE
Brokenheart:One.
Nauseaisinfullforce.Whatthehelljusthappened?
I’veseenRowangrumpy.
I’veevenseenhimangry.
ButI’veneverseenhimlikethat.
Itwasasifacompletelydifferentpersontookoverhisbodyandlashedout.
Afterhestormedbackinside,IstoodinfrontoftheshedforafewmomentsuntilIfoundenoughcouragetogobacktothecottage,butwhenIentered,hewaslockedinhisroom.Hismessagewasloudandclear:hedidn’twantmenearhim.Afterthat,Ididn’twasteanytimeinleaving.Igatheredmythingsandpracticallyranbacktomycottage.
Now,sittinginmyunmadebed,IwaitforDakotatogethome.
WhenIwasdeliriousandstridingbacktothecottage,Isentherafewpanickedtexts.WhenIgottomybedroom,afewmore.AndtwominutesagoItriedcalling,andaftertworings,thephonewenttovoicemail.
Noresponse.
NobestfriendwhenIneedherthemost.
Anxietyatanall-timehigh,Itrytosteadymybreathing,knowingIhavealottogetdonetoday.
Icandothis.Everythingwillbeokay.
God,IwishDakotawashere.
Shakily,Istandandchangemyclothes,feelinglikeIneedafreshstart.Oncemyshoesareon,Istickmyphoneinthebackpocketofmyjeanshortsandheadtothecoffeeshop,whereIfindFergusstandingbythedoor.
Trusty,dependable—
“Ahhhhhh.”
ScreamingFergus.
Atthesightofwhatseemstobemyonlyfriendthesedays,Iswallowdownafloodofemotionsandgivehimapatonthehead.“Goodmorning,Fergie.Iseeyou’reclearingthelungsoutalready.Gettingreadytostartlesometourists,Ihope.”
Withasmallbackkickofhislegs,heliftshisnoseandclopsaway.
I’mgoingtotakethatasamorninggreetingandnotasanotherpersonscreamingatme.
Makingquickworkofthelock,Iletmyselfintotheshop,fliponthelights,andtakeintheclean,white-walledspace.Wehunguptheinsideshuttersandthepictures,givingtheroomamuchmorehomeyfeeling.I’mstillwaitingoninstallingshelves,becausewehaven’tsettledonmerchandise.Beforewegoallin,wewanttomakesurethebakedgoodsandnewcoffeechoicesattractmorebusiness.
Atleast,thatwasthegeneralconsensus.NowIhavenoidea.
Imakemywayfromtabletotable,settingthechairsonthefloorandputtingoutthelittlevasesRowanbroughtintheotherday.Ipause,realizationdawningonmeasIlookdownatthevaseinmyhand.Hemadethese.Hesaidhehadthemlyingaround.Butwhathemeantwastheywerelyingaroundhisshed.
Ilookatthebottomofthevase.Nosignature,noindicationthathewastheonewhomadethem,andyetthey’repristine.Beautifullyshaped,witharedglazethataddstheperfectpopofcolorthespaceneeds.
Ishouldhaveaskedhimwheretheywerefrom.Ishouldhavecomplimentedthemmore.Thenagain,heprobablywouldn’thaveadmittedhemadethem.Isthatwhathe’sbeenhidingthiswholetime?Thelifehewantedtolivebutnevergotto?
JustasIsetthevasedown,thedoortotheshopopensandDakotastepsinside.
“Jesus,wherehaveyoubeen?”Iask,facingher.“Whydidn’tyouanswermycallsandtexts?”
Shedoesn’trespond.Instead,shecrossesherarmsoverherchest,herstancedefensive.Itenseup,myguttellingmeI’mabouttobeyelledat—again.
“Doyouhavesomethingtotellme?”
Isigh.“Listen,Dakota,Ireallyneedafriendrightnow.CanweputwhateverIdidtomakeyoumadonhold?IthinkRowanjustbrokeupwithmeand—”
“WhatdidyousaytoIsla?”
SomuchforputtingapininwhateverIdid.Nope,she’saddressingitrightnow.
“Uh,I’vesaidalotofthingstoIsla.”
“ShetoldmeshereallyappreciatedthewalkyouguystookyesterdaybecauseyoutoldherallaboutIsabella,andnowsheknowswhyI’mactingthewayI’macting.”
Oh,thewalk.
“Ididn’tsayanythingbad;IjusttoldheraboutIsabellaandhowshewasmanipulativeandvindictive.Howyouweren’tsureifyouknewhowtobeinasame-sexrelationship.Howyou’vebeenconfused.”
“Whywouldyoutellherthat?”Dakotaasks,distressinhervoice.
“SheaskedwhatIsabelladidtoyou.WhatwasIsupposedtosay?”
“Nothing.Youweresupposedtosaynothingandthentellherthat’saconversationsheshouldhavewithme.”
“Whatdoesitmatter?”Iask,mybrowfurrowed.“It’sthesameinformation,andclearlyyouweren’ttellingher.It’ssomethingsheneededtoknow.Shewasworriedaboutyou.Shesaidyouweren’tclueingherinonanything.”
“BecauseIwasn’treadytotalkaboutit!”Dakotayells.“Thisisn’teasyforme,Bonnie.I’mstillself-consciousfrommyrelationshipwithIsabella,andfindingmyauthenticselfhastakenalongtime,butI’vemadestrides.IwasjuststartingtofeellikethissoulI’veburiedforyearsisstartingtoflourish,andthenyouhadtogoanddothat.”
“Tellhertobepatientwithyou?”Iask.“Howisthathurtingthesituation?”
“Youtookmystoryawayfromme!”sheshouts.“Thatismystorytotell,notyours.Now,insteadofhercomingtoanunderstandingwithme,listeningtohowImighttalkaboutmypast,shehearditfromyou,anditchangesthenarrativeinherhead.Insteadofunderstanding.?.?.shepitiesme.”
“What?No.”Ishakemyhead.“Shedoesn’tpityyou.”
“Andyoudon’tfuckingknoweverything,”Dakotasays,withsuchvenomthatIactuallytakeastepback.I’veneverseenherthisangry.“Youweren’tthere.Youdidn’tseethewayIslalookedatme.Youhadnorighttosayanythingtoher.”
“Iwasjustbeingafriend.”
“Youhavenoideahowtobeafriend.”Herwordsslapmeacrosstheface.
“Excuseme?”Angersearsthroughme.“Idon’tknowhowtobeafriend?You’retheonewho’sneveraroundwhenIneedyou.”
“Exactly,Bonnie.Whenyouneedme.WhataboutwhenIneedyou?HaveyouevenaskedmehowthingsarewithIsla?Askedabouttheweekend?HaveyouevenremotelythoughtabouthowthisismysecondfemalerelationshipeverandwonderedifI’mdoingokay?HaveyoulistenedwhenIsaythatsomeofthethingsyousaytoIslaembarrassme?No,becauseyou’retoobusyplayingcoffeeshopandthrowingyourselfatRowan.”
“Idon’tthrowmyselfathim.”
“Okay,”shescoffs,lettingoutasarcasticlaughIdon’tlikeatall.“Hewantednothingtodowithyou,butyoukeptpressingandpressing—”
“Didhesaythattoyou?”Iask,feelingmystomachdrop.“Didhesayhewantednothingtodowithme?”
“HetoldtheMurdachtwinshewantedtostayasfarawayfromusaspossible.”
Ibitemybottomlip,tearsgatheringinmyeyesastheemotionsoftodaypileontopofme,asthefeelingofnotbeingwantedconsumesme.Atearslipsdownmycheek.
“Ididn’tknowthat,”Isaysoftly,claspingmyhandstogether.
“It’sbecauseyouneverlisten,Bonnie.You’reself-absorbed,whichisironic,sinceyoucan’tseemtofigureoutwhoyouareorwhatyouwanttodo.”
Iglanceup,thetruthinherwordsstinging.“Youencouragedmetofixthingsuparoundhere,toldmethatmaybeIcouldfindmyself—”
“Thisisnotyourlife!”Dakotashouts,flingingherarmsout.“Andyou’remakingityourlife.Youcameheretoreflect,tofigureoutwhatyou’regoodat,butinsteadyou’vejustbecomesoimmersedinaprojectthatyoulostsightofeverythingaroundyouandburiedyourselfinarelationshipatthesametime.Youhaven’tfoundoutwhoyoureallyare.”
“ButwhatifIhave?WhatifthisiswhatI’mgoodat?Everthinkaboutthat?WhatifthisiswhatIwanttodo?”Ishoutback.
“Isit?”sheasks.
Iopenmymouthtoanswer,butIhavenothing.
“Exactly,”shesays,asiftoproveherpoint.“YoucametoScotlandtoreconnectwithyourself,butyou’vejustpushedmeaway,gottenlostinaman,andfocusedonsomeoneelse’sprojectwithoutestablishingwhoyouactuallyare.”
Issheright?
HaveIgottenlostinsomethingthatisn’tme?
Iglancearoundthecoffeeshop,takinginallthesmalltouchesI’veadded,thebakedgoodsImade,thepicturesItook,andIcanhonestlyadmit.?.?.pridesurgesinmychest.
Imighthavegottenlostinsomeoneelse’sproject,butthisprojecthelpedmeseeexactlywhoIam.
Ahardworker.
Someonewhofinisheswhatshestarts.
Abaker.
Adesigner.
Anideacreator.
Aheartforasmallcommunity.
Abusinesswoman.
Imighthavegottenlost,butontheway,Ifoundmyself.
IknowIdid.
Lookinghersquareintheeyes,Isay,“You’rewrong,Dakota.Ihavefoundmyself.Maybeyou’retheonewho’stooblindtoseeit.”Istraightenup,feelingalittlestronger.“You’vealwaystreatedmelikethelesseroneinourrelationship.Thefuckup.AndI’msickofit.Ifyouopenedyoureyes,you’dseethatI’vegrownsincewe’vebeenhere.I’veputinthework,I’vereflected,andI’vegrown.Andalongtheway,yes,maybeIforgottoaskaboutyourrelationship,andI’msorryaboutthat,butI’llbedamnedifIletyousteponmygrowth.”
“I’mnotsteppingonyourgrowth,Bonnie.I’mtryingtohelpyourealize—”
“ThatI’mnottheonewithproblemsanymore?”Iask.“Maybeit’syouwhoneedstoreflectbeforeyoustartseeingsomeoneelse.Maybeyouneedtofigureoutexactlywhoyouarebeforeyoutryjumpingintoanotherrelationship.Ifyou’resoangryaboutmetalkingtoIslaaboutallthetrialsandtribulationsyou’vegonethrough,thenmaybeyouweren’treadytostartdatinginthefirstplace.Don’tblameyourinsecuritiesonme.”
“Unreal.”Sheshakesherhead,steppingaway.“Youknowwhat,maybeyoudidfindyourself,andthat’sgreat,goodforyou,Bonnie.ButIdon’tlikethenewyou.”
Myteethgrindtogether.“Why?BecauseI’mnotrollingover,likeeveryothertimewehaveaconversation?BecauseI’mactuallystickingupformyself?”
“Becauseyou’recompletelymissingthepoint.Lifeisn’talwaysaboutyou.Takeofftheblindersandrealizeyouractionshaveconsequences.”Shecrossesherarmsoverherchest.“Tellmethis—whydoyouthinkRowanbrokeupwithyou?”
Myteethrollovermybottomlipasawaveofembarrassmentwashesoverme,therealizationhittingmesquareinthechest.
“Didyoudosomethinghedidn’tlike?”shepressesastearsstarttowellupagain.
“Isnoopedinhisshed,”Ianswer,soquietlyIcanbarelyhearmyownvoice.
“Soundsaboutright.Youcrossedalineanddidsomethinghedidn’twantyoudoing.Noteveryoneislikeyou—theydon’tputtheirlivesoutondisplay.Theyliketotaketheirtime,introduceeverypartofthemselvesinduecourse.Butyou’retooself-absorbedtothinkaboutthat.It’salwayswhatyouwant,whenyouwantit.Well,guesswhat?Thatmentalityjustbityouintheass.”
She’sturnedtowalkawaywhenIcallout,“Wait,Dakota,please—let’stalkaboutthis.”
Sheshakesherhead.“I’mdonetalking.Ineedspace.”
Andthenshetakesoff,leavingmetocrumbletothefloorandsobintomyhands
Bonnie:Dakota,please,comebacktothecottagesowecantalkaboutthis.Idon’tlikefightingwithyou.
Bonnie:Wedon’tdothis;wedon’tstaymadateachother.
Bonnie:Wealwaysworkthroughthings.Pleasetellmewecanworkthroughthis.
Bonnie:Rowan,Istoppedbyyourplace,andyouweren’tthere(whichI’msureyouareawareof).Iwanttoapologize,talkthroughthis.Please.
Bonnie:Imissyou,Rowan.Idon’twanttobefighting.Thisissomethingwecanworkthrough,right?
Bonnie:I’msorryIinvadedyourspace.Pleasejusttalktome.
Someone.?.?.please,someonejusttalktome.
