Chapter 4 Tierney
Being a little sneaky, I’d had a quick, curious look around the rest of the house.
I’d discovered two rooms down a hallway off the kitchen.
One was a bedroom and had a book on the bedside table and a TV on a cabinet opposite it, so I guessed it was Ramsay’s.
The other room was full of expensive gym equipment, which, gathering from his impressive physique, the man used daily.
I also noted a set of bagpipes propped up against the farthest wall and wondered if Ramsay played.
I’d always liked the bagpipes, but I had friends who couldn’t stand the sound.
When I was a kid, my parents had taken me to Scotland every other summer to visit my grandmother.
My mom was born in Edinburgh and raised in Scotland and had left to attend college in the US.
She’d ended up getting a job after graduation and staying in the States.
One summer, Dad had gotten tickets to the Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo, which was this event on Edinburgh Castle’s esplanade.
Military bands played along with other performers from across the world.
I remembered hearing the drums from the military pipe band and then the wail of the bagpipes before I even saw the musicians.
The sound thrummed through my chest and caused goose bumps to spring to life along my arms and down my spine.
I’d been enthralled by it.
Mom had sat through it with a pained expression. She hated the bagpipes. I didn’t understand it. I didn’t understand why she couldn’t hear what I heard. There was something so mournful and haunting about them, and yet, triumphant and resilient. A strange dichotomy for a musical instrument.
If Ramsay played the pipes … one, it made him hotter than I already thought he was; and two, I wanted to hear him play.
He was such a mystery. A tall, muscular, talented, woodworking, book-reading, hot Scottish hermit of a mystery.
There was no ring on his finger. No sign of a woman or a man or any companion except for Akiva.
That, of course, didn’t mean he was single.
He could have a girlfriend or boyfriend on the island.
Not that I should care.
The man was clearly a bachelor, even if he had a partner out there somewhere.
And I was pretty sure by the way he dismissed me earlier, he found me annoying.
Around six o’clock, I was three quarters of the way through my romance book, which was way too steamy for me to be consuming in my current situation. The last thing I needed was being turned on while trapped on an island with my sexy yeti.
I heard his footsteps on the porch first so I’d lowered my book to watch him stride into his house.
A house I’d made myself at home in.
I had my legs stretched out on his sectional and Akiva was asleep across my lap. My eyes met Ramsay’s as he stepped inside. He took in his dog. I felt the tension in Akiva’s body, like she was trying to decide if saying hello to her owner was worth giving up my comfy lap.
“Thrown over so easily,” Ramsay murmured, amusement in his pale beautiful eyes. “I’ll remember that.”
As if she understood, Akiva suddenly jumped off me and the couch, hurrying over to greet her dad.
He lowered to his haunches, scratching behind her ears while murmuring affectionate words.
Attraction rippled in my belly as I watched this tender side of him.
In fact, the level of attraction really was ridiculous considering how little I knew about Ramsay.
“Do you play the bagpipes?” I blurted out.
Ramsay turned to me, his piercing gaze still surprising, knocking the breath right out of me. Slowly, he stood from petting Akiva. “Been snooping, Silver?”
My cheeks flushed because I had been. I also might have grown hot at the familiar use of my surname as a nickname. “They’re right there.” I gestured to the other side of the room where I knew the bagpipes laid.
“Aye, I play.”
“Where? When?” I got up off the couch to follow him into the kitchen. I kept the island between us as he opened the refrigerator.
“Pipe band. Quinn’s in it too.”
Which meant I might get to watch and hear Ramsay play. “Do you play locally?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes at events on the mainland. Why?” He glanced over his shoulder.
“I like the pipes. My mom was Scottish, and we’d visit my grandmother in Edinburgh every other summer. After my first Tattoo, I made my dad take me every time we visited my gran.”
“Sounds like you have Scotland in your blood. In more ways than one.”
“Yeah.”
“Dinner?” he asked abruptly.
In answer, my stomach gave a rumble of approval. “Sure. Thanks. I really appreciate your hospitality.”
He grunted in response.
Thirty minutes later, I sat across from Ramsay at his dining table eating the basic pasta dish he’d thrown together. It was far from a culinary masterpiece. Now that I was pretty sure he found me annoying, I felt self-conscious and remembered to keep my questions to myself.
