Chapter 25 Summer
TWENTY-FIVE
SUMMER
Iwake up snuggled up against a giant teddy bear. I breathe in the warm scent of firewood and man, happily replaying memories of my dream. Something about two men and a fireplace. I’m halfway back to sleep when the teddy bear groans, pulling me closer, and my eyes fly open.
It’s not a teddy bear. It’s Fraser.
Oh. My. God.
It wasn’t a dream. I had a threesome last night.
That’s it. This is the peak of my life. It’s never going to get any better than this.
“I know you’re awake,” Fraser says into my hair, sounding amused. “I can hear your brain fizzing.”
I beam at him. He looks adorably sleepy, his eyes hazy and his auburn hair mussed.
“I had a three-way,” I whisper.
“No way,” he says in mock shock. “So did I!”
I roll over, climbing on top of his muscled chest. He practically purrs, his hands coming up to squeeze my waist. “And it was amazing,” I squawk.
“So was mine!”
“It was so good I thought I might die.”
He laughs, pulling me into a hug. “You are the cutest thing,” he says. “I’m glad it was good for you, baby. It was certainly a night I’ll never forget.”
I snuggle into him, sighing happily. I can hear birds cheeping outside, and wind sweeping across the farm. “Cameron didn’t stay?”
“Nah. He’s not a cuddler.”
I suppose I can’t get too greedy. I tuck my face into the crook of Fraser’s neck, but before I can settle, my phone starts to blare an alarm on the side table.
Fraser groans as I roll over him to grab it, getting my boobs in his face. “You have so many alarms.”
I shiver as he kisses my cleavage tiredly, his stubble scraping me. “I’m on a lot of birth control,” I joke.
“Aye, probably for the best.”
I slump back down at his side and swipe my phone screen.
“No, it’s an app I use to help me stay organised.
” I show him. “I set a reminder for when I have to do something, and then I have to take a picture of the thing before it will turn the alarm off. I can snooze it or reschedule it, but it won’t turn off until I take the picture.
Stops me from just dismissing the alarm and not thinking of it again.
” Right now, the alert is telling me to take my meds. I can reschedule it for half an hour.
“Nice,” Fraser says, chin on my shoulder.
I nod. “It keeps me on track. I have ADHD, so it’s easy for me to get absolutely avalanched with work. And as soon as I’m a bit behind, I get really overwhelmed.” And then everything falls apart.
“Aye, I’m not surprised.” Fraser cranes his neck, nosily looking through my alarms. “These are all for today? Jesus.”
I blink. I suppose there are a lot of things I have to do today.
I need to edit a clothing haul. Film a review and a PR unboxing.
I’m scheduled to do some Picturegram stories, and I have a ton of sponsorship contracts I need to get through.
“It’s not like it’s hard work. I’m not doing heart surgery. ”
He’s frowning. “Aye, but it’s still a lot. Don’t you get tired?”
Before I can answer, I hear clattering and raised voices from the kitchen. My stomach falls.
Oh God. Alec. I bet he heard us all last night. What is he going to think of me? Technically, I did do what he asked. Sort of. Cameron and Fraser aren’t fighting anymore. I’m not sure he’ll appreciate my methods though.
Fraser’s chest swells with a sigh. “They’re at it early today,” he notes.
“They argue a lot,” I say carefully.
“You noticed?”
“It would be hard not to.” Honestly, the relationship between Alec and Cameron is…weird. They obviously care about each other. I remember Cameron’s hand on Alec’s face when he brought me in from the storm. But they can’t seem to talk without getting mad at each other.
“They’ve been worse since you’ve been here,” Fraser admits.
“Oh no. Is it me?”
He shakes his head. “No, no. Something happened. Five years ago.”
“Ah,” I say when he doesn’t elaborate. “Interesting.” I stretch. “Hmm.”
His mouth quirks. “Want to know the story?”
“I couldn’t possibly ask you to gossip about your friends—”
“Since you begged, I shall tell you,” he says, pulling me back on his chest. “It might…help you understand them a wee bit better.” He’s silent for a few moments, like he’s trying to find the words.
“It was five years ago. Alec was running the farm with his father, who, I will remind you, was an absolute bawbag.”
“What does that mean?”
“Scrotum.”
“Ah, yes.”
He squeezes my hip. “It was the anniversary of Alec’s mum’s death, and his dad was being a real shite.
He’d spent the whole day just…going at Alec.
Giving him a million things to do and then telling him he’d messed them up.
By the end of the day, it was obvious Alec was about to lose his head, so Cameron told him to go down the pub.
