Chapter 12 #2
Uncle Lachlan was the first of us Adairs to hit Hollywood.
He kind of fell into acting and became an action movie star.
That life wasn’t for him, though, so he retired in his midthirties, took the money he’d earned and wisely invested, and created a proposal to turn our family’s ancestral castle and estate into the successful members-only club it was now.
He and my uncle Brodan also owned Ardnoch Whisky, one of the most popular whisky distilleries in Scotland.
Along the way, he’d married my aunt Robyn, a badass ex-cop from Boston.
She was his best friend and the once estranged daughter of Lachlan’s bodyguard, Mac Galbraith.
It was very complicated, but Lachlan and Robyn fell madly in love while Robyn was helping to catch the person who’d begun stalking Uncle Lachlan and terrorizing the estate.
Through Robyn, Regan arrived and, of course, Dad fell in love with her, despite the age gap. Thank goodness. Regan was the best mum anyone could ask for.
As for Uncle Brodan, he followed Uncle Lachlan into show business but had become a far more critically acclaimed actor.
He’d stayed away from the family for years, and when I was little, I remembered him as the charming, funny uncle I only got to see on special occasions.
While he did enjoy acting, he missed his siblings and Ardnoch.
When the woman he’d loved and lost as a teen returned to Ardnoch to teach, Uncle Brodan could resist the pull of home no longer.
He and my aunt Monroe fell back in love so quickly, she was pregnant by the end of their first year together. Uncle Brodan, who was already burned out by this point, retired from acting and started managing the whisky distillery.
My dad had gone to them about my breakdown and my uncles reached out to talk to me.
Along with Diana, they were extremely helpful in making me see it was okay to realize that acting wasn’t my ideal career.
Uncle Lachlan said if he’d had to deal with social media back when he was acting, he wouldn’t have lasted in the movie industry as long as he did.
That was comforting to know.
Just because I’d always liked attention when I was little didn’t mean I could handle the level that had been thrown at me over the course of the past few years.
Plus, when I was a kid, that attention had been positive.
As my fame increased, the breadth of the negative attention became a monster in the dark of my mind that I’d kept convincing myself I could fight.
I couldn’t.
And there was no shame in knowing your limits. I understood that now.
My uncles had been in contact with me regularly, checking in, reminding me that I was doing the right thing, and I kicked myself for not going to them sooner.
“I’m all good,” I promised them, beaming.
Whatever they saw in my smile made them relax.
“Aye.” Uncle Lachlan cupped my face. “There’s my Eilidh.”
Embracing my family was easy.
Fyfe, not so much.
Seeing him there, looking handsome in the black suit pants and dark cashmere sweater that molded to his strong physique, my pulse fluttered.
Though I’d responded to his texts lately, I hadn’t encouraged a return to our old friendship.
Fyfe had no idea how I felt about him, and I couldn’t punish him for reacting the way he had to our kiss.
I’d decided to be kinder to him, but for the sake of my heart to keep him at a distance.
We hugged, but I released him quickly, not wanting to feel him against me.
Fyfe appeared relieved by the embrace. Concern hollowed his gaze, though, as he looked me over. “How are you?”
“I’m good.” I turned from him, announcing to the room. “Where’s the champagne?”
Uncle Arran immediately held out a glass to me.
I laughed, grinning. “Ever the bartender.”
He gave me a mock bow. “At your service.”
Raising my glass, I turned to my brother and Callie. “To Lewis! For finally pulling his finger out of his arse to claim the kindest, smartest, prettiest girl in Ardnoch before she realized she could do better.”
Everyone burst into laughter, including the bride-to-be, while Lewis mock glared.
I grinned at him and called over the titters, “No, no, in all seriousness … I have the best big brother in the world.” Tears blurred my gaze, and Lewis’s expression turned tender.
“No one else but Callie could ever hope to deserve you. I’m so happy you found your way back to each other. I love you both. To Lewis and Callie!”
“To Lewis and Callie!”
My brother crossed the room to pull me into his bear hug. “It’s good to have you back,” he whispered before planting a gruff kiss to the top of my head.
“You too.”
“Love you, Eils.”
“Love you, Lew.”
A few hours later, some of the younger members of our family had dispersed to get sleep before the big day. I was sitting with Mor and Callie. Lewis had gone upstairs to put Harley down. My gorgeous wee niece was staying the night with us because my parents were babysitting.
We were going over last-minute options for our hair tomorrow. Callie had bought a bunch of different clasps, clips, and hair gems, and we were deciding what would work best. I was maid of honor and Mor was a bridesmaid.
