Chapter Fourteen
Iona
I ona trudged up the hill behind An Grianan, Scamp bounding ahead of her. When she’d set off twenty minutes ago, the sun was peeking through light clouds, and she’d dressed in a vest and shorts, figuring it would stay nice and she could put in a quick run before getting to the piles of admin she had waiting for her. The fact that admin was partially the reason she was up here and not back at the house on her laptop was by the by. Any excuse not to do it… though sadly it didn’t make the work go away. Dark clouds had gathered, and a few drops of rain splattered on her skin.
‘Scamp!’ she called, but the dog was already sniffing at something in the grass, oblivious to the impending downpour. She quickened her pace, hoping to make it back to the farm before the rain really set in, but it was too late. The sky opened up, and rain started battering her like someone had upended a bag of tiny pebbles over her head.
‘Bloody hell,’ she muttered, peeling her vest from her tummy, now plastered against her like a second, soggy skin. Scamp’s ears drooped as his head poked out of the bracken.
Iona scanned the hillside and spotted a large rocky area with an overhang a little further down. Breaking into a jog, she made for the rocks, Scamp following close behind. By the time she reached the shelter, she was soaked, water running in rivulets down her face and arms.
Under the overhang, she leaned against the cool stone, wiping water from her cheeks and forehead. Scamp shook himself vigorously, spraying her with more water. ‘Thanks, Scamp. Just what I needed.’
She squinted out at the rain, falling in a relentless curtain. The farm below was barely visible through the haze. ‘Typical island weather.’ It would probably be sunny again in ten minutes.
Scamp settled beside her, resting his head on his paws. Iona leaned down and rubbed his ears. The rain hammered against the overhang and dripped off the edge. She kept herself tight against the rock, but a sudden gust of wind sent the rain almost horizontal. Holding up her arms to shield her face, she shivered. This was horrible. Maybe she should just make a run for it. She was soaked anyway.
She could embrace it, step out and throw her hands high, welcoming the force of nature. It would be more fun than hanging about here. Scamp suddenly perked up like he’d read her mind. He darted out into the downpour, but instead of going towards the farm, he was heading back up the hill.
‘Scamp, come back! This way.’ Her voice was all but drowned by the sound of the rain. Scamp was already bounding up the hill, his tail wagging furiously. Iona squinted through the sheets of rain. Someone was running down the hill, and Scamp was jumping around the figure. Was it Ruaridh? He was always out running, rain or shine. But no, he’d already left for work. It must be one of the other guests. Maybe Shaun, the bloke she’d come back with last night. He’d definitely seemed the running type. In fact, usually he’d be her type for everything, but she wasn’t in the mood. He’d got a bit grumpy with her the night before when she’d refused him and she’d taken out her bad mood on Monty. Honestly, why couldn’t men handle the word no?
As the runner got closer, she realised it wasn’t Shaun.
It was Monty himself.
He was clad in running shorts and a t-shirt and was soaked through.
‘Over here!’ Iona shouted, waving at him.
Monty fought his way over, with Scamp jumping around him. He hesitated, taking off his completely rain-obscured glasses and fruitlessly wiping them on his soaked top. He put them back on and stepped under the shelter.
‘What are you doing out here in this?’ he asked.
‘Same as you by the look of things.’ She rubbed more water from her face.
He peered around the makeshift shelter. ‘Interesting place you’ve found here.’
‘I thought it would be better than trying to get all the way back, but it probably won’t make any difference. My feet are utterly swimming. Feels more like I’ve been surfing than running.’ She watched as he flapped his soaked t-shirt. His muscles moved under the fabric. Ok, that was surprising. They were more defined than she’d expected. She looked away quickly.
‘Yeah, might be better to make a break for it.’ He scanned around. ‘I think it’s easing a little.’
‘It is.’
Monty leaned back against the rock and sighed, then slowly lowered his gaze to meet hers. ‘Is this where you lure unsuspecting men to kiss you in the rain?’