Alec never skives off, but that night, he was so fed up, he did. ”
I nod. Fraser fiddles with a bit of my hair.
“A storm rolled in a few hours later. Bad one. Big enough to fell trees. And Mr Gray decided that he wanted to move the forage harvester Alec left out in the fields. It’s a big machine for cutting crops. Weighs about fifteen tonnes.”
I can see where this is going. “Oh no.”
He nods. “So Alec’s down in the village, planning to crash with Isla overnight. Mr Gray calls him, demanding he come back to help him move the harvester. Alec tells him no, that it’s a suicide mission, and turns off his phone. And Mr Gray, in all his wisdom, goes out and does it himself.”
My mouth falls open. “No.”
“Aye,” he says grimly. “Cameron ran out to help him, but the harvester ended up tipping in the wind. Crushed ’em both.”
I sit up. “Oh my God.”
“By the time Alec got there, Mr Gray was already dead. And Cam was trapped under the machine—his leg was all crunched up. Alec cut his hands to shreds trying to pull it off him.”
I remember the scars on Cameron’s leg last night. The lines crossing Alec’s palms. A shudder runs through me.
Fraser sighs. “Been five years since then. Alec paid for all of Cameron’s surgeries and physios and the like.
But Cameron’s leg didn’t heal right. And the longer he’s in pain, the worse Alec feels.
Which Cameron hates. It’s driven this wedge between them.
Don’t know why they can’t just talk about it. ”
“That’s so horrific,” I whisper. “But…it wasn’t Alec’s fault, right?”
“Nah. But he blames himself for everything. Always has.” Fraser traces a finger over my cheek. “Sorry. This is not a fun morning story.”
I just shake my head. “And what about you?”
“Me? Wasn’t here. I was off visiting Rosie. My sister.”
“No, I mean, the situation is hard for you too, right? You don’t like when they argue.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “I’m worried Cameron will end up leaving if Alec doesn’t get his head together,” he says eventually. “It’s silly, but we’ve been together forever. I want us all to stay here.”
“It’s not silly. They’re your family.”
He offers me a tired smile. “Aye, they are.” He pecks my cheek. “C’mon. Enough sad stories. I want to see how awkward Cameron is the morning after. I have a feeling he will be adorable.”
Getting dressed poses an issue. My one pair of leggings desperately needs a wash, and everything else I packed is highly inappropriate for a farm.
If I get my hands on some sewing supplies, I’ll be able to alter some of the clothes I bought in Dalbrae to fit me; but for now, I think I have to just suck it up.
I get changed into a pencil skirt and a beige blouse sent by one of my sponsors.
I take my meds and head into the kitchen.
Alec has thankfully left. Cameron is frying something on the hob.
He’s leaning against the counter, taking the weight off his leg.
I think of him running out into a storm even though he knew he could get injured, and my heart aches. He might be grumpy, but he’s obviously such a good person.
I sidle up to him. “Good morning. You’re cooking breakfast?” There are eggs, bacon, muffins, chocolate-chip pancakes. “Wow. So much food.”
He doesn’t look at me, just flips an egg. I reach over for the coffee jug, and his entire body freezes as my boob accidentally brushes his wrist.
“Summer,” he grits out. “Sit. Down.”
I’m hurt. He looks mad. Why is he mad at me?
Fraser nabs a pancake. “Aw, mate, for us? You do take care of us.”
Cameron bats him away. “Make her sit,” he says roughly. “Now.”
“Summer,” Fraser says solemnly. “You must sit. I am making you.”
“Oh-kay.” I let him wrap his arm around my shoulders and lead me to the sofa.
“Told you,” he says in my ear. “Awkward as hell. Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay?” It doesn’t feel great that the guy I slept with last night won’t look me in the eye. Fraser settles me on the couch, and Cameron brings over two plates of steaming food.
“Eat,” he orders, handing them to both of us and crossing his arms. I take a bite of pancake. “Good?” he asks roughly.
“It’s delicious, thank you!”
He nods. “And do you—” He clears his throat. “Do you feel okay? After last night?”
I’m not sure what he means. “Yes?”
“You’re not…” His cheeks redden. “You’re not…sore, or upset, or anything?”
Oh. I glance at Fraser, who’s giving me an I-told-you-so look. Cameron does care. He’s just very, very awkward. “Oh no, I feel great.”
Cameron’s shoulders loosen slightly. “Good,” he mutters.
“I’m not sore or upset either,” Fraser announces, inhaling a sausage. “Not that anyone asked.”
