16
16
Juniper
April: June!
Code red!!
April: Mini Macabe incoming.
Juniper: A little help!
You couldn’t intercept her?
April: If the toilet shed’s a rockin’ don’t come a knockin’.
April: Or the Whisky Dunnage ;)
Juniper: And they say romance is dead.
“June?” In my delirium, I confused the voice for Callum’s.
His fingers speared into my hair, tugging and wrapping.
Thumb grazing my jaw, angling my head precisely where he wanted it.
Blue eyes blazed, focused on me with an intensity that felt out of place on his carefree features.
I could barely breathe beneath that look.
Who needed to breathe anyway?
Ten seconds. I’d give him ten seconds of calling the shots and then I’d—
“ June? ”
Callum never called me June.
He registered the intrusion at the same moment I did.
Balling a fist into my hair, he cursed, low and vicious, but didn’t relinquish his hold.
If anything, he held me tighter, like a child with a toy he refused to share.
Even when I stumbled backwards, he followed, steadying me as the door snapped open.
“Oh, shit. My bad – I was looking for – June ?”
Callum straightened, his stance widening like if he could just make himself big enough, he might protect me from this.
Too late, my gaze already met Heather’s over his shoulder.
Her hand locked around the door handle, eyes snapping hopefully between us like a punter at a comedy club, waiting for the punchline.
“What are you—” She licked her lips.
“What’s going on?”
Callum’s hands tightened on my neck.
His gaze searching mine.
I couldn’t meet it, too busy falling into despair with only the wall and his hands keeping me on my feet.
It was plain to see that Heather already knew, even if she didn’t want to believe it.
“Callum?” His name came from her mouth, demanding explanation.
He didn’t so much as glance at his sister.
“I took an injury. Juniper helped me clean up.”
“With her skirt hooked around her waist?”
“ Fuck .” Callum echoed my singular thought aloud, hands knocking my shaking ones aside as I fumbled to cover myself.
He touched me gently, unhurriedly smoothing the material over my thighs.
Meanwhile, I could barely hold onto a single train of thought.
Heart racing, I stared at my oldest friend in the world and prayed I hadn’t given her a reason to abandon me too.
“Bloody hell, you aren’t even denying it!” She sneered; the expression too cruel for her pretty face.
Callum finally turned, grabbing his shirt from the sink and dragging it over his head.
“What do you want me to say, Heather? You seem to have it all figured out. Want me to treat you like an idiot? Want me to lie?”
“I want you to say a single thing that makes sense!”
His hands went to his hips.
Every line of him calm and controlled, completely ready for the argument to come.
“No offence, Heather, but at this precise moment, we don’t owe you anything.”
She laughed.
Short and sharp. “Does Alistair know it’s we now? Of course he doesn’t. How about you—” Two pairs of Macabe eyes locked on me.
“Anything to say?” My throat worked.
She laughed again – this one dismissive – and raced out the door.
The chill hit me before I even realised I’d followed her.
Bypassing Callum’s reaching hand, I caught up to her quickly.
“Heather – wait.” I snagged her wrist, but she flinched away.
“Can you please let me just—”
“Was one of my brothers not enough for you?” she hissed quietly.
Now it was my turn to flinch.
I could feel people beginning to stare, reading the tension even if they couldn’t hear us.
Jill and her pack of friends where they lingered beside her gas-guzzling Range Rover.
“That’s hardly fair.”
“What isn’t fair is you moving between my brothers like they’re a damn selection box. You know what’s happening with Dad – the last thing my family needs is you causing more tension.” You , as though I were a stranger she’d encountered for the first time.
“Heather, that’s enough – apologise. Now.” Callum’s voice came from behind me.
Fuck, but I wished I’d been the one to say it.
The one to demand a little bit more for myself.
There’d been two of us in that bathroom, why the hell do I deserve the brunt of her anger?
But I was too busy choking down the sob creeping up my throat to say anything.
Cheeks flushed, Heather glanced from me to where Callum loomed over my shoulder, then back.
Finally, she snorted.
“When this all blows up in your face, don’t come crying to me.”
“Like last time, you mean?” I didn’t know where the words were coming from, but I couldn’t stop them.
Rejection burned like lava through my veins.
“When you abandoned me after Alistair ended things then I was the one to hold you and your girls together during your divorce.”
She winced.
The only evidence my words had struck.
“Hey, maybe we should take a beat.” Callum’s hand curled over my shoulders like it belonged there.
Heather’s eyes tracked the ownership of the action.
“No, please continue. I’ll go.” Before I could say another word, Heather’s short strides ate up the distance to her car.
A concerned-looking April glanced between us, called something to Heather who only shook her head and climbed into her car.
“Just give her a few days, she’ll come around,” Callum said, turning me to face him.
Pulse ringing in my ears, I barely registered his words because he looked …
happy ? Blood staining his chin, my coat clutched in one hand, he looked happy.
Hopeful.
“Why did you offer to help me?”
“ What? ”
It felt like a veil had been lifted and I was seeing him for the first time.
“At Ivy House,” I pushed.
“Why did you offer to help?”