It was interesting because growing up the way I had, I’d become a pretty confident person. The last time I remembered feeling self-conscious was when I was thirteen. It was the first time a boy kissed me and I’d agonized over if I was any good at it.
I’d barely taken a bite of the bland pasta when I felt Ramsay’s attention on me.
Looking up, sure enough, Ramsay searched my face.
“What?”
“You’re quiet.”
“Am I? Do you know me well enough to ascertain that quiet isn’t my usual mode?”
“Our earlier interaction suggests otherwise.”
I frowned.
“I’m not suggesting you’re overly talkative, Silver. You just … are less so than before.”
Silver. Why was him calling me by my surname so hot?
“I’m already imposing. Just trying to stay out of your way as much as possible before it’s safe to cross back to Leth Sholas.”
We ate in silence for a bit after that and I tried not to be hurt by Ramsay’s lack of response or denial that I was imposing or needed to stay out of his way.
“So … you really plan to stay here permanently?” Ramsay asked out of nowhere. “You’re not planning to move on once the B and B is up and running? Leave someone else to manage it?”
“No.” I frowned. “Why? Is that what people think?”
He shrugged. “I think we think you don’t know what island life is like. It’ll be hard for someone who has had every convenience at her fingertips.”
Irritation heated my skin. “You got used to it. You’re not an islander by birth.”
“No. But I was in the military. I know life without convenience.”
Anger overtook my irritation. So that was his problem, huh? He thought he had me pegged. Just like everyone else.
Spoiled little rich girl playing dress-up with a building on Glenvulin. That I’d get bored and go running back to my life as it was before.
Well, news flash.
That life no longer fucking existed.
“If I can get up every day and move through a world in which my parents are dead, I can go without having designer stores and fancy restaurants at my fingertips.” I shoved a forkful of pasta in my mouth before I told him to go fuck himself.
Tense silence thrummed between us.
“I didn’t mean to insult you,” Ramsay finally offered.
“No?” I cocked my head, smirking unhappily at him. “Or was it more that you didn’t think I would recognize the insult?”
Something gleamed in his eyes. “Fair enough.” He studied me for a second too long, making it difficult for me to catch my breath. What was it about this man? Even annoyed at him, I was hot and bothered. “Did you finish your book?”
Taken aback by the question, it took me a second to respond. “Almost.”
“Did … she enjoy all of her neighbors?”
At the seriousness with which he asked, I couldn’t help but laugh.
Ramsay flashed me a quick grin and there went my breath catching again.
I wanted to see him smile like that without the bushy beard.
It crinkled the corners of his eyes in the sexiest way.
“Yes,” I answered primly, lips straining against amusement. “She thoroughly enjoyed all three neighbors, and they thoroughly enjoyed her in return. They are currently being typical dickheads at this point in the book, but I expect copious amounts of groveling in the next few chapters.”
“Groveling?” He frowned incredulously.
“Oh yeah, it’s hot. I love a good grovel.” At his bemusement, I grinned and gestured to his books behind me. “You have quite the library. Though I’m guessing there are no Why Choose Romance novels on those shelves.”
“No, there aren’t.” He shook his head, staring past me to the books. “I inherited them.”
“Have you read them all?”
“Not all. But I’ve made a dent.”
“How old are you?” The question was out before I could stop it. I flushed.
Ramsay quirked an eyebrow. “How old do you think I am?”
Hearing the teasing in his tone, I relaxed ever so slightly. “Midthirties?”
“Forty.”
That surprised me. I knew he was older than me, but I didn’t know he was thirteen years older.
I wasn’t usually attracted to older men.
But now I didn’t know why because this man was more man than I’d ever encountered in my life.
“I’m twenty-seven,” I replied to have something to say so I didn’t blurt out how sexy I found him.
“I know.” He chewed on another bite of pasta and looked down at Akiva who sat by his chair, eyes round with begging. “No, sweetheart. You’ll get something later.”
He called his dog sweetheart.
This man was trying to kill me.
“What’s your favorite book?” I asked, changing the subject.
Ramsay took one last massive bite, chewed while not quite meeting my eyes, and stood. Finally he said, “Dunno.” He dumped his plate in the sink. “Just put your plate here when you’re finished. I’ll be in my workshop if you need me. I’ll be back at eleven to take you over.”