She folded her arms and cast him a look. ‘Is that supposed to be funny?’
He huffed out a laugh. ‘Not really.’
Maybe it had been his attempt at a joke. Laughing at their predicament seemed better than crying about it. ‘Well, if we’re going to be around for a bit, maybe we could—’
Monty turned to her, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her breath catch.
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t think so.’
Iona opened her mouth to reply but stopped herself. That wasn’t what she was going to say, but he’d said no and she knew to her cost how irritating it was when someone reacted badly to that word. ‘I wasn’t even going to say that.’ She looked away. ‘And I won’t be kissing you again unless you beg me,’ she mumbled.
‘Right.’
She clenched her jaw, not sure what was making her so grumpy. There was just something about him, and it made her say gruff stuff when she actually wanted to say the opposite. When they’d been boarding together and out on the boat, it had been fine… Then she’d kissed him, and everything had got weird. She didn’t seem able to think straight when she was around him.
The rain subsided, the sky lightening just enough to reveal the wet and very green landscape glistening with raindrops like gems. Iona shook out her hair and stepped out from under the rocky overhang, shivering as the cool air hit her soaked skin. Monty followed, Scamp darting ahead, his fur drenched but his energy undampened.
They started walking back down the hill, the wet grass squelching under their shoes.
‘Listen, about that kiss. It was obviously a sore spot,’ she said. ‘I was only doing it to help you and now you’re mad at me.’
‘I’m not mad at you.’ Monty looked at her and raised an eyebrow. ‘If anyone’s getting angry about it, it’s you. You’re the one who’s been grumpy with me ever since.’
And wasn’t that the truth? ‘Yeah… Well…’
He sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. ‘Really, we should just forget about it.’
‘I already have,’ she lied.
‘Yeah… Me too.’ He looked as unconvinced as she felt. ‘Because at the end of the day, what are we to each other? Nothing.’
‘Precisely.’
‘So we can drop all the grumpy stuff, yeah?’
‘I am not grumpy!’ She glared at him, then let out a little laugh. ‘Sorry.’
‘Uh-huh.’ He raised an eyebrow.
‘I just… Ah, never mind.’ There was no point in trying to explain or making excuses. It was frustrating enough figuring out what was going on in her head at the best of times, but recently, it had got downright impossible. She kept walking, her shoulders stiff, not sure what else to say. How could she trust herself not to put her big foot in it yet again?
‘Who was the man you came back with yesterday?’ he asked.
‘Why do you care?’
‘I don’t,’ he said.
‘Why ask then? Are you judging me?’
‘No. Just curious.’
‘He was someone who joined the surf class. He happened to be staying at the B&B, so we came back together.’ Maybe even this time last week she might have fancied a hookup with him, but something had changed. ‘I mean, we shared a car home. That’s all.’ Why did she feel the need to clarify?
‘I got what you meant.’
‘So no need to think whatever you’re thinking.’
‘I wasn’t.’ He held up his hands. ‘I was just curious. I thought maybe he was a boyfriend or something.’
‘I don’t do boyfriends. And do you really think I would have kissed you if I had a boyfriend?’
‘No, I suppose not. Sorry.’
‘Yeah. You should be.’
They walked in silence a bit more, the only sound their squelching footsteps, the distant call of seabirds and Iona’s teeth grinding.
Scamp ran ahead and was almost back at the farm.
‘Listen, I hope we can be ok,’ Monty said.
‘Well, sure. Because like you said, what are we at the end of the day anyway?’
‘Indeed.’
As they reached the farm, a wave of cold and nausea churned inside her. She glanced at Monty, who gave her a brief nod before heading towards the annex. Scamp bounded after him, leaving Iona standing alone.
She hurried inside, shivering as the warmth of the farmhouse hit her. In her room, she peeled off her soaked clothes and wrapped herself in a towel, ready for a hot shower. She knew so little about Monty, and yet here she was, acting like an idiot around him. Why did he get under her skin so much?
