13. Crystal
13
Crystal
After the close encounter with Rabbie in the kitchen, my heart was pounding so hard, I’m surprised he didn’t see how nervous I was. My hand was shaking so much reaching into his pocket, I didn’t notice I was holding my breath until I stepped back. I never get anxious around men, I’m usually confident and self-assured. I hardly recognise myself when I’m stuttering and shaking around him.
Then, when I tried to stop him from getting sticky dough all over me, he went back to being ‘professional’ Rabbie. After that sudden shift, I had to escape to the flat upstairs, away from being distracted by him even though he’s downstairs.
I’m not sure how I got here, I’ve never had a crush on a guy like this. And it’s starting to freak me out. I haven’t even kissed the guy, for fuck’s sake. The attraction has increased tenfold since getting a glimpse into his sensitive side. Last night after we left his nan’s house was the first time I’ve seen him like that. He always wears the mask of the goofy friend, but I could tell it was good for him to talk about it when he was ready.
I keep telling myself that I’m just attracted to him, and not that there’s a possibility that I could actually like-like him. Feelings are messy, and I don’t do messy.
I try to work on touching up the photos I took of him, but seeing his face on my computer screen isn’t helping me take my mind off this overwhelming crush I have on him. The photos I took of him are amazing, he looks so natural working the dough. He’s so comfortable in the kitchen, seeing him work is amazing. I’ve never seen someone who is so passionate and mastered at their craft. I barely have to touch up the photos, he’s so handsome. In the photos, the morning sun bounces off his blonde hair and makes him look gentle and tender. His muscular forearms kneading the dough makes his veins pop out, contorting all the way up his forearms. I try not to picture his strong arms wrapped around me.
I finish touching up the photos around lunchtime, I said to Rabbie I would go downstairs for lunch, but I’m not hungry. I push on with some more work on the website, but I’m constantly being interrupted by the damn hairball rubbing up against my legs. I keep nudging her away with my feet, but she’s a persistent thing.
After ignoring her for what felt forever, the thing eventually jumps on the table to face me, and I retreat back in disgust.
“Get the picture, hairball. I don’t like you,” I wave my hand at her.
The mangy thing swats at my hand as I try to shoo her off the table, and she narrowly misses my hand. The cat sits in front of me, staring me down, its large yellow eyes burning into me, its tail gently swishing side to side. God, this cat is going to scratch me to death in my sleep, I know it. The hairball slowly stands and swishes its big bushy tail in my face as it jumps off the table and disappears down the hallway. I brush the cat hair off my face, and rub my itchy eyes as a FaceTime call comes in on my open laptop. I straighten up and answer the call, with a smile.
“Hi,” I smile into the camera on my laptop.
Cain, fills up the screen with his bulky build. He’s all muscle and height, pushing over 6’5. He looks scary with his rugged beard and strong features, but really he’s the biggest softie I know. All my big brothers have dark hair from my dad, and I got my red hair from my mom, even thought she bleaches her hair blonde like her idol; Dolly Parton.
“Hey there, little sis,” my older brother Cain beams a charming smile at me.
My eldest brother Cain is seven years older than me, and he’s pretty much in charge of the ranch we all grew up on. Dusty Mills Ranch has been in the Clark family for generations, it used to be an old copper mine. But now it’s just a horse ranch, he’s the boss now that my dad is too old to be running around with the younger ranch hands. My brothers breed and sell the best pedigree stallions and mares, mostly to all the southern states. Most people from the south know about Dusty Mills Ranch and their famous horses.
“Move over you brute, I wanna speak to my little sis,” Creed, my middle brother, pushes Cain over so he can get in front of the camera.
I hide my smirk because Cain rolls his eyes, and shuffles over so Creed can sit down next to him. Usually, my brothers bicker and fist fight like there’s no tomorrow, but Cain knows that Creed will just continue to be annoying until he gives up, so sometimes it’s easier for him to bite his tongue.
Creed is the out-going one, he’s even more confident than I am, and likes to fancy himself as the good-looking Clark brother. He’s too cocky for his own good, sometimes.
“Hey,” I smile at Creed.