Callie’s wedding dress was very boho princess, so I was naysaying the sparkly diamante clips.
“Pearls and flowers,” I said quietly, because we didn’t want to give away anything regarding Callie’s dress.
Mor fingered the diamante star, and I saw the disappointment on her face. Callie looked at me and we shared a silent conversation.
“You know.” I picked up the star and placed it against Mor’s beautiful red hair. “Maybe it would be nice for our bridesmaid to have a point of difference. This would look gorgeous at the top or bottom of a fishtail braid.”
Mor pretended not to be hopeful. “Do you think?”
“Absolutely,” Callie agreed. “I like it.”
My wee sister tried to hide her smile and failed. “Okay.”
A shadow fell over our small group and I looked up, my skin buzzing with awareness at the sight of Fyfe.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
He nodded toward the deck outside. “You got a minute?”
The balcony was lit up in the evening dark.
The last time we’d stood out there, it was still summer.
But autumn had arrived and so had the shorter days.
Not wanting to be disagreeable on the eve of my brother’s wedding, I nodded and stood.
Following Fyfe out, I braced against the rush of chilly air.
“Too cold?” Fyfe asked, leaning against the balcony.
I tried not to let my gaze devour his long, strong body as I approached. “A bit. What’s up?”
“We just haven’t had a chance to talk in what feels like ages.”
Settling beside him but with enough distance so we weren’t touching, I said, “I’ve been busy sorting out my life.”
Fyfe heaved a shaky exhale. “Eilidh … I … I’ve been a shit friend.”
My eyes flew to his.
His expression was anguished. “I should have pushed harder, made you admit how you were feeling, asked more, talked you into coming home—”
I pressed a hand to his arm. “Stop.” My goodness, this man could tear me up. Knowing he cared this much was torture because … it made me hope for more from him. “Nothing or no one could have done that. I needed to hit that point by myself. And I did. I’m doing much better.”
“I can see that.” He reached out to touch my cheek and I forced myself not to react. “You seemed so much more like yourself in there.”
“I’m getting back to that person. But hopefully to a better version of her.” I slowly eased away so it didn’t seem like a rejection. “How are you?”
“I’m not done asking about you. When do you come home?”
“What do you mean?”
“You said you’re retiring. That you’ll be announcing it soon, right? So when do you come home?”
“Oh.” I’d battled with the idea of returning to Ardnoch and landed on splitting my time between here and London. “I’m not. I’m staying in London. While I figure things out. I’ll spend a few months in Ardnoch over the summer, though.”
“You should come home.” He scowled. “You know that’s where you need to be.”
“I know I need to take all the changes that are happening in my life one step at a time,” I replied calmly.
The muscle in his jaw twitched as he turned to glower out at the darkness beyond. We could hear the water crashing against the shore below and see glimmers of waves catching in the half-moon light.
“How are you?” I repeated.
“All right.” He shot me a reluctant smile. “Been worrying about losing those damn wedding rings.”
Fyfe was Lewis’s best man.
I laughed. “The pressure.” Then, because I was a masochist, “Are you bringing a date to the wedding?”
He tensed for a millisecond, shot me a look out of the corner of his eye, and then returned to staring straight ahead. “No. I am … I’m casually seeing someone, though.”
The thought of him with someone other than me was so painful, I had to shut all emotion down.
“It’s not serious.” He turned to me now. “You know I don’t do serious.”
“Right.” I smirked as I created a mental shield between myself and my jealousy.
“We started seeing each other last month. She’s from the US. Here on a work visa until January. We’re just passing the time together. There’s not a huge selection in the Highlands, you know. So it’s just … fun. Can’t invite her to the wedding. It would give her the wrong idea.”
Please stop talking.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“Aye.”
Fyfe flinched like I’d hit him. “Who? When?”
“Oh, I’m not seeing someone romantically.” I took perverse pleasure in his reaction. “I’m seeing a therapist. Her name is Diana.”
His shoulders seemed to slump with relief. My eyes narrowed. Interesting.
“That’s good. Is it helping?”
“Definitely.” I relayed to him what I’d told Dad, falling so easily into that place of sharing with Fyfe because I couldn’t seem to help myself.
He reached out and curved his hand over mine. “Eilidh … it kills me that you ever felt those things about yourself. Do you not know that your friendship has meant so much to me and to others over the years?”
Friendship.
Bloody friendship.
I smiled tightly and pulled my hand away. “Thank you. I better get back inside. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Fyfe searched my face for a second, then nodded. “Aye. See you tomorrow.”