Cameron turns to go back to the kitchen. “Wait,” I call. “Won’t you eat with us?”
Cameron is still for a moment. Then he picks up his plate and joins us. I beam, leaning against his side.
We all eat breakfast squashed on the sofa together. It’s slightly awkward with Cameron sitting ramrod straight and tense as a board, but I am fast becoming a fan of being sandwiched by warm muscle.
The only thing ruining it is my blouse. I’d originally packed it for a photo op, not to wear casually. The lace is scratchy, and I can feel the collar pulling too tight around my throat. I try to tug at it as I eat, but it keeps digging in. I squirm uncomfortably.
Cameron’s hand clamps on my knee. “Why are you moving?”
“Sorry.” I force myself to stay still. My body is suddenly buzzing with energy, and my entire awareness is focused on the tightness around my neck.
Cameron puts down his fork. “You’re uncomfortable,” he mutters. “I knew it. We were too hard on you last night—”
“It’s not you,” I say quickly. “It’s this shirt. It’s adorable, but, like, a sensory nightmare.”
“A wha’?” Fraser asks around a mouthful of eggs.
“Some clothes really bother me, I guess? It’s quite common for people with ADHD. Our brains aren’t always as good at tuning sensory stuff out. Like, I can be talking to you, but ninety percent of my brainpower is being used up by the feeling of this collar on my neck.”
Fraser makes a curious noise.
I nod, babbling. “I don’t like loud noises either.
Or sometimes, it really bothers me if a room is too bright.
It all just gets overwhelming. It’s part of why I got into sewing, actually.
If I ever started my own line, everything would be lined with soft fabric, and the label info would be printed directly on the inside. ”
Maybe I can ask Icons Only about it, if I land the deal. But they probably won’t give me that much control.
Cameron is frowning. “Why wear the shirt if it hurts you?” he asks slowly.
“Oh, it doesn’t hurt. It’s just irritating. Stresses me out a bit.”
“Why wear it?” he repeats.
“Because…it’s my job. People pay me to wear their clothes.”
“No one’s watching you right now,” he points out.
“Yeah, but I didn’t pack many comfies. I thought I’d be taking pictures all week, so I brought mostly photoshoot outfits. It’s fine, really.” I smile at him, fighting not to fidget.
He looks at me. “You get irritated by uncomfortable clothes,” he says. “And you didn’t pack anything comfortable.”
“I didn’t want to bring a second suitcase! And I had to bring a ton of clothes for pictures.”
His lips press together. “Take it off,” he orders.
“What?”
“Take your top off.”
I look around. Alec’s nowhere to be seen. Slowly, I unbutton the blouse and slip it off. Cameron unceremoniously tosses it to the floor.
“Great,” I say. “I’ll just be naked all day then.”
Cameron stands and heads down the corridor to his room. A minute later, he returns, holding a soft-looking grey sweater. “Put it on.”
I obediently slip into the jumper and almost shiver with pleasure. It feels like a cloud against my skin. “Oh my God, this is the best jumper ever,” I gush. “I never knew wool could be so soft. It’s usually too itchy for me.”
“Scottish Merino blended with cashmere. Soft as we can get it.” He sits and picks up his plate again.
“I’ll find you some of our clothes to wear.
Our trousers will drown you, but shirts and jumpers should be fine.
You’ll tell me if they’re irritating.” His frown deepens.
“I’ll try to find the soft stuff. And you need some proper shoes. ”
“You don’t have to!” I say. “I really am fine.”
Cameron opts to completely ignore me, taking a bite of eggs. I look at Fraser, wide-eyed.
Adorable, he mouths at me, and I nod emphatically, cuddling into the jumper and picking up my fork.
We finish the rest of the meal in silence. I’m almost done eating when I hear “Milkshake” playing faintly. It’s Lulu’s ringtone. I pat around myself and realise I left my phone in the guest room.
“What is that music?” Cameron grumbles.
I give him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, let me just get that.” I scamper back to the guest room and answer the phone call. “Hey, Lulu—”
“I hate them,” she spits.
I sit down on the bed, stroking the sleeve of Cameron’s jumper. “Um, okay.”
“Don’t worry. I’m working on a plan to fix this. Why weren’t you answering my texts? Did you sleep in?”
“What are you talking about? Fix what?”
“You haven’t seen?” She sounds shocked. “What were you doing all night?”
“Well,” I start, “since you asked. You know I was talking about my Airbnb host—”
“Summer, focus, okay? Someone wrote an article about you. It’s bad.”