Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
IONA
Now
“Do you think that was really Ronan Dunbar’s dick?” Maisie asks. “And not, like, a prosthetic or something?”
“Oh, it was his dick,” I assure her. “As soon as the credits rolled on that episode, I googled that very question.”
“Ha! Great minds think alike.” Maisie grins and winks. “But wow! It was some size, wasn’t it? Good on him for getting it out on camera. Makes me wonder what it looks like when it’s hard.”
We both giggle at this. We’re in the Pheasant, which is something of a Bannock institution, a charming country pub owned by Maisie’s father and where she works as a bartender. She’s off duty right now, and we’re seated near the fire, which crackles and pops as the flames dance. There’s a decent crowd of locals in, and cheerful chatter and laughter fills the air, although I’ve seen the place busier. Maisie did say she expected tonight to be a slower evening when she suggested it for our meet-up.
“It’s a good thing male nudity is finally becoming more common in TV and films,” Maisie says. “It makes things more fun for us ladies, eh?”
“I’ll drink to that,” I say, and I do, having another big gulp of white wine.
Maisie, who’s moved on to soft stuff after having one with me, chuckles and has a sip of cola.
We are, of course, talking about that scene from Highland Legacy , the big-budget TV drama that’s a mashup of Game of Thrones and Outlander , and which features a significant number of sex scenes and, yes, willies. But it wasn’t until the fourth episode of season three that the main actor, Ronan Dunbar, finally joined in on the naked fun, stirring up quite the reaction online, with screenshots and video clips being widely shared. Ronan’s penis has even been credited with causing a huge spike in the show’s viewing figures. Apparently, a lot of people who’d previously passed on Highland Legacy binge-watched it after seeing, or at least hearing about, Ronan’s appendage.
“So, how many times did you rewatch that scene?” Maisie asks coyly.
I chuckle. “A few. And you?”
“Aye, a few at the time, but by now it’s popped up so many times in chats and on message boards that I’ve honestly lost count. Anyway, I’ve always loved fantasy and dragons and all that stuff. It’s great that shows like Highland Legacy , with the help of Ronan’s willy, can make the genre more mainstream and less geeky. Have you played the video game it’s based on?”
“Nope, I’m not much of a gamer. Is it good?”
“So, so good!” She nods enthusiastically, her cherry-red bob catching the light. She’s always changing hair colour—a few months ago, it was teal. “It’s this massively multiplayer online role-playing game where...”
She tells me all about it, enthusing about avatars and battle strategy, and even though video games aren’t my cup of tea, I am interested to hear how it relates to the TV show. Besides, Maisie talks with such enthusiasm that she could make any subject captivating. Working in the pub all day, serving locals and tourists alike, has clearly given her the gift of the gab. She’s the kind of person who could get along with anyone. I reckon she figures out what makes people tick, finds some common interest, and then chats away, be that about sport, current affairs, or... Ronan Dunbar’s willy. I don’t know how, based on what little she knows about me, she guessed that would be a good topic for conversation, but she was absolutely right.
But while I do enjoy the odd sword fight and mythical creature, it’s the romantic aspects of the TV show that hook me most, and apparently these feature less prominently in the video game. As such, my interest dips a little, but Maisie immediately picks up on this and takes action. “Anyway, enough about video games. Want to hear a funny story about something that happened this week?”
“Sure,” I say, my attention rekindled.
“All right, well, you know how there are places across the UK with rude-sounding names?”
“Like Cock Bridge in Aberdeenshire?” I giggle. “Oh, or Dick Place in Edinburgh!”
It’s true, the wine is getting to me—and I’m working tomorrow!—but when was the last time I had a girls’ night? I’m taking full advantage of this rare opportunity and letting my hair down. Quite frankly, if I can’t make penis jokes tonight, when can I?
“Ha! Exactly,” Maisie says. “Or Twatt in Orkney, or Shitterton in Dorset. And then there’s my personal favourite: Sandy Balls in Hampshire.” She lets out a loud laugh. “That can’t be comfortable for the poor lads in the area—I bet the name alone makes them itch.
“Anyway, I was chatting with some American tourists the other day, and they were really amused by all this stuff. They’d already taken photos of themselves standing in front of a few funny signs. They asked me what places I knew about, so I told them all the ones I could think of, but then—since they seemed like the sort of folk who’d appreciate a joke—I kept on going, adding ones I was making up on the spot: Arsebrook, Nipplewick, Wankers Way.”
“Wankers Way!” I repeat, snorting.
“They eventually cottoned on, of course, but we had a good laugh about it. Anyway, Iona, my question for you is: if you had to make up a rude place name, what would you have said?”
“Hmm...” I stroke my chin, giving this erudite question the lengthy consideration it undoubtedly deserves. “I’d have said... Boobington. Or maybe Ticklewilly Forest.”
