Chapter 9
Carli
Shivering a little in the cooler evening air, Carli waited at the entrance to the marquee.
Niall was wise to get his jacket. Scottish summer evenings were not balmy, like Australian ones.
However, what more than made up for the temperate climate was the view down the Butlers’ expansive lawn towards the coastline.
At the foot there was a hedge, and beyond that, across a small road, a golf course that led down to the sea.
It was gone half seven and the evening light was dimming.
There came a light touch on Carli’s shoulder and she turned to see Niall again.
‘Alright, let’s go?’ He held up his jacket, the short, fitted affair with epaulettes she’d admired him in earlier. ‘This is for you.’
‘No, you wear it.’ Carli wanted him in his full Scotsman outfit again.
Niall’s sturdy legs were made for a kilt, and the jacket along with it made him practically edible.
Although the best part, she’d realised from glimpses this afternoon, was when it came off and there he was, kilt belted tight around his waist, white cotton shirt and fitted waistcoat hugging at his broad frame.
Oh, to be that waistcoat.
‘Nope, I didn’t get it for me.’ While Carli indulged in her sexy memories of him, Niall was still chivalrously holding the jacket out. ‘I got it for you. That dress is stunning, but it can’t be warm.’
Conceding, she let Niall slip his jacket onto her shoulders. It was huge and boxy and smelled of him: citrus, sea salt, masculine.
They meandered down the lawn towards the golf course, the evening light pink and peach as the sun set behind the Isle of Islay in the distance.
Beautiful. No wonder Mum’s heart never left here.
‘It’s stunning, isn’t it?’ Niall remarked.
‘It truly is. There’s something about Kinshore.
It’s like being in a bubble. And I’m closer to my mum when I’m here.
As if she’s looking out for me and asking her friends here to do the same.
Everyone’s been so lovely tonight, especially your family.
You’re so lucky, still having your whole family. ’
‘Aye.’
At this monosyllabic response, Carli’s mistake hit her.
Niall didn’t technically have his whole family because of his biological dad’s death in the fire he started to sabotage the distillery.
And he was about to lose Jimmy Butler. She, of all people, should get how much this dynamic would mess with his head.
‘Sorry,’ she added. ‘I know it’s not all shortbread and cupcakes.’
‘Shortbread and cupcakes! Nope, that it ain’t. I do appreciate my family, though. Being ten thousand miles away has shown me how much they mean to me. And then, being back, I realise it even more. I guess you don’t appreciate how much you’ve missed something until it’s right back in front of you.’
There may have been a double meaning in that, but Carli wasn’t about to ask.
So, instead, they walked the short distance to the beach in silence, strangely, not as awkward as it might be, considering the circumstances.
How was it you could know some people all your life and had to fill the quiet with words, and with others you could go years not seeing them and be so at ease saying nothing?
On the beach, it became apparent how sheltered the marquee had been and even, to some extent, the golf course. Here, on the wide expanse of whipped buttery sand, the wind had free rein to do what it liked. There was no protection; everything was exposed, much like her heart in Niall’s presence.
‘Will you be braving any surfing when you are here?’ He was staring out to the horizon, a wistfulness cloaking him, his gaze so far away it was like he was trying to see Australia.
Niall had always been different on the beach, but it was usually a happy different, like he was as free as the elements surrounding him.
‘Maybe,’ he said distantly.
‘You scared of the cold?’ Carli ventured. ‘You used to say you’re not really Scottish if you find the water here cold.
‘Did I say that? Ha. You could put that inspirational quote on a dishtowel.’
‘Yes, and you’re still Scottish, so I’m sure you could handle the temperature.’
‘I could get used to the cold.’ Niall agreed. ‘But surfing isn’t doing it for me like it used to.’
‘Seriously?’ Was there ever a surfer who stopped loving it? Niall was always wedded to his board, so much so that the family joked that when he was born, he’d come out surfing. ‘But you love it. You used to love it.’
‘I did. I do. But stuff happened.’
‘Did you get an injury?’ Surfing had been Niall’s medicine. It was what he did to get over or through things. Not something to be avoided. What was going on?
‘Och, it’s fine.’ He picked up a stone and threw it down the sand. ‘I don’t want to bring the mood down.’
‘No offence,’ Carli remarked gently, ‘but the mood between you and me isn’t exactly way up in the stars.’
‘True,’ Niall said. ‘And it’s up to me to fix that.
’ He rubbed the nape of his neck, staring dead on at the waves crashing onto the shore and breathed deep into his core.
Carli could tell how difficult whatever this was for him.
Finally, though, he formed words that threw her completely but brought some clarity at last. ‘My best mate died when we were out surfing six months ago.’
‘Oh.’ Carli froze, momentarily thrown. She should know what to say, having experienced grief herself. She moved a little closer to him, resisting the instinct to reach out and hold him, all of him, but touching his arm instead. ‘I’m so sorry. What happened?’
Niall pursed his lips hard, as if the words were too much. It had to hurt.
‘You don’t have to talk about it if it upsets you,’ she said, softly, ‘but I am here to listen, if you do.’
Niall dragged his right foot through the sand, creating a trench.
With a hesitance, he began to talk, but as he continued, he fell into more of a flow.
He told her about his best friend, Rafe, how they’d started the business together, how they’d complemented each other so well and how he wished he could have saved him when he’d collapsed on the beach one morning.
And he revealed that it should have been him that died because Rafe was such a good person.
Carli listened intently, cut by every shard of Niall’s pain.