I’mlookingdownwhenthedoortothecoffeeshopcreaksopen.Ifreezebehindthecounter,holdingmybreath,hopingandprayingit’sRowanorDakota.ButwhenIglanceup,IfindLeithwalkingin,andallhopefails,crashingdownonceagain.
It’sbeentwodays,andIhaven’theardanythingfromeitheroneofthem.Twodaysofbakingandgettingreadyfortomorrow’sgrandopeningwhiletryingnottogetlostinmythoughts.I’mfailingmiserably,ofcourse.MymindisconstantlygoingovereveryinteractionI’vehadwithRowanandDakota.Replayingmylastconversationswiththem.
Self-absorbed.
Don’tlisten.
Toopushy.
Notagoodfriend.
Immersedinaman,notfindingmyself.
HaveIreallybeendoingthat?IsthatreallywhoIam?
It’sterrifyingtorealizethatmaybeIdocarrythoseattributes.ThatI’msodeeplyinvestedinmyselfthatIdon’tcareaboutthefeelingsandreactionsofothers.
Tosaytheleast,it’sbeenapainfulandtorturoustwodays.Especiallyatnight,whenI’maloneinthecottagewithnomorebakingtodo,nothingtodobutruminatewhileIclutchmyphonetomychest,hopingoneofthemcallsortextsmeback.
Buttherehasonlybeensilenceonbothends.
“Holdbacktheexcitementofseeingme,”Leithteases,pullingmebacktothepresent,whereIcan’tevenforceasmileathisjoke.I’mhangingonbyathread,andonelittlethingwillbreakthedamthatI’vehaphazardlybuilt.“Hey.”LeithwalksuptothecounterwhereI’mstanding.“What’swrong?”
Damnhim.
Damnthosetwowords.
That’sallittakes.
Oneblink,andthetearsI’vebeenholdingbackcrestovermylidsandcascadedownmycheeks.
Iburymyfaceinmyhands.“I’msorry.”
“Shh,don’tapologize,”hesays,comingaroundthecounterandputtinghisarmaroundme.Iturnintohischestandwelcomehiswarmbutslightlyunfamiliarembrace.I’mdesperateforanythingatthispoint,though.Ihaven’thadanyonetoturnto.MyparentsandIaren’texactlyongreatterms,andIdon’tknowifweeverwillbe.It’ssadtosay,butbesidesDakota,Ireallydon’thaveanyoneelsetoappealto,andthat’sterrifying.
“What’sgoingon?”Leithasks.
Iwipeatmytearsandpullaway.“Justafewstressfuldays.”
“DoesthishavetodowithyouandDakota?”
Ilookupathiminsurprise.“Youknowaboutthat?”
“Islaspokewithmeyesterday.Shesaidshewasconcernedthatyoutwowerefighting.”Hetiltsmychinup,justlikeRowanwould.“Areyouokay?”
Liptrembling,Ishakemyhead.“No,I’mnot.Everythingisfallingapart,andIdon’tknowhowtofixit.”
Takingmyhand,Leithleadsmetooneofthetablesandsitsmedown.Thenhemovesaroundthecounter,getsusbothsometeaandabutterytoshare,andthenbringsthemtothetable,wherehesitsacrossfromme.Withaknife,hesplitsthebutteryandsetshishalfonanapkin,offeringmetheplatetouse.
“What’sgoingon?”
“Youreallywanttoknow?”
Henods.“Ofcourse,lass.You’repartoftheCorsekellyfamilynow.Wehelpeachotherout.Tellmewhat’sgoingon.”
EventhoughI’matanall-timelow,I’mstillasuckerforapastry,soItakeabiteofthebuttery,savoringtherichflavorforamoment.“ItstartedwithRowan.HetookacallwhenIwasathishouse,anditseemedserious,soIgavehimsomespace.Iwaswalkingaround,andwhenIsawhisshedIthought—”
“Ohhhh.”Leithwinces.“Youwentinhisshed?”
“Iwantedtoseeifthat’swherehestoreshispowerwasher.Boy,wasIsurprised.”
“Yeah,hedoesn’tletanyoneinthere.”
“Whynot?Hispotteryisbreathtaking.Heshouldbesharingthatwiththeworld.”
“Agreed,butthat’snotsomethingheshareswithalotofpeople.It’shisstorytotell,notmine.”Leithtakesabiteofhisbuttery,andIrealize.?.?.that’swhatIshouldhavetoldIslawhensheaskedaboutDakota.Andhoweasywasthat?Simple,andIwasn’toffended.
ManohmandidIscrewup.
“Iunderstand.”
“Whatdidhesaytoyou?”
“Roaredatme.Rightfullyso.HewassoangryIcouldpracticallytastehisfuryintheair.Toldmetoleave,andwehaven’tspokensince.Thinkingbackonit,Idon’tblamehim.Iwasso.?.?.lostinmyownhead,Ididn’ttakehisfeelingsintoconsideration.I’vetriedtextinghimandcallingandevengoingtohisplace,butnothing.”
Leithscratchesthesideofhisface.“Ishouldn’tsaythis,butI’mgoingtoanyway,justsoyoudon’tloseyourmind.Hereallylikesyou.”
Ishakemyhead.“Leith,Iknowhewantednothingtodowithme.Youdon’thavetosaythingstomakemefeelbetter.”
Hesmiles.“TrustmewhenIsaythatI’veneverseenhimactthewayhedoeswhenhe’swithyou.There’ssomethingspecialbetweenyoutwo,andIwouldn’tgiveupjustyet.Hanginthere—he’llcomeround.”
“Hedidsayhewouldshowuptomorrow,nomatterwhat.MaybeIcouldapologizethen.Putmyheartoutontheline.”
“What’stomorrow?”
“I’mopeningupnewdrinksandthebakedgoodstothepublic.”Mystomachflipsatjustsayingitoutloud.“Iemailedthetourbuscompaniesthatcomethroughhere,lettingthemknowthere’sanewtakeonsomefreshScottishfoodinCorsekelly,whichtheirtouristsmightenjoyafterseeingtheBoabyStone.”
“It’sagrandopening?”heasks,lookingimpressed.
“Iguessso,yeah.”
“Congrats,lass.”Heglancesaround.“Youdidanumberonthisplace.Itwilldowell.”
“Thankyou,Leith.”
“Now.”Hereachesacrossthetableandtakesmyhand.“AboutthisDakotaandRowanbusiness—thebondsyouhavewiththem,they’reunmatchable.They’renotsomethingthatwilljustfallapartfromonerow.Givethemtime,andthey’llcomearound.RowanandIhavebeeninourfairshareoffights,andwe’vealwayscomethroughthem.Honestly,they’vemadeusstrongerbecausewe’vebeenabletounderstandeachotherbetter.”Hesqueezesmyhand.“Hanginthere,lass.Andinthemeantime,tellmemoreaboutthisheart-on-the-linething.Doyoulovemelad?”
Ifeelmycheeksflush.There’snousehidingit.“IthinkIdo,Leith.I’veneverreallylovedsomeonebefore,notromantically,butwithRowan,it’sdifferent.Hechallengesme,makesmehappy,protectsme—and,mostimportantly,hemakesmefeelspecial,likeIactuallyhavesomethingtoofferthisworld.”
“That’sbecauseyoudo.”Heholdshishandsout.“Lookwhatyoucreated.Youarefullof.?.?.potential—youjusthadtofindwheretofunnelit.”
Ithankhimbutcan’thelpbutwonder,What’sthepointofcreatingsomethingifIdon’thaveanyonetoenjoyitwith?
NerveseatawayatmeasIthinkabouttomorrow,allthehardworkI’veputintotheshop,andthepossibilityofitallfailing.Ofmefailingonceagain.
Dakota’sanger-flushedfaceflashesthroughmymind,followedbyRowan’s.
Willtheyshowuptomorrow?
Despiteourdisagreements,willtheystillshowup?CHAPTERNINETEEN
ROWAN
Notdoingit,notthisfuckingtime.
Don’tevenask.
Notaftereverythingthat’s—
Fuckingfine.?.?.
Angerlevelfrom1to10,10beingthehighest:123.
There,happy?
“Rowan,canIbehonestwithyou?”Mawasks,settingacupofteanexttomeasIstareoffattheredcurtainsdecoratedwithgolddamask.Myparents’rentedLondonflatiscertainlyposhincomparisontotheirCorsekellyhome.
I’vebeenhereforthepasttwodays,andDahasyettospeaktome.Theywenttoanappointmentyesterday,whichIwasn’tallowedtoattend,andcamebacklookingmoresullenthanbefore.Myeasyguess:itwasn’tgoodnews.
“Oh,youwanttobehonest?That’srefreshing,”Ideadpan.
Mawsighs.“IsupposeIdeservethat.”
Iplowmyhandthroughmyhair,stickingituponallends.“Whatthehellwereyouthinking,nottellingme?”Iwhisper-shoutsoDacan’thearme.“ImightnothavethebestrelationshipwithDa,butthatdoesn’tgiveyoutwotherighttokeepmeinthedarkabouthishealth.”
“Iunderstand.”Mawshiftsuncomfortably.“YouknowIloveyou,Rowan,butI’vespentthelastfewyearsofmylifetryingtomendtherelationshipbetweenyouandyourfather,attemptingtobethepeacemaker.I’mtired.I’mtiredofthebickering,ofseeingthetwomenleftinmylifegoateachothereverytimethey’reinthesameroom.It’sexhausting.”Shewipesunderhereye,andmyheartlurches.Ihateseeingmymawthisdistraught.“Iknowyouwanttobehere,butIdon’tthinkIcanhandleanymorerows.Itmightbebestifyouleave.”
“Leave?YoureallythinkI’mgoingtoleave?WhenIjustfoundoutmyda’sdying?I’mnotgoinganywhere.”
“Rowan,hedoesn’twantyouhere.Itmightputmorestressonhim.”
“Well,that’stoofuckingbad.”
Myphonebuzzesonthetable,andbeforeIcanhidethenameonthescreen,Mawcatchesit.
“IsthatBonnie?”
“Seemsso.”Istuffthephoneinmypocket.
“Youknow,Shonawastellingmeyoutwoareanitem.”
“Shonaneedstolearntomindherownbusiness.”
“Didsomethinghappen?”
“Doesn’tmatter.”Istandfrommychairandpacethelivingroom.“Whatdidthedoctorsayyesterday?”
“Rowan,thelastthingIwanttofocusonrightnowisyourfather’shealth;Iwanttoforget—”
“Youcan’tforgetit,Maw.Justlikeyoucan’tforgetaboutthefactthatCallumdied.Orthatthecoffeeshopisdying,orthatyou’respendingyoursavingslivinghere.Youcan’tjustbrushyourproblemsundertherug,hopingthey’lldisappear.Thisislife,andyouhavetofaceit.Youhavetodealwithit,whetheryouwanttoornot.That’swhyI’mhere.Eventhoughyouneglectedtotellmeanythinguntilafewdaysago,I’mherebecauseyouaremyfamily,what’sleftofit,andI’llbedamnedifI’mleftout.Idon’twanttobethegoddamnblacksheepanymore.”
“Thenyoushouldn’thavewantedtoleavethisfamilyyearsago.”Da’sweakvoicecutsthroughthelivingroom.Heshufflesin,usingacane,hisbodydeterioratingfasterthanIeverexpected.Mawquicklygoestohimandhelpshimintoachair.
Shestrokeshischeeklovingly,painevidentinhereyes.“CanIgetyouanything?”
“Water,darling.”
Mawgoestogetit,butIstopherandnodtowardthechairnexttoDaandgetthewatermyself.Theairneedstobecleared.Wecan’tgoonlikethisanymore.It’snotonlyhurtingmyrelationshipwithDa,butit’shurtingMawtoo.AndI’mseeingit.Theexhaustioninhereyes,thewearinessinhervoice.Herhusbandissick,andthat’senoughtoworryabout.
Fuck,amIreallygoingtodothis?
Iglanceovermyshouldertowheremyparentssit,holdinghands.
AlovingcoupleIgrewupwatching,admiring.There’salightsmileonmyda’slipsashelooksatMaw.Irememberwhenheusedtosmileatme.Thosedaysspentinthekitchen,whenhewasproudofwhatIcoulddooncehe’dtaughtmetheMacGregorway.
Wheredidthatallgo?
Andwhythehellhasitbeengoneforsolong?
Timetofindout.
Ibringtwoglassesofwateroverformyparentsandsetthemdownonthesidetablebetweenthem.
Oncethey’vebothtakenasip,Iclearmythroat.“Ineverwantedtoleavethefamily.Iwantedachancetoexplore,thechancetocreatesomethingofmyown,likeyoucreatedwiththecoffeeshop.”Ilookmydaintheeyes.“Itwasneveraboutthefamily,Da.Itwasaboutmetryingtoprovemyworth.”
“Yourworthwaswiththisfamily,withCorsekelly.Butweweren’tgoodenoughforyou.”