A roguish smile tugs at Maisie’s lips. “Nice. I’d quite like to visit Ticklewilly Forest—it sounds like a fun place.” She takes another sip of her drink. “You know, I’m really enjoying myself, Iona. You’re great company.”
“You mean I’m not the bookish swot everyone remembers me as?”
Maisie’s eyes widen. “I didn’t mean that!”
I laugh. “It’s fine, I know that’s how a lot of people around here still see me, but I was away for nine years. I grew and changed a good deal in that time.”
“Right. If I’m honest, I suppose my perception of you is that you’re a very studious and polite person—not that those are bad things. But, aye, never would I have guessed you’re a big fan of a dick joke. That’s the nice thing about getting to know someone better: you discover the hidden quirks of their personality. I’m getting the impression that, beneath your well-educated and professional exterior, there’s quite the wild streak in you, Iona Stewart.”
I grin. “There is. And...” My smile falters, as if a cloud has passed over my sunny mood. “I think that’s part of the problem.”
“Oh. Problem?” Maisie repeats. “Does this relate to Richard?”
My expression must convey my surprise because she gives me an apologetic look. “Sorry, Cat mentioned you were having some relationship issues—I hope you don’t mind. She didn’t go into details, though. If you want to talk about it, I’m all ears, but equally if you’d rather keep the mood light, that’s fine too. It’s totally up to you.”
It would be good to get a few things off my chest, but I don’t even know how to begin. I take a few moments to gather my thoughts then say, “Richard is... such a nice guy. He really is. And handsome too, and eager to do well in his career. I bet a lot of people around Bannock see us together and think, aye, they’re a good fit. But...”
“He doesn’t have that secret wild streak that you have?” Maisie guesses.
I sigh. “Right. When it comes to Richard, what you see is what you get. And that’s not a bad thing, but...” I tilt my head to the side. “I just... don’t know if it’s enough. But this isn’t the time to be having doubts! We’ve literally just moved up north together. Why couldn’t I have questioned things a month or two ago? If we’d tried living together in Glasgow before coming here, maybe I’d have realised there were problems, but now... well, there’s no way I can break up with him having just moved to Bannock with him. I’d feel too guilty. And like I say, he’s a nice guy, so...”
“So the only thing to do now is wait for him to propose, marry him, then spend the rest of your life in an unhappy marriage,” Maisie finishes flippantly.
“When you put it like that, it sounds ridiculous, but—”
“It is ridiculous. You’re allowed to be happy, Iona. And if Richard doesn’t make you happy, that’s okay. It doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with him, just that he’s not the right match for you. It’s notoriously difficult to find a life partner. A lot of people spend years searching for ‘the one’, and along the way, they go through plenty of relationships that don’t quite fit the bill. But ... we’re getting ahead of ourselves. I’ll be the first to point out that I’m no expert in this stuff, but can I ask if you’ve had a frank and honest discussion with Richard about how you’re feeling?”
I bite my lip. “Er... no. I mean, I’ve talked with him about trying to... spice things up a bit. But I’ve probably not been clear with him about how important that is to me.”
“Well, maybe that’s a good place to start. Don’t get me wrong, all options are on the table. If ultimately you decide he’s not the one for you, that’s fine, but chat with him first. Give him a chance to fix this.”
Wow, Maisie is so practical and sensible. This is exactly what I needed to hear. When it comes to my job, I know what’s what, but sometimes navigating relationships can feel like trying to read a map in the dark.
“You’re right. I’ll sit down with him and have a proper heart-to-heart. Thanks, Maisie.”
I finish off my wine. Without a word, she takes my glass, walks up to the bar, fills it up, then returns to her seat, setting it in front of me.
“Cheers, but this will definitely have to be my last one. I’ve got farm visits tomorrow.”
“Very sensible, but I wouldn’t mind loosening you up a wee bit more because, if I’m honest, I’m curious to hear more about this wild side of yours. I bet dating in a city like Glasgow is pretty different from how it is here. Feel free to tell me to shut up at any point, but... did you have a few fun flings before getting together with Richard?”
“Hmm. Actually, the most fun I ever had was a little closer to home.”
“You mean Lewis McIntyre?”
A flush creeps up my neck. “Shit. How did you guess that?”
She looks at me like I’ve just asked the stupidest question she’s ever heard. “Iona, everyone in Bannock assumed you two would end up together. Also, please don’t look so worried. What happens on girls’ night stays on girls’ night—that’s the rule. The things we discuss here won’t go any further than this table.”
“Because if Cat finds out—”
“She won’t. She and I get on really well, but it’s not my place to tell her you’ve slept with her brother.”
I relax a little. “Thanks.”