I have to give it to him, he is very handsome. He takes a lot more time and effort in his appearance than Cain. Creed’s dark hair is styled to look effortlessly messy, and his stubble is neatly shaved back, not like my unkempt eldest brother who looks like he’s taken on the role of rugged mountain man. Creed is the same height as Cain but doesn’t have the same Goliath size as him, he’s more trim and slender but still as strong as an ox. Creed definitely gives off middle child energy, he always has to be the centre of attention.
“Where’s Cruzer?” I ask.
“I’m here, but these two fatsos are taking up all the space.”
Cruz, the youngest of my brothers, pops his head in between his two elders and gives me a gentle, warm smile. Cruz is the wild and crazy one, he’s hard to pinpoint at any given time. He’s always off doing something or someone. He’s such a playboy, he’s always talking about his ‘buckle bunnies’ that follow him around at rodeos. He’s well known in the rodeo community as one of the best bronco riders in the state.
My heart squeezes in my chest, I miss them so much. My three older brothers are the only thing I miss about Tennessee, that and the beautiful landscape of Dusty Mills Ranch. I do miss the ranch sometimes. I miss being able to take one of the horses out of the barns and taking it for a ride through the many fields of wildflowers or through the creeks, stopping to have a swim in the summer months. The Dusty Mills Ranch is a slice of paradise. Seedville, the little town closest to the ranch, I don’t miss at all. A town like Seedville makes you rotten to the core, especially if you’re a woman. The typical southern women sipping their sweet tea and spreading rumours is not my idea of fun. I’m the only one from my high school who left Seedville, all of my ‘friends’ stayed and now have husbands and children of their own now.
Now they sit with their friends just like their mama’s did, sipping sweet tea and gossip till the sun sets. I was always different in their eyes, with my heavy makeup and wild, messy hair. That made me the centre of their rumour mill, and the butt of every joke. There would be many times we’d hang out in groups and one of the boys would pretend to like me, and when I’d get giddy and excited they’d reveal it was a joke, and everyone would snicker and laugh at how gullible I was that I could believe anyone one in that town would be interested in me. Their mean girl energy left a bitter taste in my mouth about the town, and I couldn’t wait to get far away from that place.
It’s a sight to see them all squish in close together, my large three older brothers huddling together.
“Cain, quit breathing so loud, I can’t hear her,” Cruz nudges him in the side.
“Shut up, Cruz. You idiot,” Cain slaps him on the back of the head.
“Who you calling an idiot?”
“Ladies, stop your bitchin,” Creed smirks trying to defuse the argument but makes it worse by calling them ladies.
“Shut up, pretty boy,” Cain and Cruz say in unison.
I sit there and watch them bicker like little children, and find it very amusing. The Clark brothers fight constantly, but if there’s one thing I know, they are fiercely loyal to each other and very protective over me – their little sister. After the little tiff was over, my brothers settle in and start asking a million questions. The first and most important one to them.
“Are you behaving yourself?” Cain asks, with a small smirk on his mouth.
They all eye me suspiciously, and I give them a sickly sweet smile and flip them the bird. My brothers know this question grinds my gears, and they all like to ask it to me before any other question. It’s usually the first question my mama asks me, that or some unwanted comment about my appearance. They like to stir the pot because they know the type of relationship I have with our mama. They try to make light of the situation.
It’s double standards because my brothers are allowed to go and sow their wild oats before they settle down, which none of them have yet. But, me being a female, I’m considered loose and should’ve had a litter of pups by now. I’m twenty-five and I haven’t even lived my life yet. I graduated from college a year ago, to my mom’s dislike. She didn’t even want me to go to college in the first place.
“What’s Scotland like?” Creed asks.
“It’s okay, I’m in a small town called Crossmackie. It’s smaller than Seedville.” I tell my brothers.
Seedville has a population of about five hundred people, so it’s easy to know everyone’s business. Crossmackie is about half that, and I can see now how easy it is to get caught up in idle gossip here.
“Wow, that must be driving you crazy now you’re a city slicker,” Cruz teases.