“Iwasn’tgoodenoughforyou,”Iadmit,slappingmyhandtomychest.“Iwasn’tgoodenoughforthetown.Everyonehadsomething.Callumwasthebaker—hetookafteryou,Da.LeithandLachlanwereboundanddeterminedtomakesomethingofthemselveswithpersonaltraining,andtheyhave.Islahasbuiltthebakeshoptoahugesuccess,winningawardsalloverthecountry.Myfriendsandfamilywerealldoingsomething,andIwantedtodothesame.Iwantedsomethingofmyown,somethingtomakeyouproud.”Igripmyforehead,tryingnottogetemotionaloverallthis.“AllIeverwantedwasforyoutolookatmeandmygiftthewayyoulookedatCallum,withunconditionalprideandlove.”
Hetosseshisarmupintheair.“OfcourseIloveyou.”Helooksaway,dismissingtheproclamationasquicklyashemadeit.
“Doyou?”Iask,walkinguptohimandsquattinginfrontofhim.“Doyoureallyloveme?OrdoyoustillblamemeforCallumdying?”
Helooksdownathislap,andhisshoulderssag,asifthequestionhascompletelydefeatedhim.
“I’mangryaboutCallumdying.”Helooksupandmeetsmygaze.“Icouldhavelostbothofyouthatday.”
Ileanback,blinkingasIcatchthetearsbrimminginhiseyes.
“EverytimeIthinkaboutit,Igetfurious.”Hisfisttightens,andhetensesbeforefallingintoacoughingfit.Mawplacesherhandonhisbackandoffershimhiswater.Hetakesafewsipsandthenmeetsmyeyesagain.“Hisdeathcouldhavebeenavoidedifyou’dusedyourgoddamnbrains.IfitwereyouwhoweredeadandCallumwhowasalive,Iwouldhavetreatedhimthesameway.Thechoicesyoutwomadetogetherjustaboutwreckedyourmother.Youputaholeinmyheart,andthenfilleditwithworry.Worrythatinsteadoflosingoneson,Icouldhavelosttwo.”Hepincheshisbrowandslowlyrestshisheadagainstthechair.
“Da,I.?.?.Ihadnoidea.Ithought—”
“Iknowwhatyouthought.Anditmighthavebeenmyfaultfornevercorrectingyourwayofthinking,butgoddamnit,I’mstillfuriousaboutit.AndI’llbefuriousuntilthedayIdie.Carelessbehaviorwithnothoughtforthepeoplewholoveyou.”
“Da.”Ireachupandslipmyhandinhis.Hesqueezesittightlyand,tomysurprise,bringsittohismouth,kissingthebackofmyknucklesandthenholdingthemclosetohischeek.
Heletsoutastrangledsob,andthat’sallittakes.Ibreakdownaswell,movingasclosetohimasIcan.
“Icouldhavelostbothofyou.”
“I’msorry,”Isay,bringingmyforeheadtohis.Igripthenapeofhisneckandholdhimthere,notwantingtoletgo,noteverwantingtoletgo.“I’msosorry,Da.”
“Iloveyou,Rowan.”
Iletoutasob,andtearsstreamdownmycheeks.“Iloveyoutoo,Da.”
“Here,Da.”Iplaceabowlofsoupinfrontofhimandadjustthecardiganacrosshisback,noticinghowIcanfeeleveryboneinhisshoulders.“Doyouhaveeverythingyouneed,Maw?”
Shenodsquietlyandsipsfromherbowlofsoup.
Oncethey’retakencareof,Itakeaseataswell,andquietlywealltuckin.Together.
Thelastfewhourshavebeenmentallyexhausting.Wecriedforagoodhour.
Criedoverthelossoftime.
ThelossofCallum.
Thelossofarelationshipwithmyda.
Thelossofthoselittle,boringmomentsthatmakeupalife.
Theendisnear.It’sthickintheair,chillingandheartbreaking.
Clearingmythroat,Iask,“Howmuchtimeisleft?”
Dadoesn’tlookupatme,andneitherdoesMaw.Insteadtheykeeptheireyesontheirbowls,butIwatchasmydaslowlyreachesoverandtakesMaw’shandinhis.Herlipquivers,andatearfallsintohersoupbowl.
“It’snotgood,”Dasays.
“Iwanttoknow.Don’thideitfromme.Pleasedon’thideitfrommeanymore.”
Daslowlynodsandlooksmeintheeyes.“It’sstage-fourchondrosarcoma.There’snothingtheycandoatthispoint.Theyofferedatreatmentplantoprolonglifeexpectancy.”
“Thenlet’sdothat,”Isayquickly.“Whatdoesitentail?”
Dashakeshishead.“It’snowaytolive,son.IwouldhavetostayhereinLondon,itwouldcostmorethanI’mwillingtopay,andIwouldbemiserable—forwhat?Afewmoremonths?”
“Yes,”Isay,myvoicepanicky.“Yes,Da,afewmoremonths.MonthsIhaven’thadwithyou.MonthsIneedwithyou.”
Hisweatheredeyesconnectwithmine.“Rowan,Idon’twanttobeinLondon.IwanttobeinCorsekelly,inmyhome,withtheonesIlove.Andyoucan’tstayhereeither.Thetownneedsyou.Yourmawneedsthetownforsupport.”
“But.?.?.butwhataboutthetimewe’velost?Whatabout—?”
“WhatevertimeIhaveleftisyours,Rowan.”
“Howmuchtime?”Iask,voicewavering,mythroattightening.
Hecloseshiseyes.“Amonth.?.?.maybe.”
“Amonth?”Inearlychokeonmywords.“Howlongifyoudothetreatment?”
“Three,maybe.Butit’snotapromise,andIwouldn’twanttospendtherestofmydaysinandoutofhospital,beingpumpedwithchemo.I’dratherspenditintheplaceIlove,withthepeopleIlove.”
Ileanmyforeheadintomyhandandblinkbackthefreshtearsthatthreatentofall.HowcanIpossiblylosehim?HowcanIeverforgivemyselfforlettingthisfeudgoonforsolong?Fornevertalkingtohimandlettingyearsofstubbornnessandpridefesterbetweenus?
“Rowan.”Ilookupathim.“It’sgoingtobeokay,lad.ThelifeI’vehadhasbeenbeautiful.I’mablessedman,andeventhoughourtimeisshort,Iplanonmakingthemostofit.”Hereachesformyhand.“TakemebacktoCorsekelly.Please.”
Forthesecondtimetoday,tearsstreakdownmycheeksasInod.Atthispoint,thereisnothingelseIcandobesidessoakinthemomentsIhaveleftwithhim.CHAPTERTWENTY
BONNIE
Brokenheart:One.?.?.still.
TimesI’vethrownupfromnerves:Three.
Textsandcallsthathavebeenreturned:None.
Amountofcakeeatentomaskmyfeelings:Let’sjustsayI’vehadtomakealotofcherrycakethisweek.
Todayisthebigday,andI’mnotsureifIwanttocry,smile,orgothrowupagain.
Deepbreaths.
Inthroughthenose,outthroughthemouth.
Everythingisgoingtobeokay.
Inonetwothree,outonetwothree
Tampingdownthethreateningnausea,Iglancearoundthecoffeeshoponelasttime.Oneminutetoopen,andIdon’tfeelready—despiteburyingmyheadinworkthelastfewdays.
I’vebaked,practiceddrinks,perfectedeverylastdetailwhenitcomestotheshop,andmadesuretocollectpamphletsfromeveryonearoundtownsoIcanpromoteallthespecialpointsofCorsekellytotourists.Evenwithallthat,Idon’tfeelready,andIthinkIknowwhy:Idon’thavemytworocksnexttome.
Ihaven’theardanythingfromRowanorDakota,andit’sslowlyeatingawayatme.Myonlyhopeisthattheyshowuptodayandletmeapologizeprofuselyinperson,whichwillleadtoushuggingitoutandeverythinggoingbacktonormal.
Myphonebuzzesinmypocket,andIquicklypullitouttoseethealarmIsetformyself.Openingday.
Withonemoredeepbreath,Igotothefrontdoor,reachoutmyshakyhand,andopenit.Expectingtoseeafewsmilingfaces,Iputonasmilemyselfandstepoutside,whereI’mgreetedby.?.?.noone.
Mysmilefades,andmyheartsinks.Iglancearoundandlookdownthestreet,offtowardtheHairyCooFootpath,but.?.?.nothing.Notonesoul.
Notonefriend.
Notoneboyfriend.
Absolutelynoone.
Tryingnottogetupset—Ijustopened,afterall—IplacetheOPENflaginitsholster,propthedooropencompletely,andthenstepbackintothecoffeeshop,whereItrytobusymyself.
Imovearoundthecounter,straighteningmugsforthetenthtimethismorning.ThenIchecktomakesureeverythingisstockedup,confirmthatthereareplentyofbutteries,scones,andcakeinthepastrycase.Ituckinthenapkinstobesurethey’renotcrooked.Allset,justlikeitwasahalfhourago.
Tablesareclean.
Vaseshavefreshflowers.
Drinksarereadytobemade.
There’snothingelseIcando.
Iglancedownatmyphone.Tenthirty.
Myheartsinks.
Ican’tbelievethatnotonepersonhasshownup.But,mostimportantly,Ican’tbelieveRowanandDakotaaren’there.DidIhurtthemsobadlythattheywon’tbehereforme?Aretheysoangrytheyrefusetocomesupportme?
DakotaandIhavefoughtbefore,butneveratthislevel.SheknowshowhardI’vebeenworking.Sheknowshowimportantthisistome.Isshereallynotgoingtoshowup?
Feelingdistraught,Isitdowninthechairbehindthecounterandbouncemylegsupanddown.
Pleasedon’tfail.
Pleasedon’tfail.
I’mnotsurewhatwillhappentomyself-esteemifthisdoesn’tworkout,ifIonceagainfailtopullittogethertomakesomethingofmyself.Tomakesomethingofmylife.
Timepasses.
Tenminutes.
Twenty.
Anhour.
Andnoone.
Notonetourbus.Notonecustomer.
Isinkdeeperanddeeperintomychair,tearsstreakingdownmycheeks,depressionstartingtosinkin.
Whentheclockhitsoneintheafternoon,Icrumbletothefloorandleanagainstthewall,myheartshatteringintoamillionpieces.
Notasinglesoulhascometotheshop.
Notexts.
Nophonecalls.
I’mnotsurewhathurtsmore—thatRowanandDakotanevershowedup,orthatI’vefailed.IpickatapieceoflintonmyleggingsasIconsiderit.Thereisnodoubtinmymindwhichonehurtsmore.
DakotaandRowan.
“Hello?”avoicecallsout.
Shit.
IwipeatmyfaceandstandfromthefloorasLeithwalksuptothecounter.“Hell,I’msorryittookmesolongtocomein.”Hethumbstowardthedoor.“Atourbusgotstuckinaditchjustoutsideoftown,andweallwentouttohelp.”
“We?”Iask,justasLachlancomesthroughthedoor,huffing.
“Aretherebutteriesleft?”heasksinapanic.
“Och,Fergus,outoftheway,”Shonasaysasshestepsintothecoffeehouse,followedcloselybyHamish,Alasdair,and.?.?.Isla.
“There’sstillbutteries!”Leithshoutsdowntheline.
Thelittlelinecheers,and—Godhelpme—Istartbawlinglikeababy.
Thecommunityhasshownupforme.AtleasttherearesomepeopleouttherewhoappreciatethehardworkI’veputin.
“Lass,youokay?”Leithasks.
Inodandwipeatmyeyes.“Yes,sorry.”Itakeadeepbreath.“Just.?.?.noonecamein,andIjustthought.?.?.”
“Aye,we’vebeenlegsdeepinmudallmorning.Therewasalandslidejustoutsideoftown,andatourbusgotstuck.Alltheothertourbuseshadtodivertfortheday,butwe’reallcleanedupnow,andtheroadisgoodtogo.Trustme,Iwouldhavebeenheresoonerafteryesterday’sbuttery.”Hepatshisstomach.“Wemightbepersonaltrainers,butwedon’tmindalittlebutteryonthebones.”
HewinksasLachlanslingsanarmaroundhisneck.“Andbutteriesaren’ttheonlythingswe’llshred.”
“Well,thankyou,”Isay,smilingthroughtears.“Wouldyoulikeadrinktoo?”
“Tea,please.EarlGrey.”Leithnodstooneofthetables.“GottagrabatablebeforeShonacan.”
“Och,that’sverygentlemanlyofyou,”Shonacallsout.
Theyalllaugh,andsodoIasIpreparetheirorders,whichIspendthenextfewmomentsfilling.Hamishcleanedmeoutofthetattiescones,saidhewasgoingtotakethemtothelocalswhohelpedwiththecleanup
BythetimeIslacomestothecounter,Ihavetwobutteriesleftandafewslicesofcake.Shesmileskindlyandreachesouttotakemyhand.“Youdidagreatjob,Bonnie.”
“Thankyou,”Isay,returningasadsmilewhiletheelephantintheroompracticallychokesalltheairoutofmylungs.“How’s.?.?.Dakota?”
Isla’sbrowcreases.“Whatdoyoumean,‘How’sDakota?’Ithoughtshewaswithyou.”
Panictightensmychest.“No,Ithoughtshewaswithyou.Wehadafight,andIjustassumedshewenttostaywithyouthesepastfewdays.”
