Chapter 14
Fourteen
CALLIE
T he houses on the development were spaced out across the large parcel of land so if Fyfe wanted to, he never had to talk to his neighbors. One of his new neighbors, I’d discovered, was Aunt Ally’s cousin-in-law, Sarah, and her husband. My mum was heading over there to help set up for their daughter Rose’s fourth birthday, so she’d dropped me off at Fyfe’s. I knew Sarah and Theo split their time between Gairloch and London, but it looked like they were putting more permanent roots down in Ardnoch too.
When we were younger, I used to tease Lewis that I had a crush on Sarah’s husband. He was outrageously good-looking with a sexy, plummy English accent, and it used to make Lewis adorably jealous whenever I waxed lyrical about him. When we were really young, Lewis used to blush around Allegra, so it was only fair. Not that it wasn’t understandable. Aunt Ally was beautiful and sweet and had an undeniable charisma. She was also married to the love of her life, Jared (Sarah’s cousin), who owned the farm Fyfe’s home sat on.
Aunt Ally and Uncle Jared had started off with building glamping pods to rent out. Those had become so successful that they’d expanded the business into holiday lodges. And then instead of selling off some more of their extensive land to a housing developer, they’d decided to develop the plot themselves. On top of their businesses, Allegra was a successful artist and ran an art gallery in the village called Skies Over Caledonia.
When I was younger, I envied Aunt Ally so much. She’d claimed Ardnoch as her own and made a home here with the love of her life. I thought I’d follow in her footsteps, and we’d maybe even raise children together. But Lewis had left, and Aunt Ally and Uncle Jared had decided to enjoy a few years of just each other before starting a family. She fell pregnant as I departed for Paris and as her sister, Aunt Aria, and her husband North adopted a wee boy called Maddox who was three at the time, now six years old. And Aunt Ally had a two-year-old called Collum. I was his pseudo aunt, and he barely knew me. But I intended to change that.
“You’re off in dreamland.”
I turned from staring out of Fyfe’s floor-to-ceiling glass window overlooking nothing but rolling fields and trees to meet Carianne’s eyes.
Carianne and I had stayed in touch after I left for Paris, and we always caught up whenever I visited home. She worked as a stylist in a hair salon in Thurso and lived in a small upstairs flat a few streets behind Castle Street. When we were younger, she’d wanted to get out of Ardnoch but had no money. So she’d stayed and trained at the salon. After Fyfe invited me over to breakfast this morning, I’d discovered Carianne here and that she and Fyfe had struck up a friendship again when he’d returned to Ardnoch. They’d only dated for a year when we were kids, and it had ended amiably, so we’d all remained friends.
Her pretty blue eyes held mine. We shared a similar coloring with dark blond hair, blue eyes, and olive skin, but that was where the similarities ended. She had delicate features, whereas I had big eyes and full lips. I was also outgoing and laid-back about most things. Carianne used to be a huffy child. She’d wanted everyone to be her best friend but no one to be anyone else’s best friend. She easily felt neglected even when you were giving her your full attention, and if something happened—anything—her first thought was always for herself.
However, after her first thought, she’d take some time to process and then she was sympathetic and loyal and caring. She was one of the first to call if you were sick or sad or if something had gone wrong in your day. Her gifts were always considerate, and she was a good listener when a person needed her to be. No one was perfect. I certainly wasn’t. And so I’d put up with the annoying huffy side of Carianne so I could still have all the other lovely qualities she brought to a friendship.
We hadn’t spent much time together in the last three years, but I wanted that to change and to see all the ways she’d grown up in my absence.
“It’s strange to be back here with you and Fyfe,” I finally answered. “In a good way.”
“How can we compete with Paris and French lovers, though?” Carianne teased, throwing her arm around me to give me a squeeze.
“Let’s not talk about French lovers,” Fyfe said from the kitchen where he was making breakfast.