‘Iona, you look like a drowned rat.’ Catriona came into the kitchen a little while later as Iona was boiling the kettle. ‘You haven’t been surfing, have you?’
‘I got caught in the rain,’ Iona muttered. ‘It was nothing.’
‘Well, get yourself dry and warm. You’ve got a lot to do still for the water sports festival. I met Mark in the village, and he said you hadn’t replied to his emails for ages.’
‘I know, I know,’ Iona snapped, then cringed. ‘Sorry, I’m just… not in the best mood.’
‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing. I’m fine. Just need to get on with stuff.’ She went into the sunroom and got out her laptop. She hated this bit. Procrastination followed her around like a puppy whenever she needed to do admin. And she had so much to do – organising the water sports competition, finalising schedules, coordinating with vendors – but her ADHD brain was refusing to cooperate as it so often did.
She stared at the laptop, the cursor blinking back at her like it had a nervous tick. A to-do list was stuck on a post-it on the keyboard. Should she prioritise that stuff? And what did Mark want? Oh shit. He was supplying food for the barbecue, and she hadn’t got back to him. This was turning into another Iona shitshow. She also needed to send out reminder emails, arrange the logistics for the surf gear, and touch base with the sponsors. But instead, she found herself scrolling through social media. Fuck’s sake.
‘Get it together,’ she muttered to herself, rubbing her temples. The frustration was building, but she couldn’t seem to channel it into productivity. Her mind kept wanting to return to Monty and when it did, she cringed, replaying their conversations and wanting to rewind them and start again. She must look like a total idiot.
With a heavy sigh, she threw back her head, trying to push Monty out of her thoughts. A knock at the door made her jump.
Catriona poked her head around. ‘Are you sure you’re ok? You don’t seem yourself.’ Catriona sat down opposite her. ‘Do you need a hand with anything?’
‘Maybe, but I’m fine. I’ve got a lot on my mind with the festival, that’s all.’ Iona avoided eye contact.
‘What can I do to help?’
‘Maybe help me reply to some of these emails. I could log you in on the other laptop.’
‘Ok. I can do that.’ Catriona raised an eyebrow as she got up to fetch her laptop. ‘Is it just the festival that’s bothering you, or is it something – or someone – else?’
‘What do you mean?’ Iona directed her focus back to the screen.
‘I thought the guy who checked in yesterday was being a bit annoying.’
‘Oh, yeah… He was a bit, but I sent him off.’
‘I know you did, and that kind of surprises me too. He seemed right up your street.’
‘I’m just not in the mood.’
‘No?’ Catriona’s sharp eyes were boring into her. ‘I thought maybe our guest in the annex had caught your attention.’
‘What? No. Absolutely not.’ Iona hammered the mouse to open her emails. ‘That’s ridiculous. Why on earth would you think that?’
Catriona put her laptop on the table. ‘No reason. But why not? He’s a nice guy.’
Iona opened her mouth to argue, but shut it again. She didn’t want to protest and make herself look even more guilty. ‘So what if he is? He’s just another guest. Nothing special.’ And she had to make herself believe that, though she’d probably take a lot more convincing than Catriona.
Catriona shrugged. ‘If you say so. Now, help me get into the emails.’
Iona pulled her laptop over and logged in. As always, when someone else was there to ‘hold her hand’ she worked a lot better, but Catriona was already so busy, and guilt mites nibbled Iona’s tummy at stealing her away just because she couldn’t focus. Catriona’s questions had also stirred more confusion inside her. What exactly did she feel about Monty? Because he was just another guest… Not that it would be the first time she’d hooked up with a guest, but she didn’t want to hook up with him. Not really. Somehow, that didn’t seem right. She shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. There was no time for this. She had work to do.
But as she stared down at her laptop, she couldn’t help but wonder: what was it about Monty that had got under her skin? And why did she care so much?