Isla’seyeslookwildnowassheshakesherhead.“No,shesaidshewastakingsometimetothinkaboutthings.Ithought.?.?.Ithoughtshewaswithyou.”
“OhmyGod.”Iquicklygrabmyphoneandtrygivingheracall.Asexpected,shedoesn’tanswer.“Haveyoucalledortextedher?”
“No,Iwasgivinghersomespace.”Islapullsoutherphoneaswell.“ShouldIcallher?”
“Yes,seeifsheanswers.”PanicturnsintofearasmymindreelsbacktotheweeksafterIsabellabrokeupwithDakota.Shefellintoadeepdepression,andittookherawhiletoclimboutofit.TherewereafewnightswhenIsleptinherbedwithher,justtoletherknowIlovedher,Iwasthereforher,thatshewasworthsomuchmorethanthewayIsabellahadtreatedher.
Islagnawsonherbottomlipasthephonerings.Iholdmybreath,terrified.Icanhearhervoicemailpickup,andmystomachdrops.Islaglancesatme,wideeyed,andwhenthebeepsoundsoff,shesays,“Hiya,Dakota,it’sme.Iknowyouwantedsomespace,butI’mjustcheckingonyoutomakesureyou’reallright.Pleasecallme.”Shehangsupandshiftsinplace.“Whatdowedo?”
Iglancearoundthecoffeeshop.“Findher.”Clearingmythroat,Ifacemyveryfirstpatrons.“Hey,youguys,somethinghascomeup,andI’mgoingtoneedtoclose.”
Leithliftshishead,halfwaythrougheatinghisbuttery.“Iseverythingokay?”
“Hopefully,”Isay.“Ihatetokickyouout,especiallysinceyoushoweduptosupportme,but.?.?.doyoumind?”
“Notatall,”Shonasays,gatheringeveryoneandshovingthemoutthedoor.
Leithstaysbehind,though,andwheneveryoneisoutofearshot,heasks,“DoesthishavetodowithRowan?Wehaven’theardfromhiminafewdays,andsincehe’snotheretodayanddidn’tevenrespondtohelpwiththetourbus,Ithoughtmaybeyoutwodidn’tfigurethingsout.”
“Imean,no.?.?.but.?.?.youhaven’theardfromhim?”Iask,moreconcerngrowing.
“No,butthat’snormaltoo.Hecangetintothesemoodswherehedoesn’twanttoseeanyone.He’llsometimesgoupnorthandstayinthefamilycottageupthere.Ifyoutwohadwords,he’sprobablyupthere.”
Oh.
So.?.?.he’sjustmad.
“Okay.”Iclearmythroat.“Well,thanksforlettingmeknow.”Leithgivesmeaquicknodandheadsoutofthecoffeeshop.
Islamovestothecounterandtakesmyhand.“Wheredowestart?”
Iclutchmyphone.“FindMyPhone.We’lltrackherdown.”
IopenuptheappandquicklyclickonDakota’sname.Islaleansover,andwhentheapppinpointsher,Islanodsnexttome.“Badicaul.Iknowwheresheis.Comeon.I’lldrive.”
“DoyouwanttotalkaboutwhathappenedwithRowan?”IslasaysaswedrivetowhatseemstobeanoutlookonabeachinBadicaul,northwestofCorsekelly.WhenwespottedheronFindMyPhone,Islaexplainedthatitwasaplaceshe’dtoldDakotaaboutononeoftheirdates.Shesaidshedidn’tthinktherewasanythingdangerousthere—nocliffsoranythinglikethat—whichnoweasesmybeatingheart,slightly.NotthatIthinkDakotawouldhurtherself,butthenagain,I’mnotsurewhatkindofmentalstateshe’sinatthispoint.
Staringoutthewindow,IwatchtherollinggreenhillspassbyasIshakemyhead.“Notreally.Idon’tthinkthere’smuchtotalkabout,honestly.IalreadywentthroughallofitwithLeith.”
“DidhesayRowanwouldcomeround?”
“Prettymuch.”
“Trusthim—he’sright.”
Ichewontheinsideofmycheek,tryingtoreininmyemotions.I’movercryingatthispoint.I’veshedwaytoomanytears.
“Buthonestly,ifhedoescomearound,hasn’tthedamagealreadybeendone?”Iask,mymindracingwithdisappointment.DidIpushhimawaybybeingtoocaughtupwithmyownlifeproblems,justlikeIdidwithDakota?
“Isthedamagesobadyoucan’tworkthroughit?”
“Idon’tknow,”Iwhisperaswepulldownadirtroadandgotowardthewater’sedge.
Nervesticklemythroat,tighteningmyvocalcords.Wecurvearoundabend,andthenourMINICoopercomesintoview,followedbyDakota,sittingontheflatgroundoverlookingtheshore.She’sstaringoutatthewater,herlegspulledtoherchest.
“Theresheis,”Islasays,reliefinhervoice.
Atthesoundofthecarapproaching,Dakotalooksbehindher,andIseeherravagedeyes,bloodshotandsunken.Myhearttwistsinmychest,andbeforeIslacanstopthecar,I’munbucklingmyseatbelt.
“DoyoumindstayinginthecarsoIcantalktoherfirst?”
“Notatall,”Islaanswers,understandinginhereyes.
“Thankyou.”
Oncethecarisparked,IhopoutandheadtoDakota,whoturnsawayagain.IhavenoclueifI’mlookingatalochortheoceanatthispoint,butwhateveritis,it’spretty.
Notsayingaword,Itakeaseatnexttoherandmimicherposition,bringingmylegsintomychest.
“FindMyPhone?”sheasks,hervoicebrittle.
“Yeah.I’mgladyouwerepsychoticaboutlosingmewhenwedecidedtomovehereandforcedmetodownloadit,justincase.”
“Gladitcameinhandy.”
Shefallssilent,andIallowthemomentofquiettohangbetweenus.Sometimesyoujustneedafriendbesideyoutoeasetheanguishinyourchestbeforeyoucantalkaboutit.
Afterafewdrainingminutes,Ihearhersniffle.Ilooktothesideandcatchherwipinghereyes.Hertearsfeellikeapunchinthegut.Dakota’sprettyemotionallytough,almoststoicsometimes,andI’veonlyseenhercryahandfuloftimes.Todaybeingoneofthem.
Iwrapmyarmaroundherasthewindpicksup,makingitchillierthanIcarefor,andIpullhercloser.Sheautomaticallyrestsherheadonmyshoulderandquietlysays,“I’msorry,Bonnie.”
“Whyareyousorry?”Iask,confused.“I’mtheonewhoscrewedup.”
Sheshakesherhead.“No,Iscrewedup.Imadeyoubelieveyouwerethelostone,thatyouneededtofindyourself,wheninrealityit’smewho’slost.”Hervoicegrowstight.“IhavenoideawhoIam.IlostmyselfwithIsabella,andIdon’tthinkI’veeverrecovered,eventhoughI’vebeenpretendingthatIhave.”
“Hey.”Isqueezehertight.“Relationshipsdon’tdefineus,Dakota;theyonlyhelpmoldusintothepeoplewe’resupposedtobecome.”
“AndwhathaveIbecome?”Shewipesathernose.“I’mnotproudofwhatIsaidtoyou,howI’veacted,howIneglectedtoshowupforyoutodaybecauseIwastooembarrassed,tooashamed.I’mnotproudofwhoIamwhenI’mwithIsla,andnotbecausethere’sanythingwrongwithher.She’sperfect,actually,butshejustremindsmehowfuckedupintheheadIam.Isecond-guesseverything.I’mterrifiedthataftereveryconversationwithher,she’sgoingtojudgeme,scoldme,tellmethat’snothowtobealesbian,howtocarrymyself.She’ssodamnamazing,andIhonestlydon’tthinkI’mhealthyenoughtohavethatkindofrelationship.”
“Alovingone?”Iask.“BecauseIthinkthat’sexactlywhatyouneed.Someonetonurtureyou,remindyouofjusthowspecialyouareandeverythingyouhavetoofferthisworld.”
“Ihavenothingtooffer.”
“That’snottrue,andI’lltellyouwhy—becausethegirlwho’ssittinginthecarrightnowwasworriedsickaboutyou.Thereissomuchloveinhereyes,Dakota.Theentiredrivehere,shewastellingmehowmuchshecaresaboutyou,howhappyyoumakeher,howshewishesshehadn’tgivenyouspacebecauseshedoesn’twanttoloseyou.”Isqueezehertight.“Youoffersomuchvalue,andyoucan’tevenseeit.”
Sheliftsherheadandwipeshereyes.“Shesaidthattoyou?”
Inod,wipingatDakota’seyesaswell.“Youmightfeelbroken,butshedoesn’tseeyouthatway,andneitherdoI.Iseeyouasastrongwoman,astronggaywomanwhoknowsherselfbutisjustwaryoftrustingherintuition.”Ipressmyhandtoherheart.“Thisisyourpath,yourguide.Followit,Dakota,anddon’tletyourmindtellyouotherwise.Youhavevalue—youarewortheverythingtome,toIsla,andyes,itwilltaketimetoshakethedamageIsabellahasdonetoyou,butguesswhat—shedidn’tbreakyou,girl.?.?.shejustbentyou.It’stimetostraightenyouout.?.?.well,notlikeprayingyoubacktostraight,butyouknow,keepthegay,butjuststraighten—”
“Iknowwhatyoumean.”Shelaughsandsighs.“Jesus,Bonnie,Ican’tbelieveIsaidthosethingstoyou.I’msofuckingsorry.”
“I’msorryItoldyourstorytoIsla.Inevershouldhavedonethat.Iunderstandhowimportantitis,andIthinkIwasjusttryingtoclingtoanythingthatwouldkeepyouclose.Ifeltyoudriftingaway,anditscaredme.Ididn’twanttoloseyou.”
“Ifeltyoudriftingawaytoo,”sheadmits.“Firstwiththecoffeeshop,thenwithRowan.Ifeltliketheywereallmoreimportantthanme,butinsteadoftalkingtoyouaboutit,Ibottleditupandchosesomepainfulwordstoshoutatyou—wordsIdidn’tmean.”
“Therewassometruthtothem,eventhoughtheyhurt.There’struth.”
“I’mproudofyou,though.”Shefacesme,sittingcross-legged.“I’msoproudofyou,Bonnie,andIcan’tbelieveImissedtheopening.Itwasselfishandwrongand—”
“It’sokay.”AndImeanthat.It’sreallyokay.Duringthedrive,Iwasn’tthinkingaboutthecoffeeshop.IwasthinkingthatImightlosemyfriend,myrock,theonepersonwho’sbeenthroughalltheupsanddownsofmylife.Ican’tloseher.“Ireally,trulymeanit.It’sokay,Dakota.”
Shewrapsherarmsaroundmeandpullsmeintoahug.“You’reallkindsofspecial,Bonnie.Youknowthat?Youdon’tneedtofigureoutwhattodoinlife,becauseyou’redamnnearperfectasyouare.”
Ishakilysmileagainsthershoulder.“Ifonlythatwasenough.”
Shepullsawayandliftsmychin.“Itshouldbe.Whatdidyousaytome?‘Relationshipsdon’tdefineyou;theyonlymoldyou’?Samegoesforyou.Ajob,arelationship,whereyoulive—theydon’tdefineyou.It’showyouliveyourlife,treatothers,andtakeadvantageofeverymomentpresentedtoyou.”Shegripsmycheek.“Likerightnow,aftereverythingIsaid,you’restillhere,showingup,lettingmeknowthatnomatterwhatwesay,nothingcantearusapart.”
“Never.You’remyperson,”Isaysoftlyastearsbuildinmyeyes.
“Andyou’remine.”Shepullsmeintoanotherhug,andthistime,Iholdonalittletighter,lettingthefamiliarembracesoothemytroubledsoul.
Afterafewgoodminutesofholdingoneanother,IhelpherupfromthegroundandcallIslaoutofthecar.Shetentativelywalksover,butwhenIpushDakotatowardher,theyquicklyembrace.Igivethemsomespace,thoughIcan’thelpbutlisteninasIfaceawayfromthem,watchingthewaveslapagainstthedarkearth.
“Iwassoworried,”Islasays.“Ididn’twanttogiveyouspacebutfeltlikeyouneededit.”
Dakotasighsquietly.“I’mnot.?.?.allthewaymentallyhealthy.Isabelladidanumberonmyconfidence.Iwanttobestrongforyou,Isla,butIjustdon’tknowhowtobe,andIdon’twantyoutoresentmeforit.”
“Youdon’tneedtobestrongforme—youjustneedtobehonest.”Iswayalittle,turningslightly,becausegoodGoddoIneedtoseewhat’shappening.Fromthecornerofmyeye,IcatchIslacuppingDakota’scheeks.“I’mfallingforyou,Dakota,sohard,andIknowit’sgoingtobeajourneybattlingyourdemons,butIdon’twantyoutodoitalone.Letmebattlethemwithyou.”