His throat bobbed.
“Because you needed my help.”
He’s lying , my instinct roared at me.
“Don’t give me the Community Ken bullshit, tell me why.”
“Because I needed it to be me!” His hand dug into his hair.
“Despite how fucking busy I am, I needed to be the one helping you – fighting your corner – even if you never knew it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I knew it was a stupid question before I even asked it aloud.
Deep down I’d always felt this …
invisible thread between us.
Like the taut string of an instrument, just waiting for one of us to gather enough courage to pluck it.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, swore, then dropped his hand.
“The money. I paid Murray a visit. Made it clear he needed to return every penny he owed you if he wanted to hold onto his licence.”
“You—” I broke off, unsure whether I wanted to kiss him or kill him.
I settled on the latter.
“You had no right. I had it handled, I didn’t require your help.”
He stepped closer, cutting into my space.
“Well, tough shit. You have it. You always have my help.”
There was something in his voice, an unsteadiness that dragged the question from me.
“What … what else have you done for me?”
“Juniper—”
“What else?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, as if he were stalling.
“The permit. The one you applied for to extend Ivy House’s car park two years ago.”
“That was you?”
He nodded jerkily.
The council on Skye could be notoriously slow.
We’d expected to wait weeks, if not months.
Instead, the permit for the small extension came through the door in a matter of days.
“It’s unlikely they would have rejected it. But Heather told me you needed it in place for the summer season and someone on the board owed me a favour. He pushed it through a little faster, that’s all.”
Gritting my teeth, I tucked the information away.
“What else?”
His eyes squeezed shut.
“Coconut milk. I overheard you trying to buy it in the store. Sharon said there wasn’t enough demand to bother placing an order. So … I have a weekly order too.”
“You don’t even like coconut.”
In all the years I’d known him, I’d never once seen Callum blush.
But blush he did. All the way to the tips of his ears.
“I’ve grown used to the taste.”
I might have laughed if not for the bats currently taking flight inside my chest. “Anything else?”
He blew out a breath.
“How long do you have?”
Silence fell between us, broken only by my ragged breathing.
I wanted to chew him out for acting like a high-handed arse.
Only that wasn’t what came out of my mouth.
“You want me.” I spat the words like an accusation.
He didn’t even blink.
“I never pretended otherwise, sweetheart.”
“But … you’re always nice to everyone but me.” The statement sounded about as juvenile as it felt.
Even more so after everything he’d confessed.
“You don’t like nice ,” he said it with infuriating certainty.
I know you, harpy.
I raised my chin.
“Perhaps I enjoy nice sometimes.”
“You want nice, harpy, just say the word. I’ll be the nicest man you’ve ever met.” The words were a tease against my ear.
His hot breath stroking my pulse, sending it soaring.
He wanted me. He’d always wanted me.
The knowledge was thrilling.
Terrifying.
Forcing my feet to take a step back, that was the feeling I clung to.
“You shouldn’t say things like that. Not to me.”
“Because of Alistair?” I barely nodded before he forged on, lungs heaving more than they had during the shinty match.
“Because my idiot brother was too blind to understand he had something spectacular?”
“Stop it!” But he didn’t relent, crowding my space until we breathed the same air.
Blood still stained his shirt and neck in rusted patches, but it was his barely leashed desire I couldn’t look away from.
“You’re magnificent like this, did you know that?” His eyes flashed a cold blue, but he looked the opposite of angry.
“Did my brother ever tell you? Or were the two of you so damn comfortable together, you never screamed at one another just for an excuse to spend the rest of the night fucking the tension away?”
I was speechless.
My heart racing so hard I could feel it in the tips of my fingers.
“I don’t know why I enjoy this little game we play so much, but I do know that every time you look at me with that furious little scowl, I want to fuck it right off your face. That’s all I’ve wanted since that day on the train when it took me less than a second to fall completely under your spell.” Something ugly snaked through my gut and he caught my chin before I could look away.
“One day you’re going to tell me exactly what went down between you and Alistair – why you hold onto that damn ring – so I can make sure I never see that doubt in your eyes ever again.
“ Not today ,” he reassured me when I started to protest. “I’ve had a long time to get here, sweetheart. To realise these feelings aren’t wrong – that you were never meant to be his.”
His eyes traced over my features.
Waiting.
He wanted me to say something.
To offer a reassurance of my own.
But too much had happened tonight.
My tongue felt heavy.
The panic seizing my chest demanding an outlet.
“We … we shouldn’t do this here. Not now.”
Disappointment dragged at his features before he schooled them.
“Of course.” He nodded stiffly, putting a measure of space between us, though I could tell it was the last thing he wanted.
“Will you be okay getting home?”
A sound slipped from me, half laugh, half sob.
I should be the one asking him that .
I muttered an assurance, accepting my coat without meeting his eye, and stalked away.
I didn’t once look back, but I felt his attention on me.
Even when I tucked myself into bed that night, Shakespeare purring at my feet, I still felt it, with his words ringing in my ears:
That’s all I’ve wanted since that day on the train when it took me less than a second to fall completely under your spell .