“So...” Maisie leans closer and lowers her voice, not that anyone else in the room would be able to hear us over all the laughter and merriment. “Again, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but... what do you mean, Lewis is the person you’ve had the most fun with?”
My flush spreads to my cheeks, but I answer honestly. “Well, he was my first and I was his, and maybe it’s because we were exploring everything together for the very first time, but... the sex was always fun and hot. Always. Any fantasy I wanted to act out, he was up for it, no hesitation. And...” I hesitate, my inner voice warning me to reconsider what I’m about to say, but I say it anyway. “If ever Ronan Dunbar needed a body double for another nude scene, Lewis could step into the role quite easily. Trust me, the public would not be disappointed.”
Oh my God. What is this wine doing to me?
“Really?” Maisie arches an eyebrow with interest.
“Yes, not that men deserve any credit for the size of their things, of course. It’s all genetics and luck—nothing they have any control over. But still, it’s a pretty impressive sight.”
“I bet. So, good sex, a huge dick, and I think everyone in Bannock would agree Lewis is a nice guy. Like, of the three brothers, Jamie is the joker, Ally was the grumpy one—until Emily sorted that out—and Lewis is just... nice. Everyone loves him, and even your maw is forever singing his praises, saying how talented he is in the kitchen, how well the hotel is doing under his management, and that he’s such a lovely lad. Which brings us to the big question: what went wrong?”
Just thinking about it makes my chest tighten painfully—I can’t say it out loud. I’ll need some time to mentally prepare myself before sharing that story.
“We’ve already had one major revelation for this girls’ night,” I say. “Let’s leave that tale for the next one.”
Maisie smiles. “Aye, I’d like this to be a more regular thing—we’ll have to get another catch-up arranged. I wish this one could go on, but I did say to my da I’d be taking an hour off, and it’s already been more than that. Time has flown. I really should get back behind the bar and help him out.”
“Of course. Well, thanks for this, Maisie. It’s been exactly what I needed, especially the detailed analysis of that scene from Highland Legacy .”
Chuckling, she stands and is about to give me a hug when her gaze flicks to the door. “Oh shit, it’s Mr Big Dick himself.”
Clearly, I’ve had too much wine because my first thought is, Heart-throb Ronan Dunbar has come to our small town to grace us with his presence? I turn to the door with a burst of exhilaration, but... it’s only Lewis.
Oof, talk about disappointment.
Spotting me, he grins and heads over.
“Shall I send him away?” Maisie whispers.
“Nah, I can fight my own battles.”
“All right, if you’re sure. If you change your mind, give me a wave and I’ll be right over.”
I nod and Maisie leaves. Lewis, dressed in a well-fitted burgundy shirt that accentuates his broad shoulders, reaches the table just a few seconds later.
“Hey, gym buddy,” he says cheerfully. “Fancy seeing you here.”
I frown with suspicion. “Wait a minute. I told you yesterday I couldn’t go to the gym tonight because I’d be here. Is that why you’ve shown up? Are you stalking me, Lewis?”
His eyebrows shoot up and he rubs the back of his neck. “Er, wow, that’s a strong word. No, I just thought I’d pop by to see if you fancied a chat.”
“It’s a girls’ night, Lewis. I’m sure I mentioned that.”
“You did, but it looks like Maisie has gone back to work and you’re at this table on your own. Surely you’d rather have company than drink by yourself—even if that company is me?”
“There are other faces here I recognise. I’d be welcome to jump into any number of other conversations.”
“I’m sure you would,” Lewis agrees. “But c’mon, we both know I’ve got better chat than anyone else here.”
As he says this, he leans closer to me, and maybe it’s because of his proximity, or because of what Maisie and I were just discussing, but my gaze flicks down to the crotch of his jeans. It takes me a moment to realise what I’m doing and tear my eyes away again. Get it together, Iona!
Because I’m a little flustered by having just peered at Lewis’s bits, I don’t say anything for a second or two, and he apparently interprets my lack of objection as an invitation to sit. He takes the seat Maisie vacated and beams at me.
This annoys me, naturally, but then again, the table does block my view of his lower half, so at least I won’t be tempted to have another sneak peek at his package. If only he could also put a bag over his face to hide his irritatingly good looks.
Oh God, where did that thought come from? Am I just tipsy or am I drunk? I’m not entirely sure.
Don’t make a fool of yourself, Iona. Finish your drink then get out of here as soon as you can.
“Well,” I say drily, adjusting my glasses, “seeing as you’ve already sat down, what would you like to talk about? You’ve got five minutes then I’m off. And please do try your best to amuse me because I’ve had an absolute riot with Maisie and I’d rather not end the night on a dull note.”
Lewis’s lips curl into a playful grin that shows off his dimples, and he leans back in his chair. “Challenge accepted.”