“Look at him.” Carianne nodded to Fyfe as he cooked. “All grown up and cooking breaky in his swanky house. Wee Fyfe Moray has come a long way.”
Fyfe rolled his eyes at her comment.
“He has. And we couldn’t be prouder.”
“Bursting with it,” Carianne assured.
“Stop it,” Fyfe grumbled, “or you’ll make my head swell. Just get over here and eat up.”
We sat down at the midcentury-style dining table as Fyfe served us fluffy homemade pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs.
“This looks delicious.” My belly grumbled. “Marry me, Fyfe.”
Fyfe raised an eyebrow as his doorbell rang. “I think that might piss off the person at my door.”
“What?” Carianne and I asked in confusion.
Instead of answering, Fyfe strode from the room and down the steps that led to his front entrance.
“Is there someone else coming?” I asked Carianne.
She shrugged. “Not that I was aware of.”
A male voice met Fyfe’s and I stiffened in my chair. My pulse sped up as realization hit.
After Lewis showed up outside the bakery yesterday afternoon to announce his return, I’d fled.
Aye. Like a coward, I’d hurried back into the bakery and refused to leave until I was certain he was gone. Fyfe had called me last night to apologize for not warning me of Lewis’s return and to invite me to breakfast to make up for it.
I wasn’t mad at Fyfe. I hadn’t even known he was back in Ardnoch, let alone expect him to update me on Lewis’s comings and goings.
But I was mad at Lewis for not giving me any warning.
Why was he back?
Disturbing my peace and blissful denial!
And now he was here … again.
Fyfe gave me an apologetic smile as he led Lewis into the open-plan living room. “Take a seat, Lew. I’ll plate you up some breakfast.”
“Thanks, smells great.” Lewis zoomed in on me. “ Morning, Callie.”
“Lewis!” Carianne jumped from her chair and crossed the room to throw her arms around him. Her head barely reached his shoulders.
Lewis grinned and returned her embrace. “Hi, Carianne.”
“Oh my God.” Carianne pulled back to stare up at him. “Look at you all MC hot.”
“What?” He chuckled.
“Motorcycle Club. I heard you’re riding around the village on a Harley looking like a proper biker with all these tattoos.” She slapped his biceps where said tattoos were. “I gotta tell you, you’re looking good, Adair.”
I tried not to scowl at the flirtatious note in her voice and decided she was merely being funny with an old friend.
Lewis’s attention turned to me. “How are you?”
Carianne stepped away from him, her expression falling. I tried not to overanalyze that as I shrugged at my ex. “I was fine.”
His lips pinched together at the implication I was no longer fine. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Of course she doesn’t.” Carianne gently shoved him toward a seat. “It’s been seven years and she’s shagged half of Paris. I think she’s over it.”
What the actual hell? “Carianne!”
She blanched at my expression. “Oh, Callie, it was a joke. Everyone knows that was a joke, right?”
Lewis folded his large body into the chair but didn’t look at anyone while Fyfe brought over plates for his friend and himself.
“Aren’t jokes supposed to be funny?” Fyfe gently chided Carianne as he took his seat.
“You’re right.” Carianne gave me an apologetic, pleading look. “I’m sorry, Callie.”
“It’s fine.” Embarrassed and now wondering if that’s what everyone was saying behind my back (that I was sleeping my way around France!), I felt my appetite dissipate. If I did want to shag half of Paris, that was my prerogative, but I hated the idea of people gossiping about me, shaming me.
I loved Ardnoch, but the small-town life had kind of worn on my nerves this week.
“Anyway …” Carianne glanced between Fyfe and Lewis for help. “How are things? Lewis, when do you start working at your dad’s firm?”
“Tomorrow.” He gave her a toothless smile. “I heard you’re a hairdresser now. How’s that going?”
“It’s good, it’s good. I keep busy. I just started doing hair extensions too.”
“Good.”
“Are you staying at your parents’?”
“The annex, aye. Until I find somewhere.”
