Chapter 5
Our local pub is part of a gorgeous hotel and restaurant here on North Uist. It's my favorite seafood restaurant in Scotland. We supply them with the bulk of their seafood, so I know what we eat tonight will be fresh. Should I be splurging like this when I have a kitchen to rebuild? Probably not. Are the guys and their loyalty worth it? One thousand percent, yes.
As the hostess seats us, I look around at the guys, wondering what I did to deserve them. Why are they choosing to stay when they have nowhere to live, and money will be scarce? I haven't even thought about what it will be like having all five of them living in my house long-term. If I'm being honest, I'm not upset about having the opportunity to find out. I have three years of pent-up feelings to work through, and if yesterday was any indication, some of them may have the same problem. We can finally get everything out in the open, for good or bad.
"Are you doing okay?" Spencer asks, reaching under the table and squeezing my leg, his calloused fingers brushing against the inside of my knee.
I want to cover his hand with mine and drag it between my legs. I clear my throat, ignoring my sky-rocketing pulse. "Yeah. I'm good." I glance over at him, and the second our eyes meet, I can't fucking look away. A lock of dirty blonde hair has fallen over his forehead, partially obstructing his steel-blue eyes. The two-day-old scruff on his cheeks adds a mysterious edge to the smile pulling at his lips.
"Thanks for asking," I say breathlessly, looking away. I pick up a langoustine and de-shell it, terrified that if I meet his gaze, he'll be able to see what I'm thinking.
"So, what's the plan, Boss?" Archer asks, taking a bite of butter-drenched shrimp.
I'm like a deer in headlights as I watch him lick the butter from his lips, his gaze burrowing into my soul like he knows exactly what's going through my head. His smirk all but confirms it.
I don't answer right away. I take my time dipping my langoustine in butter, meeting Archer's gaze as I take a bite.
"I'll have to go into town and get a permit tomorrow," I say, watching his eyes darken as I lick the butter from my fingers. "Do any of you happen to have building experience?"
Spencer and Jaime raise their hands.
"Perfect. Can the two of you make some sketches so I can turn them into the building inspector? Once they're approved, we can get a supply list going and order everything."
"No problem," Jamie murmurs, his gaze glued to my lips, making me self-conscious.
"Do I have something on my face?" I ask him, wiping my mouth with my napkin.
"No. I'm just not used to seeing you like this. Sorry if I was staring." He smiles, his eyes crinkling, not embarrassed in the least.
"Okay, well, once the supplies are delivered, I'm going to order new appliances, which hopefully will arrive as we finish getting everything built."
"What about the bunkhouse?" Liam asks, tipping his chair back onto two legs.
"If all of you are okay with it, the bunkhouse will be the last thing we rebuild. I want to get the restaurant back up and running as soon as possible so we have some money coming in. Does anyone have any objections?" I look around the table at them, biting my lip to hold in my smile as all five vigorously shake their heads. "Okay. Good. That's our plan, then. Spencer and Jamie, you guys will stay with me tomorrow. The rest of you can take out the boat. Once the materials come in, we'll put the fishing on hold so all six of us can work on rebuilding the kitchen.
"Wouldn't it be better to hire a contractor?" Archer asks, the sole voice of reason at the table.
"It would, but that's not exactly in the budget."
"What about your brother?" he asks.
"What about him, Archer?"
"You know Lach would have a crew down here tomorrow if you told him what happened."
"I'm not asking him for money." I refuse to ask for help when I know I'm perfectly capable of figuring it out on my own.
"It's okay to ask for help, Nel."
"If you don't want to help, just say so." I snap my mouth closed before I say something I'll regret.
Archer throws his hands up in a sign of surrender. "Fine. But you know he'll be upset when he finds out what happened."
"That's for me to worry about."
Archer clenches his jaw, jerking off his glasses and scrubbing his hands over his face before downing his beer in several large gulps, frustration rolling off him in waves.
I pull my credit card out of my pocket and slap it on the table. "You guys finish up. I'm going for a walk on the beach to clear my head." I stand up and walk away before they can protest. This isn't the first time Archer and I have butted heads, and it definitely won't be the last. It's hard to stay mad when I know he's only looking out for me.
The wind whips around me as I make my way down the path to the beach. I smooth my hair out of my face, wondering for the hundredth time what I was thinking when I cut it all off a month ago. It's not even to my shoulders now, and I still can't pull it into a ponytail. It's the absolute bane of my existence.
"Hey! Wait up!" Liam's voice carries on the wind, that Australian accent bringing a smile to my lips.
I stop, waiting for him to catch up. "You didn't need to follow me, Liam. I wanted you guys to finish eating."
"I wasn't hungry anymore."
Well, that's a damn lie. He's always hungry.
"How are you really feeling?" he asks softly, walking beside me.
"Devastated," I answer honestly, too exhausted to come up with a better answer.
"Fuck, Penny." He grabs my wrist, pulling me toward him and wrapping his arms around me, squeezing tight. "I'm so sorry."
I squeeze him back, my cheek against his chest, breathing in leather and sandalwood.
"We'll build it back better than it was," he promises, his lips moving against my hair.
I close my eyes, basking in the comfort and intimacy of the moment. "I know," I whisper, my voice breaking, tears leaking from my eyes. I'm stronger than this, damnit.
He leans back, cupping my face in his hands and wiping away my tears with his thumbs. "Chin up, Buttercup."
I give him a watery smile, my eyes drifting down to his lips before I pull away and continue walking to the beach. He grabs my hand, threading his fingers through mine.
That simple touch has my entire body lighting up like a goddamn Christmas tree. I glance over at him, his hat casting half of his face in shadow, his bottom lip caught in those straight white teeth. God, the man is fine. He turns toward me suddenly, his gaze roaming over my face.
"Penny, I?—"
"Incoming!"
That's the only warning we get before Sammy barrels into me like a freight train, scooping me into his arms and running toward the water.