Jesus,ifDakotadoesn’tsnagIsla,Iverywellmight.Talkabouttotaljackpot
“Idon’twanttoputyouthroughthat,”Dakotaanswersstubbornly.I’msecondsawayfromslappingsomesenseintoherwhenstrongIslaswoopsinagain.
“That’swhatrelationshipsarefor,though—toleanoneachotherandguideoneanotherthroughthegood.?.?.andthebad.There’ssomuchmoretoyouthanwhathappenedwithIsabella.That’sasmallbumpintheroadthatIknowwecanconquertogether,butyouhavetotrustmetohelpgetyouoverit.”
“Idotrustyou.You’veshowedmewhatkindnessisinapartner.You’veprovidedmewithencouragementandstrength;eventhroughmyinsecurities,Icanseehowvaluableyouare.Howimportant,thekindofgracefulandpositiveimpactyou’vehadonmylife.I’mjust.?.?.I’mnervous.Idon’twanttobeaburden.”
“You’reneveraburdentome.”Islapullshercloser.“You’reablessing.”
Yup,herecomethewaterworks.There’snowayIcanplayincognitoatthispoint.IfullyturnaroundandstarejustasIslaclosesthedistancebetweenthemandbringshermouthtoDakota’s.Justlookatthem.Happinesswrapsaroundthemandshinesbrightlythrougheverysharedglanceandtouch.It’severythingIcouldeveraskforwhenitcomestomybestfriend:happiness.
ButasIwatchthemkiss,holdeachothertightly,presstheirforeheadstogetherwhiletalkingsoftlyabouthowmuchtheycareforeachother,onethoughtinvadesmymind:CanIevergettherewithRowan?
AfterwhatLeithtoldme,Rowan’sabsence,hisangerasheroaredatmetoleave,myguessisprobablyno.
Andthatmakesmeincrediblysad.
“Youknow,Ijustfeelweirdbeinghere,”IsaytoDakotaandIsla,whoareholdinghandsacrossfrommeatFergie’s,kissingeachothereverytwoseconds.Afterthegrandmakeup,IdrovetheMINICooperbacktoCorsekellysoIslaandDakotacoulddrivetogether.Ididn’tmind—untilmyheadstartedspinningwiththoughtsaboutRowan.
Beforewedroveback,Itookoutmyphoneandsenthimafewtexts,hopingIwouldhearfromhim,sincetodaywassupposedtobeabigday,butwhenweparkedthecarsandIcheckedmyphone,therewasnothing.
It’sputmeinaweirdmood,andsittingacrossfromtwofreshlyreconciledlovebirdsismakingmeevensadderthanbefore.
“IthinkI’mgoingtogo.”
“What?No,stay,”Dakotasays.“Idon’twantyoutofeelweirdaroundus.”
“Idon’tfeelweirdaroundyoutwo.Ijust.?.?.I’mfeelingalittlesadoverthewholeRowanthing,andIdon’twanttobeaDebbieDowner.Plus,youtwoneedsometimetogether.”
“Iwanttospendtimewithyoutoo,”Dakotasays,andIcanseetheindecisioninhereyes,tryingtobalanceafriendshipandarelationshipatthesametime
Smilingather,Ireachacrossthetableandtakeherhand.“Therewillbeplentyoftimetospendwithme.JustpromiseIgetanightsometimethisweek,okay?”
“Ipromise.”Shesmilesback.
IturntoIsla.“Thankyoufortakingcareofmybestfriend.Iappreciateyousomuch.”
“Thatmeansalottome.”
WeexchangequickhugsbeforeIleavethepubandheadbacktothecottage.Iknowthere’scakestashedinthekitchen,andIhaveaheavyinklingthatI’mabouttoeatitall.Thetownisquiet,mostofthenoiseandactivitycomingfromthepub,withafewstragglershereandthere.Itakeadeepbreath,savoringthefreshbreezeofftheloch.IneverthoughtI’dfallinlovewithatown,buthereIam,headoverheelsforCorsekelly,andyet.?.?.itdoesn’tfeelright.
NothinghasfeltrightsincemyfightwithRowan.It’sasifthatfightduganemptyholeinsidemeandI’mtryingtofillitwithwhateverIcan,butit’snotworking.Nothingisworking.
I’mtruly.?.?.sad.AndIdon’tthinkit’sbecausehedidn’tshowuptoday.Idon’tthinkit’sbecausehe’snotcalling.
Ithinkit’sbecauseIaccomplishedsomething.Iprovedmyworth,Icreatedavibe,Ibroughtsomethingtolife,andtheonepersonIwantedtosharethiswithwon’treturnmyphonecallsandmytexts,andit’sallmyfault.
Ithinkit’sbecauseforthefirsttimeinmylife,Ifellinlove,andthemanI’vefalleninlovewithdoesn’tlovemeback.
Andthat’smorepainfulthananything.
IbitemybottomlipasItrudgethroughtown,themagicofthestone-pavedroadlosingabitofitsluster.Everythingseemstohavedulledaroundme,andIknowit’sbecauseIloveRowan.Ilovehimsomuch,andifhedoesn’tlovemeback,thenhowonearthamIsupposedtostayhere,inthesmallesttownI’veevervisited,andactlikeeverythingisnormal?
Surprisingly,Ididn’tfailwhenitcametomyjobthistime—Ithrived.
Butfailurestillrestsheavyonmyheart.
Thesnapofatwigpullsmyattentionfromthegroundtoadarkfigurepassingby.
Wait.
Isthat.?.?.
IsthatRowan?
He’shome?Andhedidn’tletmeknow?
IquicklyhoparoundthecorneroftheMillMarketandpokemyheadaround,eyestrainedonhimasmyhearttumblesintoapitofdespair.Ican’tbelievehewouldn’ttellmehe’shere.Thenagain,it’sreallyallmyfault.Ipushedhimandpushedhimanddrovehimaway.
Ashestepsinsidethepub,IconsidergoingbacktothecottagebutrealizeI’lljustcrytomyselfinmybed,soIoptforthecoffeeshop.AsIapproach,Ihavetoblinkafewmoretimes.Finellaisstandingattheopendoorway.Shelooksstunned,withherhandstoherheartandmouthagape.Anothertwigsnaps,thistimeundermyfoot,andshejumps,hereyesconnectingwithmine.
OhGod.
She’shomeearly.
Iwasn’tpreparedforherreturn.
Doesshehatewhatwe’vedone?
Ihaven’thadachancetoprepareher.
Iclearmythroat.“Finella,you’rebackfromvacation.Ithoughtyou’dbegoneforsixmonths.”
“Thatwastheplan,butStuartwantedtocomeback.”
“Oh.”Itwistmyhandstogether.
Sheturnstowardthecoffeeshopandthenlooksbackatme.Igulp,wonderingifshelikesthechangesorifshewishesshe’dneverbroughtDakotaandmeintothemix.
“Shonatoldmeyou’vebeenworkinghard,Bonnie,butIneverexpectedtocomebacktothis.”Sheshakesherheadindisbelief.“Thisismorethanworkinghard—thisisacompletetransformation.”
“Doyou.?.?.doyoulikeit?”Iask,myhearthammeringforsomanyreasonsatthispoint.
“Iloveit.”
Reliefwashesovermeasshestepscloserandpullsmeintoahug.
“Thankyou,”shewhispers.
It’smyundoing.Iwrapmyarmsaroundherandsobontohershoulder.
Rowan.
Home.
Hiscompleteandtotalsilence.
FeelinglikeInolongerbelong.
Experiencingsuccess,buthavingitovershadowedbymyownfaults.
Itallcrashestogether.Sheholdsmetightly,andherembracefeelslikealong-losthugfrommymom,somethingIhaven’treceivedintoomanyyears.
“Shh,”shesays,strokingmyhair.“’Tisokay,lass.”
“I’msorry,”Isay,tryingtogaincontrolofmyemotionsbutfailingmiserably.Pullingaway,Iwipemyfaceandtakeadeepbreath.“Okay,sorryaboutthat.”
Headtilted,shestudiesme.“AboutRowan—”
Iholdupmyhand.“Please,Finella,Ireallydon’twanttotalkaboutit.HowaboutIjustshowyouaroundthecoffeeshop,getyoufamiliarwitheverything?We’vemadequiteafewchanges.”
“Allright,dear,”shesays,resigned.
Forthenexthalfhour,IshowFinellaaroundthecoffeeshop,listeningtoherappreciationofthehairycoopictures.ShefawnsoverthenewtablesandenjoyseverybiteofthebutteryIserveher.She’sgratefulforeverythingIshowher,eventhesmallthings,likethepower-washedfloors.Andeventhoughherexcitementshouldbecontagious,it’snot.AllIfeelisasenseoffinality.
Myjobhereisdone.
Dakotaishappy.
Finellaisthrilled.
There’snothingreallykeepingmehere,especiallyifRowanhasmovedonaswell.There’sonlyonethingleftformetodo,andthat’s.?.?.callmyparents.
It’stimetogohome.CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
ROWAN
Hangingonbyathread:Three;therearethreethreadsleft.
TimescriedsincefoundoutaboutDa:Five.AndIcanremembereverysingleoneofthemsovividly,asifI’mexperiencingthemnow.
ConversationswithDasinceI’vefoundoutabouthiscancer:MorethanIcancount.
AndthatrightthereiswortheveryhardshipI’vesufferedalongtheway.
“Wanttositthere?”IaskSorcha,mydad’snewnurse,completelydreadingthisconversation.
“Thatlooksgreat.”Webothtakeaseatinaboothinthebackofthepub.
“Therearen’tmanyfoodoptionshere,butIwouldrecommendthefishandchips.”
“Thatworksperfectforme.”Shesmileskindlyandtucksalockofredhairbehindherear.
“Doyouwantadrink?”Iask.
“Waterisfine.”
Inod.“DoyoumindifIorderabeer?I’mgoingtoneedittogetthroughthisconversation.”
“Byallmeans.”
“I’llberightback.”Iquicklygotothebarandputintwosmallordersoffishandchipsandalagerformyself,whichHamishfillsupquickly,alongwithaglassofwaterforSorcha.WhenImakeitbacktothebooth,IhandSorchaherwaterandtakeaseat,bringingthepinttomylipsandtakingalargegulp.
WhenIsetthebeerdown,Sorchalooksmeintheeyes.“Howareyoudoing,Rowan?”
“Myfatherisdying.Icouldbebetter.”
“Haveyoucometotermswithit?”sheaskssoftly.
“No.”Ishakemyhead.“Hehas,though.”
“Hehas.”Sorchanods.
Itakeanotherswigofmylager.“So,whatshouldweexpect?”
“Youwanttojumprightintoit?”
Inod.“Mightaswell.”
“Okay.”SorchareachesintoherpurseandpullsoutanenvelopefromthehospiceproviderwechosetohelpusmakeDa’slastdaysaseasyandpainlessaspossible.
Da’sdoctorwasinstrumentalinpairinguswithacaregiverwhowillstaywithMawandDathroughhislastdays.Icanalreadytellshe’sakindandgentlesoul,someonewhowillbethereforuseverystepoftheway.
Iknowwe’regoingtoneedit.
“Goodmorning,”Isay,walkingthroughthedoorofmyparents’house.Sorchaisalreadyhere,takingcareofDaandmakingsurehe’scomfortableinthehospicebedwesetupinthelivingroom.Theroom’slargewindowslookoutontotheloch,lettinginlightandacoolbreeze,whichwaswhatDawanted.
“Aye,goodmorning,”Dasays,sittingupinthebedandmovingtotheedge.Hismobilityisokay.Hecanmovearoundthemainlevelofthehousewithawalker,butifwegofartherafield,heusesawheelchair.
Mawcomesintothelivingroom,fullydressedandreadyfortheday.“Rowan,areyouhereforthegrocerylist?”
Inod.“Aye.IwasgoingtoruntotheMillMarketquicklyandthencomebacktohelpoutSorcha,likeyousaid.”
“Thankyou,”Mawsays.“I’mrunningtoKyletofilltheseprescriptionsandpickupafewotherthings.Doyouneedanything,Sorcha?”
Sheshakesherhead.“IhaveeverythingIneedrighthere.”
Mawhandsmealistandquietlysays,“Don’tbetoolong.”
“Iwon’t.”Listinhand,IgotoDa’sbed,givehimaquickkissonthetopofthehead,andthensetout.
Normally,Iwouldwalk,butgiventhecircumstances,Ihopinmypickupanddrivetheshortdistanceintotown,parkinginfrontoftheMillMarket.WhenImakemywayinside,Igrabatrolleyandheadstraighttotheproducesectionwhileglancingatthelist.
Apples.
Ineedapplesand—
Crash.
Thetrolleyhandlebumpsintomystomach,andIlookuptoseeawide-eyedBonnielookingstraightatme,ourtrolliesperpendiculartooneanother.
Hell.
WhenwasthelasttimeIsawher?Thoughtabouther?Returnedacallortext?
Theanswertothelastone:never.
I’vethoughtaboutherconstantly,whenmydahasn’tbeenonmymind.
LasttimeIsawher.?.?.Ipushedheraway.
Isawredthatday,tookitoutonher,andranheroutofmylife.
“I’msosorry,”shesays,tryingtogetoutoftheway.“Iwasn’tpayingattention.”