“The flat next to mine is up for rent. It was a holiday let, but they’ve decided they want a permanent tenant.” Carianne practically fluttered her freaking lashes at him. “It would be nice to be neighbors. I could bring you sugar anytime you ran out.”
Feeling Fyfe’s gaze, I shot him a disbelieving look.
He grimaced in sympathy.
So I wasn’t losing my mind.
Carianne was flirting with Lewis!
Breakfast turned sour for me. Out of politeness, I ate what I could of Fyfe’s delicious cooking and tried to catch up with my friend while trying to ignore the fact that my other friend was flirting with my ex. To Lewis’s credit, he valiantly attempted to deflect the flirting and kept shooting me worried looks.
Carianne was oblivious.
And as hurt and irritated by her as I was, I had to remind myself that I’d never told her I still harbored feelings toward Lewis or that I’d had sex with him a mere two weeks ago. As far as she was aware, we broke up when we were kids like she and Fyfe broke up, and so Lewis was fair game.
But it wasn’t the same.
She and Fyfe dated for a year and were never that serious.
Lewis and I dated for three years and made everyone sick with how in love we were.
You just … you just didn’t come on to your friend’s ex-boyfriend and certainly not in front of said friend!
Finally, unable to take much more, I pushed away from the table. “Sorry to love and leave you, but I have some prep to do this afternoon for opening tomorrow.”
Fyfe frowned. “Your mum gave you a lift here, right? I’ll take you home.”
Lewis shot to his feet, his chair scraping back so hard it almost toppled. “No, I’ll do it.”
I gave Fyfe a pleading look, but it went ignored as he cleared his throat. “Aye, that’s a better idea.”
“I can give you a lift,” Carianne offered instead.
I was about to pounce on that when Lewis glowered at her. “No, you can’t.”
Carianne’s lips smacked shut in shock at his tone.
He winced. “Sorry. Sorry.” He turned to me, emotion swarming in his eyes. “Let me take you home. Please. I’d like to talk.”
Recognizing the determined expression, I knew I could run away from Lewis only for him to approach me another day until he got what he wanted, or I could get this awkward encounter over with now. “Fine.”
Relief eased the tension in his shoulders. He nodded and then turned to Fyfe. “Thanks, bud.”
Fyfe smirked. “No problem. ”
Suddenly, I had the sneaking suspicion that Fyfe had told Lewis I was here. I cut him a dirty look that only made our friend grin unrepentantly. “Thanks for breakfast,” I half seethed.
“You’re very welcome,” Fyfe replied dryly.
I looked at Carianne. “Talk to you soon.”
“Aye.” She nibbled on her lower lip, not quite looking at either me or Lewis.
Lewis was so focused on me that he didn’t even say goodbye to her as we walked out. In fact, as soon as the door closed behind us, he rested his hand on my lower back to lead me toward the sexy bloody motorbike parked on Fyfe’s driveway.
Chrome pipes gleamed in the late-morning sunlight.
I tried to ignore the shiver of awareness that skated up my spine at his possessive touch. Unable to ignore it, I stepped away from him. Which was pointless since I was about to be pressed up against him.
Lewis frowned down at me. “You okay?”
I nodded.
He opened the locked box on the back of the bike and pulled out two helmets. Lewis handed one to me. “Your dad warned me if he caught you on the back of my bike and I was doing anything more than forty, he’d kill me. I felt like a teenager all over again.”
My lips twitched with laughter. “When did he say that?”
“I stopped by your place this morning.”
Oh. “Did he tell you I was here?”
“Eventually. But so did Fyfe.”
“So I can be pissed off at both of them.”
“Are you?” Lewis looked adorably uncertain, a stark contrast to his tattooed biker facade.
I sighed. “I don’t know. Honestly, I’ve been trying not to think about you or why you’re back. ”
He glanced away, squinting against the sun. Then without another word he popped on his helmet and swung his long leg over his bike. Arousal flushed through me at the sight, and I cursed my physical attraction to him. Why, oh why couldn’t we have grown apart in every way possible? Instead, I was more drawn to the arsehole than ever.
