Chapter 10 Eredine
EREDINE
Once I’d made it obvious to Jared McCulloch that I wasn’t interested in anything but a dance, he left me with a regretful smile that lasted two point four seconds before he zeroed in on someone else.
That there was a player.
I looked around the packed hall, amazed that most of Ardnoch seemed to turn out for the anniversary ceilidh every year.
This was a tight community, and overall a good one.
The Highlands was one of the Whitest places I’d ever been, and Ardnoch was no exception.
Suveer Siddiqui, who owned the Chocolate Box with his wife Moira, was here tonight with their two teenage children and some extended family.
Chen and Wang Lei, who owned Ardnoch’s Chinese restaurant, were also here.
And me. That was it. Everyone else was White.
Of course, the village grew a little more diverse when the tourists arrived en masse during the summer months.
But the glaring fact that there were only two non-White families living in Ardnoch unnerved me my first few months here.
I’d found it isolating. The estate was a little better, now that Hollywood had made strides to become more inclusive, but it was still pretty White.
For a long time, I’d kept waiting for someone to point it out, make me feel like an outsider or less than, but eventually, I realized Ardnoch was filled with good people.
If anyone was a racist asshole, they were keeping it to themselves.
A few years ago at the anniversary ceilidh, a woman around my age whom I knew worked as a teacher at the primary school asked to touch my hair, but that was as bad as it had gotten for me here.
Worse had happened in Inverness, but thankfully, I tended to stick around our neck of the woods.
Villagers smiled and nodded hello as they shuffled past, and I smiled back, trying my very best not to look like I was searching for Arran.
But I was. I’d been aware of his every movement, and he disappeared a while ago.
Then Robyn approached to ask if I’d seen Lachlan, and hearing the concern in her tone, I inquired of the rest of the family if anyone knew where the brothers had gone.
No one did.
Something was wrong with them. Arran had been off all week, and Lachlan had been so broody tonight, he reminded me of the pre-Robyn Lachlan.
“Not in the bar,” Mac said as he and Thane approached us, looking harassed.
“Regan and I need to get the kids home,” Thane said, brow furrowed. “Will you let us know when you find them?”
We agreed while Robyn and I exchanged a look. Hers was definitely more pissed off than mine. Thane and Regan left with the kids to wait in the car for Arran, and Mac offered to check out back. He gave Arro a quick kiss before he disappeared through the crowd.
Just as I saw Mac returning, head and shoulders above mostly everyone else here, Thane marched back into the hall. His expression was hard to decipher, but I think pissed was close to correct.
“They’re across the street,” he said in exasperation as Mac sidled up to Arro. “And they’re absolutely wrecked, singing ‘Flower of Scotland’ at the top of their voices.”
“Dear God,” Robyn huffed, pushing past everyone to storm toward the exit.
We all hurried after her. I’d known something was wrong with those two.
Worry made me quick in my high heels as I followed the Adairs outside.
It was a still night but chilly enough that goose bumps prickled my skin as we hurried across the street, following the raucous clamor of male singing.
They would’ve sounded fairly good had they not been slurring every other word.
Crap.
“Braveheart!” Lachlan yelled, pushing to his feet and almost landing back down on the bench where he and Arran sat. My attention flew to Arran who glowered, eyes half shut, up at Thane as he approached.
“Lachlan, lower the volume.” Robyn hurried to his side to steady him.
He leaned heavily into her, and Mac rushed to hold Lachlan off.
But Lachlan brushed away his friend’s grip and clasped Robyn’s face in his hands, pressing his forehead to hers. She swayed with him, gripping his arms to center them both.
“Braveheart, I am so sorry,” he said mournfully, drunkenly. “I am such a prick.”
“Yeah, you can be,” she agreed, though tenderly. “Let’s get you home.”
“You know I’m happy we’re pregnant, right?”
We all tried to look anywhere but at the couple as their conversation turned private.
“Lachlan—”
“No, let me say this. I adore you and I adore this baby, and that’s why I’m a prick.”
I glanced back at Robyn and saw her lips twitching. “That’s a weird reaction to loving someone,” she teased.
“I can’t lose you.” He buried his head in her neck, and I ached for him. He murmured something else into her skin, and I shared a glance with Arro.
It was horrible to see Lachlan so vulnerable. He was always the one in charge, taking care of everyone and everything.
“You will not lose me. I’m the most stubborn person you’ve ever met, remember? And I have no intention of going anywhere.”
He lifted his head, swaying harder. “Promise?”
“Yes.”
“I love you so much, Braveheart,” he said a little desperately, and then he wobbled into her and Mac pulled him back.
“C’mon, bud, let’s get you home.”
“We’ll get Arran,” Thane said, and we watched as Mac, Arro, and Robyn walked a wasted Lachlan to the parking lot on the other side of the building.