My brothers also like to remind me that I’m a city slicker now, because I hardly go back to the ranch, only when I have to, like at Christmas. I feel the sting from the guilt, it’s not because of them that I don’t like to go back. I’m anticipating a conversation with my mama at some point, I know she’s there. The anxiety starts to kick in, and I unconsciously pick at skin around my nails.
My brothers and I chat for a little while, and I’m fully caught up on details about the ranch, and Cruz’s multiple wild nights at the rodeo. I’m so deep in conversation with my brother’s that I don’t hear the door to the flat close, or Rabbie coming into the living room.
“Hey, you didn’t come down for lunch, so I brought you a sandwich,” he comes in, but stops dead in his tracks when he realises I’m on a FaceTime call with my brothers.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he raises his hand, he turns to leave.
“Who’s that?” My three brothers clamber over each other to try and get a good look at Rabbie in the background. I block their view by moving my head closer to the camera just to annoy them.
“Move your big head Crystal,” Cain tries to hold some authority over me.
I smile because I’m clearly getting under their skin even all the way from Scotland. I move my head out of the way so they can see Rabbie standing behind me.
“This is Rabbie, he’s the cafe owner who hired me to make the website for his business,” I tell my overprotective brothers.
“Well, what’s he doing bringing you a sandwich?” Cain questions.
“He’s just being nice, I’m staying with him whilst I’m here.”
“Woah, woah. Hold on,” Creed pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Not like that, he has a spare room. Jesus,” I roll my eyes at my brothers.
I look back at Rabbie who is finding this amusing, he doesn’t seem at all intimidated by my three large brothers. He walks over and places a firm hand on my shoulder and places the sandwich down next to my laptop. His hand on my shoulder is setting my whole body on fire, and I’m trying my best not to lose my cool in front of my brothers. Rabbie leans in so close I can smell his musky scent and I try my best not to close my eyes and take in a deep breath cause that would be fucking embarrassing.
“Hello, you must be Crystal’s older brothers. She’s told me so much about you, dinna fash I’m looking after her. Not in that kinda way, I assure you it’s strictly professional,” he smiles at my brothers.
Well if that wasn’t clear enough that nothing is ever going to happen between us, I don’t know what is. I swallow the disappointment and try not to let it show on my face.
“Did anyone understand what he said?” Creed asks with a smile on his face.
“Not a word,” Cain laughs.
“Oh, shut up, you three,” I say.
“We’re just teasing, nice to meet you Rabbie. Look after our little sissy, will you,” they act all macho and tough.
“I can look after myself, jerks,” I stick my tongue out at my brothers.
“Is that my baby girl?” I hear a deep voice come from behind my brothers.
“Hi Daddy.”
I smile as I see his white hair appear above Cain’s head, they look exactly alike, a carbon copy. He’s aged a little bit since the last time I saw him, but he’s still the warm, quiet giant that I love dearly. We have an unspoken understanding that my mama can be a difficult person, and we quietly acknowledge that it’s best to ignore most of the hurtful comments that come from her mouth. Me and my dad are her usual targets, her three wonderful sons can do no wrong in her eyes.
“Can’t wait to see you at Christmas, baby girl. I love you,” He tells me before disappearing.
“Love you too, daddy.”
My dad is an old timer, he doesn’t know the first thing about video chats so he keeps it brief, which I appreciate.
“Is that my sweet baby girl?” A shrill voice cuts in.
I instantly tense up, and Rabbie’s hand squeezes my shoulder, for a millisecond I’d forgotten he was still here. He peers down at me with a concerned frown. I hope she’s nice to me in front of him.
“Hi Mama,” I try to sit up straighter.
“Move over boys, let me see my baby girl,” she tells my brothers.
‘Yes, Ma’am. We’ve got work to do, come on, boys. See you at Christmas, Sissy.” They all give me sympathetic looks because my brother’s know I don’t like to be left with my mama for too long. Maybe she’ll be polite to me with Rabbie being here.
My mama appears on my computer screen, looking as perfect as ever. Full face of make-up, her long blonde hair curled and neatly styled, not a single hair out of place. She’s wearing a cream sweater, and her sparkly diamonds. She looks like she just stepped out of a magazine.