With an angry grunt, I slipped on the helmet and got on behind him. He waited until I’d scooted close and wrapped my arms around his waist. My breasts pressed against his back as I turned my head to the side. Then we were off.
Lewis definitely didn’t stick to forty.
He didn’t ride like a maniac either, but we sped down the coastal road and it took everything within me not to spread my arms wide and throw my head back. This was different to riding in London. We zoomed around the bends and turns, heading into Ardnoch. And it felt like flying. Plus the Harley growled, and that purring vibration felt good. Too good.
To my surprise, Lewis took a turnoff just outside Ardnoch. I recognized it—it led to a small car park where a path cut through the dunes and down onto the beach.
There were a few cars parked because summer was officially only a week away, and the weather was lovely. As soon as the Harley’s engine stopped rumbling, I hopped off the bike and removed my helmet. “What are we doing here?”
Lewis tugged off his helmet and smoothed a hand over his hair. Those chunky silver rings on his manly fingers that weirdly turned me on glinted in the sunlight. “You said we could talk.”
I had, hadn’t I? I thought it would be outside my parents’ bungalow where my dad would be watching with such an intimidating presence it would put Lewis off, and he’d leave.
And I’d escape the temptation of him once more.
“I really do need to get back, though.”
Lewis swung off the bike and stood to face me. We could hear the ocean waves lapping beyond the dunes, the sound of a dog barking, seagulls mewing in the clear sky above. Barricaded from the coastal wind, we stood in a soothing warmth that was opposite to the storm roiling inside of me as we stared at each other.
Flashes of that night kept flickering in my mind.
Clear as day, I could hear his groans, feel the way his body tensed and shuddered, how he throbbed thick and hot inside me.
Flushing with need, I retreated from him.
Lewis scowled. “Fine. Then I’ll get straight to the point. I came back for you, Callie. I moved back to Ardnoch to be with you. After that night, you can’t deny what’s still between us.”
At once I wanted to throw myself in his arms and sob with relief, while the other half of me wanted to run away from him. To jog all the way down the beach back to the village, so he couldn’t see how bloody terrified I was to have him back and saying these things. Because what if in a year or five or ten, he decided he was bored with Ardnoch all over again? That he needed a city like London to inspire him? To keep him satisfied.
The last time I’d been this torn in two was seven years ago, lying on a forest floor in an angsty mess.
I couldn’t go back there. I couldn’t endure it. The uncertainty would taint our relationship.
Taking a shuddering breath, I released it before replying, “First, I’m sorry for walking out on you two weeks ago without a word. It was cowardly, and I would have been hurt if you’d done that to me.”
Lewis gave me a nod. “Thank you for saying that. Apology accepted.”
“But, Lewis …” I held up a hand as he took a step toward me. He halted. “It was a mistake. A drunken mistake. I’m so rry if I led you on, or made you feel like it was more than it was, but I don’t want to be with you.” My hands shook so much, I fisted them at my sides. “So if you came back here for me, like you said, you should really take time to think about that. Because you should only stay in Ardnoch if it’s what you want. Not for me. I’m no longer part of the equation.”
I couldn’t read his expression. The sun hit behind his head, casting his face in shadow so all I could see were his features and not the look in his eyes. He watched me, though. For a good few seconds. Then he nodded. Calm. Accepting. Strangely not full of fight for someone who’d upended his entire life to follow me to the Highlands.
He pulled his helmet on without another word and got back on the bike.
Confused, disappointed, hurt, and feeling like a brat for feeling any of those things, I put the helmet back on and gingerly returned to my seat behind him.
As we rode into the village, I tried not to worry about the villagers who witnessed us together on his bike. Instead, I enjoyed the ride, knowing it was probably my last with Lewis Adair.