Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
GAVIN
Callie and I make it home not too long after Rory left, and we find his snowmobile waiting in front of my house.
“Who’s that?” she asks, glancing from the vehicle to me. “The doctor?”
I don’t love the reminder of how she sees Rory, so wonderful and capable. She knows his name. She could use it. “Aye. Likely needs a word with me.”
I knew he did. He’d called me a few times while I was working on the boiler, but my hands were busy. The look he gave me was telling. It’s why we got out of there so fast, but Elephant and Piggie need to be put away first.
“Douglas seems lonely.”
I laugh. “He isn’t.”
She dismounts and takes Piggie’s reins to lead her into the barn. “How do you know?”
“The man’s social calendar is more full than mine.”
Callie stops walking, but Piggie doesn’t. The horse passes her, knowing exactly where she’s supposed to go. “That Grinch of a man?”
“He grumbles here and there, but he’s not all that bad.”
Callie pops a hand on her hip. “We did not speak to the same man today, evidently.”
She helps me remove the horses’ saddles and hang up the tack, then brushes them down. It’s not a quick process, but we move through it smoothly together. It must be like riding a bike in some ways, because Callie made it clear it’s been a while since she’s ridden, yet she was a natural.
I don’t know if Rory is here because he needs something or because he’s bored and wants to meet Callie, but either way, he’s waiting in my house right now.
“This might be sacrilegious since I’m standing on British soil, but you don’t happen to have hot chocolate, do you?”
I shoot her a glance over my shoulder as we trudge across the snow-covered lawn toward the house. Frigid air bites at my skin, making it feel tight and dry. “Sacrilegious?”
“Don’t you guys worship tea?”
Americans are so odd. “I think I have some, aye. We do appreciate chocolate too.”
“Oh, trust me. I know,” she says with feeling.
“Is that another thing we’ve done right?”
“Cadbury, my good man,” she says with a horrid attempt at an English accent.
A laugh escapes from my chest. “Ah yes. The Curly Wurly.”
“That’s just the beginning,” she mutters.
I push open the back door and stomp the snow from my boots before toeing them off near the bench. Callie does the same and follows me into the living room in her borrowed wool socks.
Rory is sitting on the sofa, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, his boots waiting near the door. When he sees us, he rises, smiling at Callie. “Hello again.”
Well, that’s enough of that. “How’s Rhona?”
“She’s sprained her wrist.”
I suck in a breath through my teeth. Given the enormity of her job and responsibilities, this is not good. Combine that with her stubborn nature, and we’re all in for a world of fun. “How bad is it then?”
“Mild to moderate. Time will tell, but I imagine it won’t be healed for six weeks or so.”
“I’ll head over there and sort a schedule.”
Rory nods. “Thought you might. Between us, we can find a solution.”
“Not to be nosy,” Callie says, “but is there a reason this sprained wrist is a big deal?”
“Rhona won’t be able to feed and care for all of her animals without help,” Rory says.
“Oh.” Callie nods. “You guys are like Avengers, you know that? A storm comes in, and you go out like Captain Scotland and Highland Hulk and care for all the neighbors who need help. Fixing broken pipes and lighting boilers and feeding animals. It’s like a Lifetime movie.”
Rory glances at me, the slightest lift to his eyebrows, and internally I’m begging him not to say anything. My face is probably screaming the words “don’t give me away.” I really don’t want Callie to get the lowdown on me, nor on why my friends take turns checking in on me every single day.
He clears his throat. “We take care of each other around here.”
Bless that man.
“Want to stay for some hot chocolate?” I ask.
Rory looks at Callie and hesitation plays over his face, sending a twinge of jealousy through me that is entirely unwarranted.
But it makes me wish I hadn’t extended the invitation.
The man is my best mate and a total catch.
If he was to hit it off with this woman, I should be happy for him, not regretting the fact they’ve now met.
Not that it matters. She doesn’t live here.
She’s going to be on the other side of the world again in just a few weeks.
Given how casually Callie looks at physical relationships, I’m not sure I love seeing any sort of connection between the two of them.
Rory is as casual as she is. It isn’t a promising combination.
“I’d better not.” Rory gestures toward the front door. “I should return to my rounds.”
“In this weather?” Callie asks.
“That’s what the snowmobile is for.” He gives her a wide grin. “I hope we see you at the party. Angus is working on the roads now, so it shouldn’t be too bad by this afternoon.”
