Chapter 8
EIGHT
CIARA
“To the unquestionable success of the new album, and all of you who helped get me there! I absolutely couldn’t have done it without you.”
Like everyone else in the wall-to-wall packed pub, I raised my glass to Isobel with a cheer. We all had a vested interest in seeing her succeed. She’d been so afraid when she’d come to us, having been kept under her manager’s controlling and abusive thumb from the time she’d been a teenager because of a predatory contract. In the years since, she’d taken a page out of Taylor Swift’s book and had been rerecording all her previous albums. The effort had been a wild success among her fans. Tonight was a celebration of the latest release, and it felt as if the entire village was here.
The doors to the outdoor patio were thrown open, and for once, the weather was on our side. The crowd spilled out into the courtyard, kept warm by the crush and the strategically placed outdoor heaters. Inside, it was just shy of standing-room only. My friends and I were fortunate enough to have snagged a small table in the corner. Under ordinary circumstances, I’d have been thrilled to be here celebrating Isobel’s success, but everyone being here meant everyone— including Alex. Not that he’d approached me. But I kept catching glimpses of him over by the bar, clustered around Isobel in a posture I recognized as protective. He had been part of her security team, and I supposed old habits died hard. He and Finn were both keeping close, while Ewan ran things behind the bar.
“Are you all right, Ciara?”
I dragged my attention back to find Saoirse watching me with concern. “Aye, fine.”
Pippa Wallace blinked at me from behind the lenses of her glasses. “Are you sure? You look like you’re about to jump straight out of your skin.”
She wasn’t entirely wrong. Evidently, I was failing miserably at hiding my own discomfort.
Skye Stewart, the fourth leg of our little group, leaned forward and lowered her voice, though no one was likely to overhear a word that wasn’t bellowed. “Are you worried Brodie’s gonna show up?”
It was a reasonable excuse. They all knew I’d been having some trouble with my ex.
“Not really.”
“Has he finally left you alone, then?” Pippa asked.
“Maybe? We had a bit of a run-in at the butcher shop in Braemore a couple of weeks ago. I had to get a lot more direct with him than I have before. It felt incredibly rude, but I think it maybe, finally, sank in that I was serious. I haven’t seen him since.”
Skye settled back in her chair, fingers tapping on her nearly empty glass. “It sucks when you have to be rude to make people listen. I don’t know how it is for y’all over here, but back home, we have courtesy drilled in from the cradle. Sometimes, though, there’s no substitute for a clear, concise ‘Fuck off.’”
There was something incredibly amusing about hearing the profanity in Skye’s sweet Southern drawl. A fairly recent transplant to Glenlaig, she’d moved to Scotland from Mississippi to be with her boyfriend, Jason McKinnon, who was presently manning the opposite end of the bar from my brother.
“We all know that if such tactics were taken by a man, it would be called ‘direct’ instead of ‘rude’. I say the world would work far smoother if we were all more direct,” Saoirse announced.
I smirked. “You’re just saying that because you dinna want to put the effort into curbing the first thoughts that come into your head.”
Casually, she took a sip of her beer. “Well, you’re not wrong. Animals are so much easier than people. People are such finicky creatures.”
“Truth.” Pippa clinked her glass to Saoirse’s in solidarity. “I’d much rather spend time with my coos.” A computer programmer by trade, Pippa’s true love was making artisan cheese. She’d been making quite a name for herself in some circles, enough so that she was hoping to be able to switch to making cheese full-time in another year or two.
Saoirse propped one booted foot on her knee. “So, it’s been—what?—four months since you broke up with Brodie? When are you going to get back out there?”
“You literally just talked about how finicky people are,” I protested.
“Finicky, yes, but men still serve a purpose. You have needs, love.”
I didn’t need reminding of those needs. Practically every time I spotted Alex, it felt as if I’d been hit by a blowtorch. “I dinna have any intention of getting back out there right now.”
Skye’s dark brows drew together. “Why not? You weren’t in love with Brodie, so it’s not like you’re getting over a broken heart.”
For a grand total of three seconds, I considered saying something of the truth. But the more people who knew, the more likely it was to get back to Ewan. And that was not something I wanted to deal with.
“There’s the small matter of lack of available men. Which is what got me into trouble with Brodie to begin with.”
Saoirse made a vague gesture toward the bar, where all of Ewan’s mates were gathered. “Um, excuse me, we’ve had a fresh influx lately. Or have they been working you so hard at Ardinmuir that you hadn’t noticed?”
Pippa absently twirled one of her myriad tiny, beaded braids around one finger. “Have you met them, then?” In some women, such a gesture would’ve come off as coy. In Pippa, it simply served as the closest available fidget toy.
“I have. Did a little business with them.”
“Well, don’t hold back. What are they like?”
Saoirse raised a brow at Skye. “Are you looking to trade Jason in for a beefier model?”
“No. Jason and I are fine, but I like gossip just as much as the next girl. So what are they like?”
“Callum is very gruff and brusque. He takes taciturn to an entirely new level, which I can appreciate in person. We managed to get through my purchase of the old kennels they were tearing out with only about half a dozen sentences. Finley seems to be an irresponsible ass.”
It was my turn to raise a brow. “Based on what?”
Saoirse’s shoulders twitched. “It’s just a feeling. I went over there with my lorry to pick up the kennels I’d bought, and they’d found a kitten. He was quick to say it wasn’t his responsibility. I’ve got no time for people like that.”