“Oh, look at you. Still wearing that heavy eyeliner, I see.”
I shift in my seat and try to let her snide comment roll off my back. Rabbie’s hand is still firmly planted on my shoulder.
“Hello, Mrs Clark. It’s finally nice to meet you, I’m Rabbie,” he smiles at her.
My mama practically drools over Rabbie, and I don’t blame her because he’s utterly gorgeous.
“Have you finally found yourself a gorgeous man? Am I finally gonna get some grandbabies?’
My mom claps her hands together, her long red nails looking fresh.
“No mama, Rabbie hired me to make his website,” I try not to roll my eyes at her.
“Well, time is ticking, honey. You’re not getting any younger. You’ll die alone if you keep waiting.”
“Mama, I’m twenty-five. I’m not going to die alone.”
“You just have to pick one honey, you don’t have to love them. Heck, I didn’t love your daddy when I met him.”
I twitch at the thought of marrying a man for convenience, it makes me sick to my stomach. Rabbie still has his large hand firmly on my shoulder, which is weirdly comforting. He keeps squeezing it, the pressure is reassuring and supportive. Although it was wishful thinking that my mom was going to refrain from making so many hurtful digs in front of him, it has me a little embarrassed.
“My three older brothers don’t even have girlfriends, and you don’t give them lectures about settling down,” I try to defend myself.
“Well, boys will be boys. You have to set an example as a southern woman. Looking your best and caring for your man is what we’re born to do.”
I try not to let her views diminish the way I choose to live my life. I don’t want my sole purpose on this earth to be at the hands of a man. I don’t want to spend my life looking after a man in a loveless relationship. This is why I’m reluctant to pursue a serious relationship, for the fear of turning out like my parents.
“Thanks for the advice, mama,” I try to rush the conversation along, so I can hang up.
“You know I want the best for you honey, all your friends are married and have had babies by now. All the women in my book club are always asking about you, and I have to tell them you’re still single.”
“Okay, mama. I’ve got to go, I’ll see you when I’m home for Christmas.”
“Thanksgiving is coming up, don’t be going crazy on those desserts now. I know how much you love pumpkin pie. Love you, honey.”
I don’t even give her enough time to blow her usual kiss to the camera before I hang up and let out a long sigh. I close my eyes and wish I wasn’t here. I wish I could erase that conversation from my life. I wish Rabbie wasn’t here to witness that.
Rabbie’s hand is still firmly on my shoulder, and I’m so embarrassed to look at him. I don’t know what I was expecting, my mama can be so unpredictable, but I wasn’t expecting her to lay into me so harshly in front of him.
He takes his hand off my shoulder and sits down across from me, and I can feel his sage green eyes burning into me. I know he doesn’t usually pry, but this is different. He’s finally got a glimpse into my life and why I am the way I am.
“Are you okay?”
I’m looking down at my hands, and I still can’t bring myself to look at him.
“ Mo beag? ”
That Gaelic nickname he’s given me gets my attention, and I finally look up at him, and I try to fight back the tears and not cry in front of him because that would be embarrassing.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I barely get it out before a small squeak escapes my mouth.
Rabbie is quick on his feet and is kneeling down in front of me, and takes my hand in his.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think she would act like that in front of you,” I wipe a tear away from my eye.
I told myself a long time ago, I would never let her make me cry or make me feel bad about myself again. I don’t know why I’m trying to lessen the way she spoke to me, maybe because I’m embarrassed, or maybe I’m so used to it. I don’t let people talk to me like that anymore. Hell, I even called Mrs. MacNee out last night for the way she spoke to me, but when it comes to my mama I lay down and take it.
“You have nothing to apologise for,” he squeezes my hand and tries to get me to make eye contact with him.
“I want my life to have more purpose than just making a bunch of babies and keeping a man happy.” I admit.
Rabbie is still kneeling in front of me, and the heat coming from his gaze makes me shift in my seat.
“You’re more than that, I hope you know that.” He rubs the back of my hand with his thumb.