‘Rafe was my found family,’ Niall added.
‘When I went to Australia, he was my brother from another mother and all that. Without him, I’m lost out there.
I don’t have that foundation anymore. And with my dad being so ill, how much my own family means to me is becoming more and more apparent. So I’m thinking of moving back here.’
This was monumental. Niall was at a crossroads in his life where he had to make a decision for his own wellbeing. Moving back to Kinshore after all this time would be huge, but with losing his best friend, being so far from family, and his father dying, it was a completely understandable choice.
‘Niall, I am so sorry,’ she said when the only sound was the rush of the waves once more. ‘That’s devastating, and I understand why you’d want to be here with your family.’
‘Thanks, Cass. Aye, my head’s a wee bit full with all the ins and outs.’
‘Of course it is.’ And Carli recognised that it didn’t matter if there could still be something between them because he had far bigger problems than a dusty old relationship from nearly two decades ago. The best thing she could do was be a supportive friend.
‘I do get it to a certain extent,’ she said.
‘I lost my mum, I was shuffled back and forth between Scotland and Australia all my childhood, and I understand how unsettling it is to not be on a sure footing. All I can say about the grief is that it will get better. It will always be with you, but you will learn to live with it. Maybe you should talk to a mental health professional. Get prepared for… your dad. Do therapy online, even.’
Niall laughed, but she didn’t find it cute.
‘What?’
‘Och, nothing. You know what makes me not want to do therapy? The amount of people banging on about doing therapy. It feels like mental health awareness week every week.’
‘Maybe you should bang on about it. Maybe it needs to be.’
‘Aye, I’m sure I do, but I’m not a fan of talking about it all the time or labelling it mental health or mental hygiene or whatever the latest hashtag is.’
‘Oh, right. Well, hashtag let’s bury it and never talk about it again.’
Niall raised his palms in mock defence. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I get that you’re trying to help.’
‘It’s fine. I appreciate you’ve got hang-ups and I empathise, I do. But let’s not forget that I’m standing here trying to support someone who dumped me because they didn’t love me anymore. Or was it because he couldn’t be fucked with distance anymore? I’m really not sure. Never have been.’
‘Oh, Cass, I’m sorry. Look, I want to talk to you about us. I just wasn’t expecting to have to, and it hasn’t been the right time yet. Does that make sense?’
‘Yep. Believe me, there hasn’t been a moment since I got here that I’ve wanted to talk about it either. This is my holiday and a trip to remember my mum, not how much you hurt me.’
‘I get it. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for what I put you through when you were grieving. I let you down at the hardest time in your life. I need to shoulder the responsibility for my part in making it harder. Be the man around here.’
Carli couldn’t help but consider that Niall was definitely the man around here. She’d never admit it to him, but Niall’s brooding demeanour, the tense jaw and the traditional Scottish dress made him smoulderingly hot. And he was obviously having a tough time, which she’d always had a soft spot for.
‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘It’ll happen.’
Recognising her softening, Niall took his cue.
‘Cass,’ he dragged his gaze slowly over her face like he derived both pleasure and pain from looking at her, ‘you’re beautiful.
Seeing you again is incredible. I feel this…
I don’t know… but it’s like a tsunami pulling at me.
I thought what we had before was strong – but now…
Maybe it’s an injection of being an adult, but fucking hell! ’
Carli ran her tongue over her upper teeth and uttered a reluctant, ‘I know.’
‘You do? You feel it too?’
‘Of course I do, but there’s a bible of unspoken stuff between us, Niall.’
‘Aye. And I haven’t even asked if—’
But Carli didn’t find out what Niall was going to ask because a sudden gust of wind blew in and whipped his kilt up his thighs. He grasped it in his fists but Carli’s laughter was out of her before she had a chance to stop it.
‘Speaking of being the man around here…’
‘Did you see…? Sorry.’
‘Actually, no, I didn’t.’
‘Oh, phew…’ Niall brightened.
‘Why? Are you shy?’
‘Not especially, no.’
‘Not a true Scotsman? You’re wearing underpants?’
‘I am definitely a true Scotsman. No pants for this guy.’ Niall stood a little taller as he made this declaration.
‘I see. Except sadly I didn’t.’
He laughed. ‘Shame for you.’
‘Ah well, I expect it’s roughly the same.’
‘They don’t tend to shrink.’ Niall was trying unsuccessfully to keep the smile from his face.
Carli’s heart was galloping all over the place.
She couldn’t keep her own amusement from shining through.
It was so nice to have some banter with him.
Find their way back to fun communication, albeit on a more adult level than seventeen years ago.
‘Well, I had no idea,’ she said, playing the ingénue. ‘It’s all a mystery to me, the male physique.’
Niall chucked throatily. ‘Oh, is it now?’
‘Well…’ Carli rolled her eyes to the sky as if avoiding the question.
‘Aye… well,’ he said, and she caught his grin as she dropped her gaze to him again. ‘Thanks, Cass. I can’t remember the last time I smiled genuinely, never mind laughed. You’re good for me.’
‘You’re welcome. I hope we can be friends.’
‘Aye,’ he agreed. ‘I hope we can.’
Carli was glad she could help Niall. The energy between them was thrumming, as it always had.
But good for each other? That bible of unspoken stuff between them had its Old Testament with all the problems from the past, and the New Testament with her health issues and all his troubles.
Nope, present day Niall Butler might be to die for in a kilt, he might make her laugh and think she was good for him, but with their combined baggage they may be way over their allowance.