“Doesn’t he have a bad hip?”
We both look at Callie. How does she know that?
“Yes. But he can still drive,” I say.
Rory looks slightly bewildered as he makes his way to the door to pull on his boots again. “Cheers.”
We watch him leave. “Nice guy,” Callie says.
That jealousy surges again, like a hot wave climbing through my chest. I need to go roll in the snow and douse it at once. Why am I acting like a child? I sweep past her to go into the kitchen. “He’s a good man.”
Now I need to say three positive things about Rory to cancel out the jealousy, don’t I? Is that the appropriate penance for wishing your best friend wasn’t as great as he is?
“Grand, really,” I continue, looking through the cupboard for the hot cocoa mix.
“Yeah,” she follows me into the kitchen and leans against the counter, hands resting on the edge of it behind her. “He seems like it.”
Okay, this isn’t helping. I’m going to choose not to pursue this conversation, and I’m actively going to choose not to analyze why I care so much about it.
I’m the one who stopped the kiss that night.
I’m the one who pushed her away. I don’t get to act jealous that she said a few minor friendly things about my eligible doctor mate.
I’m actually losing my mind.
But hey, there’s the cannister of hot chocolate. I set milk to simmer on the stove and reach behind Callie for two mugs. Her shampoo smells fresh and faintly floral.
“At home we dip toast in our hot chocolate,” she says.
“Strange.”
“Don’t knock it before you try it.”
“If I do, will you open the Irn Bru?”
She wrinkles her nose. “That orange soda that looks like it should be illegal?”
“Aye.”
“Fine. We can have it with…lunch tomorrow.”
“Deal.” I start a few slices of toast while Callie pulls out two plates and the butter. We work well together, I’ve noticed.
“How long have you known Rory?”
“My entire life.”
“Is he married?”
I almost drop the milk before I can pour it into the mug. “No.”
“Single?” she asks.
“Why? Are you going to try to kiss him, too?”
Callie scoffs. “Of course not!”
I lift one eyebrow, and she scowls at me.
“Fine.” She sighs. “My track record isn’t great. But that’s none of your business, is it?”
“Reckon it’ll be my business when you break his heart and leave.”
“First, he’s an adult. Second, glad to know you think so low of me. Third, I’m not planning on kissing anyone.”
I finish putting together the hot cocoa and carry our mugs to the table. Guilt pecks at me. Think so low of her? Impossible. I don’t even know her. Not well, at least.
When she carries the toast over, I wait for her to put the plates down, then stop her. “I don’t think low of you. It was a daft joke.”
Her eyes dance all over my face, like she’s trying desperately to read my expression. She must believe me, because the tightness leaves her eyes. “Okay.”
But when I dip the toast in the hot cocoa and take a bite, I have to admit it isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever had.
Not the best, either, but I don’t have to admit that out loud.
Instead, I listen to Callie tell me all about her best friend Bekah and the restaurant they work at together and the professor Bekah’s dating who makes really good chocolate chip cookies. She’s animated as she talks, and I find that I could probably sit and listen to her stories all day.
“So, tell me about Rhona. How are you going to get her to accept help?”
“Show up in the morning and do the chores before she can,” I say around a bite.
Callie nods to herself. “I figured as much.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s the kind of guy you are.”
Something warm spreads through me, and it has nothing to do with the hot cocoa.
There are three ugly Christmas jumpers in my closet, and Callie chooses the green one with red sleeves and a giant reindeer on the front.
It’s a particular favorite of mine since actual bells hang from many of its antlers.
I’ll hear her coming all night. It’s too big on her, baggy around her arms and hanging over her leggings.
Something about seeing her in my jumper sets off a primal response in me, though. I like it far too much.
Which is saying something after she spit the Irn Bru out once it hit her tongue. I was actually mopping orange fizzy juice off my floor for this woman during lunch today.
Her short hair has been curled, and she’s walking around in a cloud of something heavenly, so I think she decided to use perfume.
I don’t know what it smells like. I’m a man.
But if I had to describe it, I would say she smells like sunshine over a snowy glen or a good snog on a comfortable sofa.
I could go for either one of those right now.
Rory was right about the roads. I shoveled a path out of my driveway earlier in the afternoon, so we make it to Katie’s little cottage tucked at the end of the High Street without incident.
Music bleeds to the street before we reach the house, and I already regret agreeing to bring Callie.
This group isn’t the typical mix she’s likely expecting.