His comment is so out of the blue it takes my breath away. Dylan would always try to cheer me up after my mama called, and sometimes it felt forced. Almost like she was just trying to come up with anything to make me happy. Dylan sometimes knew how to say the right things, but she would always try to remind me to be thankful that at least I have a mama. Then I would feel bad because her mom died when she was fifteen from breast cancer. But Rabbie’s genuineness and the look of shock on his face after hearing the things my mama said to me makes me believe him.
“Thank you, Rabbie,” I smile at him.
“Please don’t let ‘normal’ society pressure you into thinking you’re not good enough. You’re perfect the way you are. I feel like such a dickhead for not telling my nan to lay off the questions last night,” he rubs a hand through his perfectly messy blonde hair.
“You weren’t to know my mama is the way she is, but now you can understand why I’m a little hesitant about living in a small town with all the criticism and judgement I get from her,” I let out a shaky laugh.
“I get it, but not all small towns are like that,” it sounds like he’s trying to win his case.
I raise an eyebrow at him, because his nan just treated me in a similar way the night before, but I don’t say anything to him, I don’t want to cause any conflict. I’m enjoying him being this close to me again.
“The pictures turned out great, do you want to see them?” I ask him, changing the subject.
Rabbie squeezes my hands, and I think we’ve learnt that once we change the subject, it’s time to move on and stop dwelling on our fucked up families.
“Aye, mo beag . I would love to see them.” He smiles at me softly.
He stands and stretches, and I get a little sneak peek of his toned abs as his t-shirt lifts. I have to stop myself from reaching out and stroking his exposed stomach.
He wanders over to the big couch, and flops down on it with a satisfied moan. I grab my laptop from the table and join him on the plush couch, and I picture myself snuggling up with Rabbie in front of the fire when it’s snowing outside. I shake my head to get that thought out of my head, because he made it clear to my brothers that it was nothing but professional between us. And because that thought is definitely in serious relationship territory.
I flick through all the pictures I took of Rabbie, and he quietly nods and smiles as I show him my favourites and which ones I suggest he should approve, to go on the website. I’m waiting for his input, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Do you not like them?” I ask him. I feel the worry spreading through me like a dark cloud. He turns to look at me with a strained look, and puts his arm over the back of the couch.
“Oh, no. I love them all. I just don’t have many pictures of me, so it’s just hard for me to get excited about them. Apart from school pictures, I don’t really have any. My nan never used a camera because she grew up in the war and never believed in novelty things such as cameras, and obviously you know the situation with my mum and dad. And to top it off, being an owner of a business is hard for me to accept when I had the childhood I had. I guess I’m dealing with a little bit of imposter syndrome. I’m sorry, I sound ungrateful, they’re all amazing.” he shrugs his shoulders.
I close my laptop and place it on the coffee table and turn towards him on the couch. My heart crumbles at the thought of knowing that there are no pictures of Rabbie as a baby or a little boy. I bet he was the cutest kid with his blonde hair and green eyes. It breaks my heart even more to know that he craved love from his parents and never got it. It kinda makes me feel stupid for having this weird relationship with my mama, because even though she always critiques me, I know she loves me.
“You’re too modest, you’ve created a successful business all by yourself. You should be proud of that.”
“Thanks, and this website wouldn’t be possible without you,” he smiles at me.
“You’re welcome, I’m glad I could help. Now, that’s enough talk of families and business for today, let’s go get a drink because I think we need a dram of whisky or two after the couple of days we’ve had,” I try to imitate a Scottish accent.
A small laugh escapes Rabbie’s mouth as he tilts his head back against the couch. I relish in this moment, because this is the light, carefree Rabbie that everyone loves.
His face is soft and stress-free. We both make a pact to push aside all our crappy feelings about families and self-worth,
and truly live in the moment.
* * *
Rabbie and I enter the pub, and I’m not surprised to find it packed with the whole town. It’s lively here tonight, with people playing music and singing folk songs. The fire is lit, and it’s very cosy with all the tables lit by candlelight, it almost looks romantic to be in here. I must admit the rustic charm of The Drunken Duck is rubbing off on me. It will be weird going back to Boston and the swanky cocktail bars. Suddenly the thought of going back to Boston fills me with dread, and the pit in my stomach feels like lead.