“Nah,Iwasn’t.I’m.?.?.sorry.”
“Guesswebothwereburiedinsomethingelse,”shesays,hervoicewavering.“Allright,well,IguessI’llbegoing.”
“Bonnie—”
“Seeya.”Shewavesquicklyandhurriestowardthecheckoutcounter.WithaquickwordtoShona,sheabandonshercartandstridesoutofthestore.
Fuck.
Idragmyhandovermyface.
WhatthehellhaveIdone?
Andthenithitsme.
Iquicklypullmyphonefrommypocketandglanceatthedate.
“Fuck,”Imutter,pullingatmyhairuntilpainradiatesdownmyskull.“Fuck.”Isqueezemyeyesshut.
Imissedit.
Imissedherfuckingopeningday.
NotonlyhaveIfuckedupwhatwehadbydisplacingmyanger,butIalsobrokeapromise,onethatmeanttheworldtoher.
“Everythingokayoverhere?”Shonaasks,appearingbymyside.“Swearingintheproduceiscauseforconcern.”
“Sorry.”Istickmyphonebackinmypocket.“JustrealizedImissedsomething.”
“Aye,thereopeningoftheHairyCooCoffeeCompany.”
“Howdidyouknow?”
“Justaninkling.”Sherocksbackonherheels.“Iwasthere,butnotuntiltheafternoon.Noneofuswereabletoshowuptillthen.”
“Why?”
“Tourbusgotstuck,soweallwenttohelpthemout.Noonewasattheopening.HeardfromIslathatBonniewasdevastated.”Mygutchurns.“Don’tblamethegirlforgoingbackhome—she’shadaroughgoatit,whatwithgettinginafightwithDakota,losingyou,thecoffeeshop.?.?.andnowthatyourmawisback—”
“Wait.”Iholdupmyhand.“Whatdoyoumean,goinghome?Tothecottage?”
“No,”Shonasays,browfurrowed.“GoingbacktotheStates.”TothefuckingStates?“SheleavesTuesday.It’sniceshewasabletopatchthingsupwithDakotabeforesheleaves.IguessDakotawantedtogowithher,butBonnietoldhertostaywithIslaandhelpyourmawattheshop.Finellatriedtoconvincehertostaythismorning,butIthinkshe’stooheartbroken.”Shonalooksmeupanddown.“Thankstoyou.”
Fuck.
She’sgoingbackhome?
I.?.?.Ican’t.?.?.fuck,shecan’tleave.
“Mawtalkedtoherthismorning?”Iask,mythroatgrowingtight.
Shonanods.“Bonniewasupearlybaking,gettingreadyfortheday,teachingDakotaeverythingsheknows.Notsurehowlongshe’lllast.Dakotadoesn’tseemlikethebakingtype,butshe’sgivingitherbesteffort.”Sheshakesherhead.“Suchashameyoutwodidn’tworkout.Bonniewasperfectforyou.Perfectforthetown.”
Ichewontheinsideofmycheek,tryingtocomprehendeverythingShonaistellingme.
“Anyhoo.?.?.needhelpwithanything?”Shonaasks,hergazesteelyasshestaresmedown.
Ishakemyhead.
“Well,ifyoudo,youknowwheretofindme.”
Whistling,shecasuallywalksbacktoherregisterasmymindwhirls.Iglanceoverather,andasmilestretchesacrossherweatheredface.Howconvenient,Irealize,thatMawsentmetotheMillMarketjustnow.
MawhastriedtotalktomeaboutBonnie,butI’vebrushedheroffeverytime,unabletoeventhinkaboutthepainIcausedher.Everytext,everyphonecall—IignoredthemallbecauseIdidn’tknowwhattosaytoher.
Istilldon’t.
Idon’tevenknowifthereisanythingtosayatthispoint.
She’sgoinghome.
Sheclearlyisdonewithme,andIdon’tblameher.Ihaven’tgivenheranythingtoholdonto.
“Ithinkit’sgoingtorain,”IsayasIhelpDaoutofmypickupandintohiswheelchair.
“Letitrain.”Helooksupatme.“JustmeansCallumisherewithus,right?”
Ismilesoftly.“Iguessso.”Movingbehindhimtopushhimtomycottage,Iask,“Whydidyouwanttocomehere?”
Heholdshishanduptostopme.“Idon’twanttogotoyourhouse.Iwanttogointhere.”Hepointsatmypotteryshed.
“Da—”
“Don’targuewithme.Bringmetoyourshed.”
Withaheavysigh,Iwheelhimtomyshed,openthedoubledoorswide,andpushhiminside.Iwatch,abitnervous,asheslowlytakeseverythingin,handsfoldedonhislap.Hiseyestraveltotheshelves,firstlandingonmycompletedwork,whichisreadyforahomebuthasnowheretogo.Thentheytraveltotheback,whereIdryoutmyprojects.Thoseshelvesareempty.Andthenhetakesinmyworkstation.Messy,withclaysplattereverywhere,it’saplacewheresomeonecreates.Theonlyquestionis,DoesDaseeitthatway?
Iwatchhimwithbatedbreath.Itrytogaugehisreaction,trytounderstandwhat’spassingthroughhishead.Whenhiseyesreturntomycompletedshelf,thecornersofhismouthtwitchupwardtowardthesky.
“Thatmug.”Hepointstooneontheedgeofashelf,glazedandfiredalready.“Bringittome.”
Ofcoursehewouldpickthatmug.
Reachingovertotheshelf,Igrabthemugandhandittohim.Withshakyhands,heexaminesit.Hisfingersglideoverthehandle,theemblemofthehairycoo,theperfectlyshapedcupImadeforBonnie.Hechecksoutthebottom.“Youdon’tsignyourwork?”
Ishrug.“It’snotlikeIdoanythingwithit.”
“Becauseofme,”hesayssoftly.
“BecauseIwasafraidofdoinganythingthatwouldcausethefamilymorepain.”Ileanagainstthewall.“Ihavesomanyregrets,Da,butsettingasidepottery,inthegrandschemeofthings,isnotoneofthem.Forawhile,Ithoughtitwas.IthoughtIwassupposedtomakesomethingofmyselfthroughmyhobby.”Ishakemyhead.“Inowrealizehowobtusethatis.Ishouldhavefocusedonyou.OnMaw.Onmendingourrelationship.”
“Webothshouldhave.Youarenottoblamefortherift.Ididn’tmakeiteasyonyou.AndIpushedyouawaywhenIshouldhavebeenholdingontighter.”
“SeemslikeIgetthatfromyou,”Isaysoftly,lookingouttowardtheleafytreesthatsurroundmycottage.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Bonnie,”Isaywithasigh.“WewereseeingeachotherbeforeIcametoLondon.ThedayyouandMawrangandtoldmeabout.?.?.aboutyourcancer,Ifoundherrighthere,inmyshed,checkingeverythingoutthatI’vealwayskepthidden.Ihonestlycan’trememberwhatIsaidtoher.IthinkI’veblockeditout.AllIrememberistellinghertoleaveandthehorrifiedlookonherface.Ihaven’ttalkedtohersince,andI’vebeenignoringherattemptstoconnectwithme.”
Heslowlynodsandlooksbackdownatthemug.“Doyouloveher?”
Idon’tevenhavetothinkaboutit.Theanswerisclearasdayinmyhead,eventhroughthefogofmyda’sillness.“Ido.She’sthefirstlassI’veeverloved.”
“Doyouwanthertobethelast?”
Ireachupandgripthetopofthedoorframe.“Yeah,Iwould,butIdon’tthinkthat’sanoption.She’sgoingbacktoAmericaonTuesday.”
“Tuesday?”Inod.“Thenthatmeansyoustillhavetoday.”Hesmiles.
“Da,Ican’t—”
“Whatisyourbiggestregret,besidesme?”
Iglanceaway.“MyfightwithBonnie.”
“Sowhat’sstoppingyou?Yourstubbornpride?Don’tletapersonalitytraityouinheritedfrommekeepyoufromgettingwhatyouwant.Youloveher,yes?”
“Aye.”
“ThenbethemanIknowIraised.Apologize,andbeghertostay.IftherewasonethingInoticedwhenwe’dspeaktoyouonthephone,itwasthepassionyouhadforthatgirl.ThesamepassionIhaveforyourmaw.It’sone-of-a-kindlove,Rowan.Don’tbeaneejitandloseit.”
“But,Da,Ishouldbefocusingonyou.”
Hiseyesnarrow.“YouandIarerightwherewe’resupposedtobe.Doyouunderstand?Thebestthingyoucandoforme,intheselastdaysofmylife,ismakesureIleavethisearthknowingthatyou’retakingcareofyourmaw,thatyou’reamanofthistown,andthatyou’rehappy.AndImeandeep-rooted,toyourmarrow,happy.CanBonniebringyouthatkindofhappiness?”
“She’stheonlythingthat’severwashedawaythepainandbroughtmejoy.”
“Thenwhatthefuckareyoudoinghere,talkingtome,youbawbag?Gogether.”
“Justlikethat?Gouptoherandaskforherforgiveness?”
“Aye.Helpsifyouhaveapeaceofferingaswell.”
Iglanceatthemuginhishands.“Iactuallymadethatforher.”
Heholdsupthemugandsmiles.“Thenit’sveryfitting.”Heholdsitout,andItakeitfromhim.Imovetothebackofhiswheelchair,buthestopsmewithahandtomyforearm.“Rowan,comehere.”
Isquatinfrontofhim,andheplaceshishandonmyshoulder,givingitafeeblesqueeze.Iknowit’sallhecanmuster,butit’senoughforme,andIputmyhandontopofhis.
“IneedtotellyousomethingIshouldhavetoldyoumanyyearsago.”Hisvoicechokesupandhecoughsafewtimesbeforehesteadieshimselfandmakeseyecontactwithme.“Yourtalent.?.?.it’sbeyondanythingI’veeverseen.This”—hepointstotheshed—“thisiswhatyoushouldbedoing,andInevershouldhavemadeyouthinkdifferently.I’msorry,Rowan.”
“Da,pleasedon’tapologize.”
“Ineedto.IneedyoutoknowI’mashamedofmybehavior,andIwouldbehonored.?.?.”Hisvoicecracks,andmythroattightens.“Iwouldbehonoredifyouwouldmakemyurn.”
“Da.?.?.”Tearsfillmyeyes.“Ican’t—”
“Dothisforme,Rowan.Please.Makemyurn.Itwouldmeansomuchtome.”Hesqueezesmyshoulder.“Please.”
Wipingatearfrommyeye,Inod.“Itwouldbemyhonor,Da.”CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
BONNIE
Cakeslicesconsumed:OnefullDundeecake,courtesyofIsla.
Tattiesconesconsumed:Two;onewasburnt,courtesyofDakota.
Cakebatterconsumed:Atleastonecup,courtesyofmyfingers,whichcouldn’tstopscoopingupgobs.Don’tworry,Iusedthebatterformyowncake.Whichbringsmeto.?.?.
Boxcakeconsumed:Ameaslyhalfofone,thankstomydippyfingers.
AlloftheaboveisbecauseI’mheadedhomewithoutmybestfriendandwithsomethingnew:abrokenheart.
“Areyousureyouwanttodothis?”DakotaasksasIwipedownthecoffeeshopcounter,myflightbackhometomorrowloomingoverme.
“No,butIthinkit’swhatIhavetodo.Ican’tstayhere.NotnowthatRowan’sback.It’stoopainful.”
“But,Bonnie,don’tyouseewhatyou’vedone?”Dakotamotionstothenow-emptycoffeeshopthatwasbustlingallday.“Youmadesomethingofthisplace.Youcreatedanenvironment,notonlyfortouristsbutforthelocalstoo.YousawHamishandAlasdair—theywerehereforanhour,justtalkingandenjoyingsometattiescones.Youbroughtthisplacebacktolife.”Dakotashakesmyshoulders.“You,Bonnie.Youdidthat.Nooneelse.”
“Ihadhelp,”Isay,flushingasIallowmyselfamomenttofeelproudofwhatI’vecreated.Iglancearoundtheshop,myheartcompletelyinvestedinthesefourwalls.
FindyourselfinScotland.
Ifoundmyself.?.?.andsomuchmore.
“Youhadhelp,butwejustexecutedyourvision.Thesuccessofthecoffeeshoprestsinyourhands.You’rejustgoingtoleavethat?”
“WouldyoubeabletostayhereifIslawasn’ttalkingtoyou?”
“IwouldatleasttrytotalktoherbeforeIleft.Whydon’tyoutalktohim?”
“Andsaywhat?”Itossmycleaningragintothelaundrybasketwekeepunderthecounter.
“Thatyou’resorry?”
“I’vetriedtodothat.YoushouldhaveseenthelookonhisfaceattheMillMarket.Therewasnothingthereotherthanthedesiretoretreatasquicklyaspossible.”Iworkmywayaroundthecounterandstartliftingthechairsoffthefloorandontothetables.“Ican’tstayhere.”
“Soyou’regoingtogobackhome.?.?.toyourparents?”Dakotafollowscloselybehindmebutdoesn’thelp.