Then I turned to my other friend, who I was equally concerned about.
“Right, wee brother, let’s go.” Thane slid an arm under Arran and tried to pull him up.
But Arran used all his weight to stay down. “I likesh here,” he slurred, even more unintelligible than Lachlan.
I lowered before him, drawing his gaze, and his expression softened but remained sad.
“Hello, gorgish,” he said with a head wobble before patting the space beside him. “Sit wif me.”
Giving him a coaxing smile, I took his hand in mine. “Why don’t you come home and let me make you something to eat and get some water in you?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’ll come home wif me?”
“To take care of you, yes.”
“Take care of me.” His eyes closed abruptly, and he slumped.
I looked up at Thane. “Did he just fall asleep?”
Thane snorted and stood. “I don’t know how we’re going to fit everyone in the car.”
I bit my lip. “I should have gone with Robyn.”
“It’s fine. I think it’s good you’re here. Just give me a second.” With an abrupt nod, Thane jogged across the street and disappeared behind the town hall.
Arran slipped toward the empty side of the bench, so I hurried to sit beside him and hold him up. He immediately wrapped his arm around my waist and burrowed his head against my chest with a groan of pleasure.
He smelled pleasantly of cologne, but then he’d breathe and I could smell just how much whisky he’d consumed. A large bottle of Clynelish lay empty on the street beside the bench. I reminded myself to collect that before we got in the car.
Arran moaned and bussed his cheek against me.
My skin flushed hotter as his lips grazed my nipple. Dear Lord. Where was Thane?
Thankfully, I didn’t have to endure Arran’s cuddling much longer because Thane pulled up beside us. Regan was in the passenger seat, and Eilidh and Lewis were squished together in the back.
It looked like I was going to have to endure more Arran cuddles.
Endure probably wasn’t the right word.
With some effort, Thane and I wrangled Arran into the car, and thank goodness he had decided not to attend the ceilidh as a true Scotsman because his kilt did not want to stay down. I got a flash of muscular thighs dusted with light golden hair, and despite the circumstances, my body reacted.
Ignoring my attraction, I concentrated on getting Arran into the car beside me without hitting his head. I concentrated on my worry for him.
Once we were in, I smiled reassuringly at the kids as I sat in the middle between them and their drunken uncle.
Lewis eyed Arran warily. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine, sweetie,” Regan said, reassuring him. “Uncle Arran is just tired. He’s had a long day.”
Eilidh thankfully accepted this, yawned, and then rested her head against her brother. I melted as Lewis lifted his arm and let her snuggle into him, embracing her. They fought like cats and dogs sometimes, but there was no denying Lewis Adair adored his little sister.
Regan caught my expression in the rearview mirror and gave me a soft smile.
I returned it and then looked at Arran, whose head now rested against the window. It shocked me how desperately I wanted to know what was going on inside that mind of his, how much I wanted to soothe him.
“I want to stay,” I insisted. Thane stood at the end of Arran’s bed in the guest house. He’d helped Arran out of his clothing while I fixed some food, water, and aspirin in the kitchen in the main house. I’d returned to find Arran awake and throwing up in the bathroom.
“Are you sure?” Thane frowned.
“Yes. Go be with Regan and the kids. I’ll look after him.”
He still looked a little unsure, but at my unwavering stare, he finally nodded. “Just give me a shout if you need me.”
“I will.”
“Good night, Arran,” Thane called to his brother.
Arran groaned in response from the bathroom.
“That’s going to be one hell of a hangover.” Thane patted me on the shoulder and exited, closing the annex door behind him.
“Is he gone?” Arran croaked.
“Yeah. Do you need help?”
The bathroom door opened, and Arran stepped out wearing only pajama bottoms, his face pasty and pale as he crawled onto the bed. “Just let me die.”
Trying not to chuckle, I lifted the water and aspirin off the bedside table. “Here.”
Arran reluctantly sat up to take the medicine but tried to shoo away the toast I’d prepared.
“Please,” I insisted. “It’ll make you feel better in the long run.”
With another guttural sound, Arran leaned back against the headboard and raised a piece of toast to his mouth with a heavy arm.
I pulled a chair over from the mini dining area and watched him. He finally looked at me.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
To my shock, his eyes turned glassy. “Just a shit night.”
“Why?” I leaned over and pressed a hand to his arm. “Talk to me.”
Something passed over his expression, something so sorrowful and grim, my pulse raced.
“I suppose if anyone should know who I really am, it’s you,” he muttered, before squeezing his eyes closed. “Fucking room won’t stop spinning.”
“Drink more water.”
He took another gulp, and I went to the kitchen to refill his glass.
When I returned, he took the water from me but wrapped his fingers around mine to stop me from retreating. “I caused a friend’s death, Ery. Four years ago tonight.”
My heart plummeted at his confession.