The man was gone before I was finished gaping in astonishment at his abrupt departure.
I looked at Akiva, and she stared back at me expectantly. “Has he always been the human version of whiplash?”
I could have sworn Akiva gave me a commiserating jerk of her snout.
Sure enough, Ramsay stayed away for the rest of the evening.
Bored, I’d washed and dried the dishes. I’d also gone out to ask about Akiva’s dinner and Ramsay hadn’t even looked up from the rocking chair when he provided me with her feeding instructions.
The rest of the night, Akiva and I lazed on the couch.
I finished my book (there was a good grovel) and then I ran the battery down on my phone playing solitaire until my eyes blurred.
I tried to connect to the internet because according to my phone, there was a network.
But it was private so I couldn’t connect without a password.
A thorough search of the house revealed no router so I could only assume my phone was picking up networks from Leth Sholas.
How Ramsay survived over here without the internet, I did not know.
Connection on the island wasn’t the strongest, but it did the job.
Here on Stòr, there was nothing. How did people contact Ramsay?
How did he work with clients when he was so unreachable?
Other than the VHF radio, the man had no way of communicating with people from his island.
I, of course, wanted to ask him about it, but I was still stung by the way he’d walked out after dinner. There was being a man of mystery and then there was just being a dick.
By ten fifty I had my backpack together and I’d already hugged Akiva goodbye. I stepped out onto the porch, car keys at the ready, and stopped, contemplating letting Ramsay know I was leaving. Despite his rudeness, he had let me stay in his house and he’d fed me. He wasn’t all bad.
Sighing, I moved along the lighted porch toward the barn and startled to a stop when the tall Scot stepped out of his workshop. He took long strides toward me. “Ready?”
“Yeah, I was going to let you know I was leaving.”
“I’ll follow you.”
“Really, there’s no need. You’ve done enough.”
“I’ll follow you,” he said, his tone brokering no argument as he brushed by me on the porch. His earthy, musky scent caused this weird fluttering in my chest. “Just let me grab my keys.”
Stubborn yeti.
I made my way down to my car, eyes wide in the dark.
I was barely in it when Ramsay reappeared again, Akiva at his heels.
They jumped into his Defender with ease, and I did a three-point turn, driving out of the woodlands first. It took me a second in the dark to remember where I was supposed to turn, but thankfully, I made the correct choice.
I had a feeling Ramsay already thought I was a useless nepo baby (and was now concerned the town did too), I didn’t want him thinking I was also directionally challenged.
Ramsay kept close behind me, his headlights kind of glaring, actually. But I made it to the causeway. There was still a little water but not enough to stop me from driving right onto it.
I frowned at the sight of Ramsay following me across.
Where the hell was he going?
Leth Sholas was quiet at this time of night.
The only commercial building lit up was the volunteer lifeboat service building at the end of the main harbor road.
There was no parking on the harbor front, other than in the designated tourist parking lots, so I drove down a side street that led me to the back of the apartment block that overlooked Half-Light Harbor.
I was renting a guest apartment from Aodhan MacDuff, one of the local councilmen and property owners.
He had quite a few rental properties across Glenvulin.
Parking was tight behind the apartment, but my spot was empty. Even with the beam of Ramsay’s headlights trying to fluster me, I swung the Suzuki around and reversed back into the space. Ramsay’s Defender sat in the entrance of the parking lot.
Hmm.
Getting out of the vehicle, I grabbed my backpack and gave him a wave as I hurried across the small lot to the back entrance.
I fumbled with my key, but as soon as I opened the door, the headlights dimmed, and I watched as Ramsay reversed out.
He paused suddenly, but I couldn’t see him beyond the glare of his lights.
Realization dawned.
He wasn’t leaving until I was safely inside.
Huh.
I darted into the building and locked the door behind me.
A mystery.
The man was a mystery wrapped up in well over six feet of delicious manliness.
Yes, he had been a dick.
But he was also kind of not.
That night, Ramsay McRae consumed my thoughts as I lay in bed trying to sleep. I hadn’t mooned over a guy like this since I was seventeen years old.
Oh my god.
I clapped a hand to my forehead in embarrassment.
I had a crush.
A girly, stupid crush.
“Kill me now,” I groaned, rolling over onto my side and pulling the covers tightly around me.