“Yup,can’twaittohearthemtellme‘Itoldyouso’multipletimes,everyday,untiltheydie.”
“Bonnie,therehastobesomethingwecando.Maybeyoucanfindanothertownouthere.”
“Andwhat?Work?PrettysureIneedsomekindofworkvisaforthat,andIdon’tthinkthey’regoingtoprovideonetosomeonewhojustcamefromworkingatacoffeeshop.Faceit,Dakota,I’mboundforCalifornia,andthereisnothingyoucando.”
I’vefinishedupwiththechairsandhavestartedtomovetowardthecounterwhenDakotastopsme.
“I’llcomewithyou,andwecanfiguresomethingout.”
“We’vebeenoverthis.Youarenotcomingwithme,notwhenyouhaveIslahere.”
“Youcan’tgobacktoyourparents—you’llbemiserable.”
“NotasmiserableasIwouldbestayinghereandseeingRowanallthetime,workingforhismom.”
Dakotalooksofftotheside.“Butyouloveworkinghere.”
Iwalkbackovertothecounter,whereIhoistmyselfupandscanthespaceonemoretime.Regretfillsme.Idon’twanttoleavethis,notevenalittle,notwhenIfeellikeI’vefoundmypurpose,whatI’mgoodat.“Yeah,Iknow.Todaywassoamazingwithallthetourbusespouringin.Ican’tbelievewesoldoutbynoon.Justthekindofsend-offIneeded.”
Dakotaissilentforasecond,andthensheturnstome,aseriousexpressiononherface.“WhatamIgoingtodowithoutyou,Bonnie?IcanbarelykeepittogetheraroundIsla.Ineedyouhere.”
“Youdon’tneedme.You’resomuchstrongerthanyouthinkyouare,andwhenyoudofeelweak,Islaistheretobuildyouup.Idon’tthinkIcouldhavepickedsomeonebetterforyou.She’sperfect,andwhenyoutwogetmarriedoneday—becauseIknowit’sgoingtohappen—andyou’restandinghandinhand,bothofyouwearingbeautifulwhitedressesthatblowinthebreeze,I’llrememberthedayyoushowedmetheadfortwocoffeeshopemployeesandknowitwasthebestdecisionweevermade.”
“Butyou’releaving—howwasitthebestdecisionforyou?”
Ismile.“BecauseI’mleavingherewithconfidence,somethingIhaven’thadinaverylongtime.I’mleavinghereknowingImadeachange,knowingIhelpedyou,IhelpedFinellaandStuart,andmaybeevenhelpedthistown.I’malsoleavinghereknowingexactlywhatitfeelsliketolovesomeone.I’machangedwoman,Dakota.Youwereright:Ineededtofindmyself,andScotlandmighthavebeentheplacetodothat.”Ismiletomyself,tearswellinginmyeyes.“Ifoundmyself,andthatrighttherewillhelpmegetthroughtheheartacheoflosingRowan.”Atleast,I’mhopingitdoes,becauseit’sgoingtotakealongtimetogetridofthisburning,achingholeinmychest.
“I’mnotsayingIlikethatyou’releaving,butIamproudofyou.You’vecreatedsuchabrilliantlycozyspaceforthetownandfortourists.Veryproudofyou,Bonnie.”
“Thankyou.”
“Andfrankly,Iknowyou’rehurtingnow,butIbelieveyou’restrongenoughtogetoverRowan.Youknow.?.?.ifyouwanttostayandgiveitatry.”
Iquietlychuckleandshakemyhead.“Iappreciateyourencouragement,butIthinkitwouldbetoomuch.Andhey,Finellagavemeheremailaddressandsaidtouseherasareference.Forallfuturejobs.NotsurewhatI’lldo,butatleastI’llhavethattohelpmeout.”
“Yeah.”Dakotawrapsherarmaroundme.“I’mgoingtomissyou.”
“I’llmissyoutoo,butit’sforthebest.Honestly,Icouldn’tstayhereevenifIwantedto.Inowtrulyknowwhatabrokenheartfeelslike.”Iblowoutashakybreath.“Idon’twanttotalkaboutitanymore.Howaboutwejustenjoysomecakeonelasttime?”
“Isthereanyleft?”
Iplayfullynudgeher.“Isnaggedoneofthecherrycakes.You’llbeshortonetomorrow.”
“Great,itonlytookeverythinginmetomakethose.”
WelaughasIhopoffthecounterandtakethecakeoutofmyhidingspotinthebakerychest.
Ipopopenthetopoftheto-gobox.“Inmyhead,weeachtakeahalf,butI’mthinkingweworkourwaytothehalfwaymark?”
Dakotareachesfortheplates.“Let’sjustcallitlikeitis.Splititandplopahalfoneachplate.”
“AndthatiswhyIloveyou.”
Aftercuttingthecakerightdownthemiddle,Igiveeachofusahalf,andweleanagainstthecounter.Weclangourforkstogetheranddigin—justasthedoortotheshopopens.
BothofourheadswhiptotheentranceasRowanstepsinside,closingthedoorbehindhim.Hairstyled,button-upshirthugginghistorso,jeansclingingtohisthighswiththecuffsrolled,makingroomforhisclassicboots.Mybreathcatchesinmychestatthemeresightofhim,andIrealizesomething:notonlydoIlovehim,butIreallydon’tknowifI’mevergoingtogetoverhim.
“Rowan,”Isay,soundinglikeabreathlessfool.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”
“CanIcomein?”
“Uh,DakotaandIarehavingagirls’night.”
“Thiswon’ttakelong.”Hewalksacrosstheshop,thatstubborn,grumpyattitudeIfellinlovewithonfulldisplayasheleansagainstthecustomersideofthecounter.
“Didn’tyouhearme?Isaidwe’rehavingagirls’night.”
“AndItoldyouthiswon’ttakelong,butifyoukeepmakingmerepeatmyself,itmighttakelonger.”
“Didyoucomeheretobeadick,becauseifthat’sthecase.?.?.”Islow-clap.“You’redoingagoodjob.”
“Stillsarcastic,Isee.”
“Youdon’tlosesarcasminaweek.Takestimetodrivethatoutofsomeone.Youmighthavebrokenmyheart,butyoudidn’tbreakmyspirit.”
HiseyessoftenasDakotawhispers,“Ooh,goodone.”
“Thankyou,”Iwhisperbehindmyhand.“Feltlikeanexcellentcomeback.”
“Itwasaces,”Dakotasays,hoppinguponthecounter,whereshesitsandenjoystheshow.
Rowanscratchesthesideofhisjaw,lookingbetweenus.“Willtheaudiencebestayingforthisentireconversation?”
IturntoDakota.“Hewantstoknowifyou’restaying.”
“Idon’tfeellikeleaving,that’sforsure.Ilikethathe’suncomfortable.”
“Notuncomfortable,”hesays,shrugging.“Justpreparingmyselfformoreobnoxiouscommentary.”
“Tellhimhe’sadick.”
“Shealreadycalledmethat.”Hesoundscockierthanever.Ihavenoideawhathisangleisrightnow,butit’snotmakingmesad.?.?.it’smakingmemad
“Iwasn’ttalkingtoyou,”Dakotahissesathim.ShenodsatRowanwhilespeakingtome.“Goahead,tellhim.”
Ifoldmyarmsovermychest.“DakotaandIwouldlikeyoutobeawareofourillfeelingstowardyou.Wespoke,andweagree—you’reamicroboaby.”
“Aye,goodtoknow.”He’sunfazed.“Whenyou’redoneactinglikeachild,Iwouldliketohaveanadultconversation.”
“Actinglikeachild?”Ijustaboutscream.“You’retheonewhothrewatempertantrumwhenIopenedyourmanshed.Newsflash:Iwasjusttryingtogetonemorelookatyourpowerwasher,notinvadeyourprivacy.Sheesh,youwouldhavethoughtI’dfoundyourcollectionoftwisted-offnipplesorsomething.”
“FromwhatIheard,thereactionwasuncalledfor,”Dakotasays.
“Itwas,”heagrees.“Itwasn’tfair.Itookmybuilt-upangeroutonBonniewhenIshouldhaveleanedonherforsupport.”
Support?
Forwhat?
“Didsomethinghappen?”Iask.
Hemovesfromthecounterandgoestothedoor,openingitacrackandliftingupapaperbag,whichheapparentlyleftoutside.Confused,Iwatchhimclosethedistanceandholdituptome.“ImadethisforyoubeforeIselfishlylostmytemper.Thoughtyoucouldtakeitwithyou.”
Oh.?.?.apartinggift.
Huh.
WhydidIthink,andmaybeevenhope,thathewasgoingtobegmetostay?
Itakethegift.“Well,thankyou.I’llbesuretosendathank-youcard.”Imotiontothedoor.“Ifyou’llexcuseus,wehavesomecaketotendto.”
“Openthegift,Bonnie.”
“IthinkI’drathersaveitforasurpriselater.”
“Open.It.”
“Ithinkhewantsyoutoopenit,”Dakotawhispers.
“Iknowwhathewants,”Ihiss.“Fine,I’llopenit.”ItearthetissuepaperoutofthewayandletitfloattothefloorasIreachintothebagandgriparoundobject.Ipullitout,andmybreathseizesinmylungsasItakeinthebeautifulhand-thrownmug.Coveredinwhiteglazewithpinkdrippingupwardatthebottom,it’sspeckledandbeautiful,with.?.?.ohGod,isthatahairycoostampedintotheside?
“Iwantedtogiveyousomethingthatremindedyouofallthatyou’veaccomplished.Allthatyou’vedoneforthistown.?.?.formyfamily,”headdsquietly,andtheconfidentalphawhobargedinherequicklymorphsintoashyhumanbeing.
“It’s.?.?.it’sbeautiful,Rowan.”
“Thankyou.”Growingserious,hetakesastepforwardandliftsmychinsoI’mforcedtoshowhimthetearswellinginmyeyes.“Thatmorning,thephonecallItook,itwasmyparents.”Heclearshisthroat.“Contrarytowhattheytoldme,theyweren’tonholibags.TheywereinLondon,meetingwithaspecialist.Mydahasbonecancer.”
“OhGod,”DakotaandIsayatthesametime.
Dakotahopsoffthecounter,clearlysensingtheshiftinmood.“I’mjustgoingtogiveyoutwosomespace.”Withthat,shehurriesintotheshop’skitchen,leavingmealonewithRowan.
“Couldwesit?”heasks,andInod,leadingthewaytooneofthetables.Welowerthechairsandbothtakeaseat.
“Isyourdadgoingtobeokay?”Iask,clutchingthemug.
HisAdam’sapplebobsupanddownasheswallowshard,eyescastdown,handsfolded.“IwishIcouldsaythatheis,butheonlyhasafewweeksleft.Wehaveahospicenursestayingatmyparents’house,helpingusthroughtheprocess.Wewenttothepubtheothernight,andshewalkedmethrougheverythingtoexpectinthecomingweeks.”
“OhmyGod,Rowan,I’msosorry.Howareyoudealingwithallofit?”
“Well,it’sforcedmetohavesometoughconversations—conversationsIneverthoughtI’dhavewithmyfather.I’mgratefulforthem,though,forthislastweekI’vespentbyhisside,talkingtohimabouteverythingandnothing.It’smeantalottome.Butitalsomademeforgetaboutsomethingimportant.”Hereachesoverandtapsthemuginmyhands.“IwassupposedtogivethattoyouonFriday,onreopeningday,butIwasn’tthere.Ialsoforgotabout—”
“Rowan,youclearlyhadmoreimportantthingstodealwiththanasillyreopening.”
“Itwasn’tsilly.Itwasimportanttoyou,whichmadeitimportanttome.Anditwasimportanttomyfamily.I’msorryImissedit,thatyouhadtospendmostofthedayalone.Justthinkingaboutyouallbyyourself,waitingforsomeonetocomein,makesmefeelill.”
“Iwasfine,”Isay.It’snotthetruth,butI’mnotabouttopileontheguilt.
“Ishouldhavebeenthere.”Hepusheshishandthroughhishair.“Hell,Ishouldhavebeenalotofthingstoyou,Bonnie,butIroyallyfuckedup.”
“Rowan—”
“No.”Heshakeshishead.“Pleaseletmegetthisoffmychest.”Hiseyespleadwithme,soIsitthere.?.?.andlisten.“EversinceCallumpassedaway,I’vefeltthisdarkcloudloomingovermylife.Ilosttouchwithmyda,andevensimpleconversationwithmymawwasstrained.Ihadthistownandmyfriends,butnothingeverfeltthesamewiththem.Everythingjustfeltdark,andnomatterwhatIdidordidn’tdo,Iwasstagnant.Everydaywasthesame.Everythoughtwasthesame.Everyinteractionwasmundaneatbest.”Hiseyesconnectwithmine.“Andthenyoucameintomylife.Aballofenergyandblondehairreadytotakethepissoutofmeanychanceyougot.Youdrovemecrazy,andyes.?.?.youmademeactlikeKiltyMcGrumpyshire.”Isnort,evenasmyheartthreatenstopoundoutofmychest.“Buthell,Bonnie,youmademefeelfuckingaliveagain.”