I didn’t know Finn beyond having met him a few times. He’d struck me as something of a practical joker. The humor of the team. But I could see how that might rub my very serious friend the wrong way.
“What about the third one?” Pippa asked.
“Ah, Alex.” Saoirse’s lips curved in a smile that made it all the way to her jade green eyes. “He took the kitten. Tucked it right into his pocket after I gave her an exam. I set him up with a starter kit of food and such. If there’s anything sexier than a big, burly man being gentle with a baby animal, I don’t know what it is.”
I felt queasy at the idea of Alex dating someone else. Not like I was going to date him, but I felt physically ill at the idea of any of my friends crossing that line. I couldn’t say a word about it without offering an explanation, so I said nothing. Maybe him getting back out there was the kick in the arse I needed to get over him myself.
“If you think he is such a catch, why don’t you go after him yourself? It’s not like you’ve been exactly burning up the dating circuit since you got up here.”
In the year and a half since Saoirse had moved to Glenlaig, I hadn’t seen her go out with anyone.
“I don’t have time to date. I’m too busy picking up the slack and convincing my grandfather to let me actually run the practice, not just pick up the slack.” She’d initially come to help after he’d been thrown from a horse and broken his hip, and she’d stayed to try to keep him from getting hurt any further by being constantly overextended. “If you don’t want him, maybe Pippa should have a go.”
“Me? What?” She blinked owlishly.
“Oh, I think Pippa’s still holding out for a guy with a sexy southern drawl and a cowboy hat,” I teased. “I didn’t miss how you looked at Raleigh’s friend Zeke when he danced with you at the wedding.”
Raleigh Beaumont was the Texas cowboy who’d won the barony of Lochmara from Afton in a poker game. He’d been the one in the hot seat to marry Kyla because of the three-hundred-year-old marriage pact, or they’d both lose their estates to the crown. But it had all turned out in the end. Raleigh and Kyla were perfect together, and their little girl, Lily, was the cutest wee thing.
Pippa flushed bright enough that it showed in her brown cheeks. “I dinna ken what you’re talking about.”
“Haven’t y’all been emailing, though?” Skye prompted.
“It’s just email. That’s all. He’s addicted to my cheese.”
“Is that a euphemism?” Saoirse asked.
“No!” Pippa’s blush deepened in a way that suggested she’d definitely thought about him being addicted to something other than her cheese.
“Hey, Jason and I started as virtual pen pals, and look where we are now. Cohabitating and co-parenting the world’s sweetest sheepadoodle.”
“Yes, you’re a disgustingly cute couple,” Saoirse sighed. “If you weren’t so damned likable, I’d have to hate you on principle.”
Skye blew her a kiss. “I love you, too. Now, I really don’t have an opinion on this since I am, as you pointed out, already part of a disgustingly cute couple. But I say, if y’all want to date, date. If you don’t want to date, then don’t. Nobody should feel pressured to couple up if that’s not their jam. But I agree with Saoirse that those are some very attractive options now swimming in our tiny dating pool. And that’s all I have to say about that.”
She wasn’t wrong, and that meant that, at some point, Alex was going to date someone else. He’d be taking someone else to bed. Blowing someone else’s mind.
I shoved back from the table. “It’s so crowded, it’ll take forever for Zo to work her way over here. Who wants refills?” I might not sling a tray here anymore, but I could do my former coworker a solid by not adding to her work.
Everyone agreed, so I made my way toward the bar, intent on pulling my own drinks. I spotted Ewan out front with Isobel, making like they were about to leave. Would the party thin out after they headed out? Past experience told me probably not. I still needed a minute, so I changed directions and went to the loo.
When I came back out a few minutes later, I bumped into a solid form. “Oh, sorry, I—” The apology died as I realized it was Alex.
With the distance he’d been keeping, I wasn’t prepared for this, and there was far more bite than civility to my tone when I asked, “What do you want?”
You eejit, he probably wants the loo, same as you.
I was so aware of all the people around and the fact that anyone could see us together. Was it obvious that we used to be lovers?
If my sharp words wounded Alex at all, he didn’t show it. “Look, I know I promised to keep my distance. I just—I hate how things are with us, and I wanted to know if there is anything… anything at all that I can do to make this better?”
“Do you have a time machine in your pocket?” The words were out before I could think better of them.
His hand lifted automatically, covering one side of his chest that I now recognized was… lumpy. And as I stared, it moved.
“What the hell is in your pocket?”
“Just this wee one.” He unzipped his vest and out popped a tiny, furry head. The kitten he’d rescued.
Do not soften. Do not.
“You have a kitten now.”
“Aye. This is Saffron.” He stroked her with one knuckle and the wee beastie pressed into the touch.
I didn’t want to be interested, but damn if Saoirse wasn’t right about big men with tiny animals. “Saffron? Why?”
“Because she’s got a spicy wee personality.”
I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to run one finger over the silky soft orange fur. “She’s very cute. Good luck with that.”
Disengage before this gets any worse.
I stepped back, hardening my resolve. “But I meant what I said, Alex. Stay the hell away from me.”
The flash of pain across his face before I walked away was far less satisfying than I’d hoped. With a nod to Jason, I slipped behind the bar to get our refills. I could only hope that this would be sufficient fortitude to get me through the rest of the night.