Hetakesmyhand,andfromthelookofdesperationinhiseyes,IknowI’mdone
“Iloveyou,Bonnie.Idon’tknowhowithappened,orwhenithappened,butI’mgladthatitdid.You’veforcedmetostepoutsideofmystagnantlittleworldandlearntobreathelifebackintomylungs.”Heclearshisthroat.“Theotherday,whenIscreamedatyoutoleave.?.?.fuck,Idon’tknowwhatIwasthinking.Iwasoutofcontrol,andItookitoutonyou.Iwastooembarrassed,tooangry,tooblindtofixitwithyou.Ineededtogetmyheadonstraight,andhonestly,I’mbarelyhangingonatthispoint.ButmydasaidIcan’tloseyou,andhe’sright.Ican’tletaonce-in-a-lifetimekindoflovewalkoutofmylifewithoutputtingupafight.Sopleasedon’tleave,lass.Pleasedon’tfuckinggobacktoAmerica.Ineedyouhere.Iwantyouinmylife,inmybed,bymyside.?.?.forever.”
Mistyeyed,Iblinkafewtimes,butit’suseless.Tearscascadedownmycheeks
Helovesme.I’mnotdreamingit.Heactuallylovesme.
Thisman,whoIoncethoughtwasthemostirritatingcreatureontheplanet.Themanwhobecameanadvocateformysuccess.ThemanwhohelpedshowmehowspecialIreallyam.
Helovesme.
Ismilewithshakylipsashegentlywipesmytearsawaywithhisthumbs,concernetchinghisface.
Withawobblyvoice,Isay,“Iloveyoutoo,Rowan.Idon’tknowhoworwhenithappenedeither,butjustlikeyou.?.?.I’mgladthatitdid.”
“Thenyou’llstay,lass?”
“Ofcourseshe’sgoingtostay!”Dakotayellsasshebarrelsoutofthekitchenandthrowsherarmsaroundme.Isnortoutalaugh,bubblesofgrossnesscomingoutofmynose.“Shewasleavingbecauseofyou,youbiglug.Butnowshehasnoexcusetoleave.”Dakotahasmeinaviselikegrip,practicallyclimbingintomylap.
“Iloveyou,Dakota,”Isay,laughing,“butdoyouthinkIcanfinishthingsuphere?”
“Ohyeah,sorry,”shechucklesandthenturnstoRowan.Shepuncheshiminthearm,buthedoesn’tevenflinch.“That’sforstressingmeoutandnearlydrivingmybestfriendaway.”Shepointsasternfingerathim.“Youowemeoneofthosemugs.”
Helaughs.“I’msorry,Dakota.I’llmakeyouandIslaamatchingset.Hersandhers.”
“Oh,Iseehowyouwork,reallyreachingforthebrowniepoints.Uh-huh.Iseeyou,RowanMacGregor.”Dakotaslowlybacksaway.“Iseeyou.”Thistimesheleavestheshop,andwhenthedoorclicksshut,Rowanmovesincloser.
“Soyou’llstay?”
“Depends.”Ismile.“IfIstay,willyoucometobedwearingakilttonight?”
“I’lldoanythingyouwant,lass,aslongasIcomehometoyou.”
Istandupandplacethemugonthetable—carefully—andwalkaroundthetable,whereIsettleontohislap.HiswidepalmsspanmybackasIcuphischeeks.“Ican’timaginebeinganywhereelse.”Ilowermyforeheadtohis.“Iloveyou,McGrumpyshire.”
“Iloveyou,lass.”
Ilowermymouthtohisandkisshim.
Grippinghimtightly,Ikisshimwithpassion,withlove,witheverythinginme,becauseI’mgratefulforhim.
I’mgratefulforthistown.
AndeventhoughIblamedDakotafortalkingmeintothisadventureinthefirstplace,I’mgratefulweflewtoScotlandonawhim.IneverwouldhavefoundRowanotherwise.But,mostimportantly,IneverwouldhavefoundwhoIamandwhoI’msupposedtobe.EPILOGUE
ROWAN
Fiancéessincewelastspoke:One.
Pregnantfiancéessincewelastspoke:One.
Pregnantfiancéeswhoareravenousforcake:One.
Pregnantfiancéeswhoareravenousforcakeandboaby:One.
I’mfeelinglikeoneluckylad.
“Doesthislookcrooked?”
Bonniewalksintothebathroomofourhotelroom,wearingagolddressthatstretchestightaroundherterrifictitsbutflowsgracefullyoverherbabybump.
Ourbaby.
Fuckinghell,Istillcan’tbelieveit.DapassedawaytwoweeksafterBonniedecidedtostayinCorsekelly,butwithinthosetwoweeks,wewereabletobringhimintothecoffeeshopeveryotherday,rightupuntilthelasttwodaysofhislife.Hewasabletositandenjoytheatmosphere,speakwithShonaandHamishandalltherest—andenjoybutterieswhenhisstomachwasupforit.HegottoknowBonnieaswell,andhesharedallhisbakingtricks,onesIalreadyknew,butIlethimtellheranyway.Andonhisdeathbed,adaybeforehepassed,heheldmyhandtightandwhisperedthatIneededtomarryher.Toneverletheroutofmysight.Shewastheoneforme.IpromisedhimIwouldn’tlethergo.
AndIhaven’t.
IonlywishDaandCallumwereheretowitnessBonnie’spregnancyandournuptialsnextmonth.Buteventhoughtheyaren’thereinperson,Iknowthey’rehereinspirit.Atleast,theywerewithmewhenIproposedtoBonnieinmycottage,withapieceofcakeandaringasthecherrytopper—becausewhenshesaidyes,thecloudsbrokeopenandrainpoundedagainsttherooflikeapplause.
“OhdearGod,”Bonniesays,clutchingatherheartasshestaresatme.“WhydidDakotadothistome?”
“Dowhat?”Iask,snappingbacktothepresentasIturnandlookdownatmyweddingattire.I’mwearingaMacGregorred-and-green-tartankiltwithamatchinggreenjacket,vest,whiteshirt,andredtie.
“Makeyouwearakilt.Sheknowsit’smyweakness.Doesshewantmepalmingyourballsduringherceremony?”
“YouwillkeepyourhandsawayfrommybawswhileIperformmyduties.Doyouhearme,lass?”
“Youknow,Ihearyoutalking,butI’mnotquiteunderstanding.”
I’llbehonest—Dakotaknewexactlywhatshewasdoingwhenshepickedoutmyoutfitforthewedding.DakotaandIsla,forthatmatter.Theyaskedmetoofficiatetheceremony,andtherewasnowayinhellIwasturningdowntheopportunity.ThemomentIslatoldmeshewasgoingtoproposetoDakota,IknewIwantedtobepartofthecelebration.Ididn’tcarehow—Ijustneededtobeinvolved.Andtheygavemethehighesthonor.
Theweddingwillbesmall,intimate,withjustafewlocalsandDakota’sparents,whoarequitethrilledforthehappycouple.They’vebeenintownforaweekandhavedoneallthetouristythings,whichincludevisitingtheBoabyStoneandstoppingintotheHairyCooforacoffeeandbuttery.Dakota’sparentsalsofawnedovertheshop’smerchandiseandsnappedupafewofmymugs,whichseemtosellouteveryweek.Wecanbarelykeepupwiththedemand,especiallysinceIstartedmakingboaby-likehandlesforthemugs.EveryonewantstobetheSerpentQueenandclaimthatboaby.CanyoutellitwasBonnie’sidea?Whenshefirstproposedit,thelastthingIwantedtodowascarvepeniseseveryday,butI’vebecomeprettygoodatitnow,andIhavetoadmit:it’skindoffunny.
WhatIdon’tthinkisfunnyiswhenBonniepretendstostrokethemugswhilemakingahorriblesnogface.Let’sjustsayhermaturitylevelisdiminishingthefurthershegetsintoherpregnancy.
“Whatareyoutwodoing?”Mawasks,comingintotheroom.“Dakotaislookingforyou,Bonnie.”
“Tellhertokeepitinherpants.Ineedtostareatmyfiancéforafewmoreseconds.”Mawlaughsandtakesofftowardtheceremonyspace.
IspinBonniearoundandleadheroutthedoor.“Youkeepitinyourpants,”Iwhisperinherear.“Behave,lass,youhearme?Noliftingupmykilt.”
“Areyouwearingunderwear?”
“Aye.”
“ThenIcan’tbeheldresponsibleforwhatIdo.”
Westepoutsideandturnthecornerofthehotel,wherewefindDakotaandIsla.They’restandingtogetheronthepatiothatoverlookstheceremonyspace,whichrestsrightinfrontofthevastbluelochthatstretchesformiles.They’reholdinghandsandlookinggorgeousintheirwhitegowns.Dakota’shasmoreofagoldtonetogowithBonnie’sdress,whileIsla’sfeaturesatartansashthatcinchesherwaistandcascadesdowntheback.
“Areyoutwoready?Wewouldreallyliketogetmarried,”Dakotasays.
“You’retheonewhoputhiminakilt.”Bonniegoesuptoherbestfriendandplacesasoftkissonhercheek.Ihearhersay,“I’msohappyforyou.Youdeserveallofthisandsomuchmore.”
“Don’tmakemecry.”Dakotawavesherhandinfrontofherface,makingBonnielaugh.
“Andthat’swhatyougetforputtingmyfiancéinakilt.YouknowhowhornyIam.”
“Suchabeautifulmoment,”Ideadpan.
Islatakesmyhand,whichismycuetostarttheceremony.Together,wewalkdowntheaisle,smilingatthefriendsandfamilygroupedoneitherside,andstopattheedgeofthewater—aplacewhereDakotaandIslafindpeace,aplacetheyfrequentoften,andwheretheywillforeverreturn,knowingthiswasthespotthatjump-startedtheirlifetogether.
IgazedowntheaisleasBonnieandDakotawalkdownittogether,holdinghands.Bonniemeetsmyeyesandsmiles,andhappinessfloodsmywholebody.
Itwaskindofmadofmymawtoputoutanadvert,lookingfortwofriendstorunthecoffeeshop,buttothisday,itwasthemostlife-changingthingshe’severdone.
Notonlydidtheideagivethecoffeeshopafuturenoonecould’vebelievedpossible,butitalsobroughtIslalove.Anditbroughtmeawholenewperspectiveonlife.
Imadepeacewithmyda.
I’minlove.
I’mengaged.
Ihaveababyontheway.
Bonniewillsayshecamehereonawhim,butIfelttheweathershiftthedayshearrivedintown.Ithinkitwasmorethanjustawhim.IfIhavetoadmitit—Iglanceupattheskyascloudsoverheadstartrollingin—IthinkCallumhadasmallparttoplayaswell.ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
So.?.?.Scotlandisnowonmylistofplacestogo.Ibecameobsessedwithresearchforthisbook.Soobsessedthatlateatnight,mywifewouldfindmewatchingYouTubevideosaboutScottishtourism,sports,shops,recipes.Thelistgoesonandon.IwouldeventuneintolearntheScottishbroguesoIcouldgetitright.IhadadreamwhereIlinedupabunchofScotsinarowanddraggedabroomundertheirkilts.Mybrainisaterrifyingthing,butScotlandhasalittlepieceofmyheartnow.LuckyforScotland,huh?Ifyouhearaboutacrazyblondeladydraggingbroomsunderkilts,justknowthatit’sprobablyme.
ToAimeeAshcraft,myagent,thankyouforsittingthroughmyneurotictextsandansweringeverysingleoneofthemasItriedtosiftthroughthisstory.I’mproudofwhatwewereabletoputonpaper.
Bigshout-outandthank-youtoLaurenPludeforbeingacheerleaderforallthingsMeghanQuinn,foracquiringmystories,andforlovingthemasmuchasIdo.Youmaketheprocesssoeasy.
LindseyFaber,yourenthusiasmandloveformystoriesputsasmileonmyfaceandmakesmebelieveinmyselfalittlebitmoreeverytimewegothroughedits.
Toallthebloggersandreadersoutthere,Idon’tevenknowhowtoexpressmydeepestloveforyou.YoutakeachanceonmybookseverytimeIreleaseone,whichissomethingIcouldnevershowenoughgratitudefor.Thankyouforbeingthebestfansagirlcouldaskfor.Youmakethisjobsomuchfun!
ThankyoutoJennyforkeepingmesane,forhandlingeverythingbehindthescenes,andforbeingmynumberonefan.Iadoreyou.
Andlastly,thankyoutomywife,Steph.YouarethereasonI’mabletodowhatIdoeveryday.Youkeepmegrounded,youmaketimeandspaceformetobecreative,andyou’vealwaysbeenbymysideeverystepoftheway.Iloveyou.ABOUTTHEAUTHOR
Photo?2019MilanaSchaffer
USATodaybestsellingauthor,wife,adoptivemother,peanutbutterlover,andauthorofromanticcomediesandcontemporaryromance,MeghanQuinnbringsreaderstheperfectcombinationofheart,humor,andheatineverybook.
Text“READ”to474747tonevermissanotheroneofMeghanQuinn’sreleases.