I thought, after being here for a while now, that people would stop looking over and whispering whenever I enter a place with Rabbie. But it seems to have gotten worse as I spot multiple tables of locals looking over in our direction. Rabbie places his hand on the small of my back as we walk through the crowded pub. His heavy hand sends sharp jolts of energy through my body, and my legs begin to feel like jelly. I have to focus on not falling in front of the whole pub because this man seriously is doing strange things to me.
I scan the pub for Dylan and find her sitting at our usual table in the corner next to the fire. Rabbie leads me over, and I’m like putty in his hand, he can lead me anywhere when his hand is on me like this.
Dylan looks between me and Rabbie with a small smirk on her face, that girl can read me like a book. The look on my face must say it all. I’m trying to act cool in front of everyone, when really I’m squirming on the inside.
Dylan tries to hide her smirk by taking a sip of her drink, I know she’ll be asking me questions as soon as we’re alone. We take a seat at the table with everyone. Cam and Hamish are having some heated discussion, they both spot Rabbie and try to involve him.
“Rabbie, what do you reckon? Can you make it up to the cabin this year? Hamish reckons we’re all too busy, but seeing as it’s Dylan’s first winter in Scotland, and we have Crystal here, I thought it would be nice to take them to the cabin for the weekend,” Cam asks him.
“I w-was just thinking of how b-busy you’ll be now you’re the owner of Sweet Treats.” Hamish stutters.
Hamish looks at Rabbie with a glare as if he wants him to back him up and not Cam, I can tell the MacTavish brothers really value Rabbie’s opinion. Rabbie looks at me, and then back at the two brothers.
“I could close the kitchen for the weekend and make a huge batch of baked goods to sell. I trust Nellie and David to run the cafe for the weekend, I’m sure Nel will get a kick out of bossing David around. Plus, all the locals know how to behave when I’m away.”
Hamish rolls his eyes in defeat, and Fiona places her hand on his arm. Hamish immediately tenses up and Fiona pulls her hand away like she’s touched something hot and been burnt.
“What cabin?” I ask the group.
“We own a cabin about a couple of hours from here, it’s in the middle of nowhere. It’s beautiful to go this time of year, we always make the effort to get there a couple of times throughout the year, and I thought it would be nice to take you Americans,” Cam winks at Dylan.
Dylan lightly smacks Cam on his large bicep as he gives her a playful look.
“Only if you want to go,” Rabbie looks at me intently.
“Is there heating and running water in this cabin?”
“Of course, we’re not heathens. But none of that Wi-Fi crap. The weekend will be off the grid,” Cam raises an eyebrow at me.
“I can deal with that,” I look at Rabbie, and he beams a smile at me.
“That’s settled then, we’ll go this weekend before Dylan wants to host Thanksgiving dinner.” Cam tells the group.
“Dinny forget about the ceilidh for St. Andrews at the parish hall too,” Fiona mentions to the group.
“What’s that?” Dylan and I both ask in unison.
“It’s a wee party to celebrate our patron saint St. Andrew. There will be lots of eating, drinking and Scottish folk music. So be prepared to dance and have a few drams of whisky,” Fiona beams with pride.
“If there’s dancing and whisky involved I’ll be there,” I say.
“Me too, I can wear my MacTavish tartan I bought at the Highland Games in the summer,” Dylan smiles at Cam.
“With all the stuff on, we won’t have time to go to the cabin then.” Hamish steers the conversation back to the cabin.
I find it odd that he doesn’t want to go to the cabin when Cam spoke so fondly of it. Cam frowns at his younger brother, and Hamish shifts slightly in his seat.
Hamish looks less than happy about the group ruling against him, and I can’t quite figure out why. I don’t know him all that well, but from what Dylan told me, he’s usually down for anything.
“Oh come on, Ham. It will be fun, it’s not your week to have Ruby,” Fiona places her hand on his arm and smiles at him. Hamish visibly tenses as he looks down at Fiona’s hand on him, she must notice this because she pulls her hand away quickly.
Fiona shifts uncomfortably in her seat before returning her big brown eyes, she’s giving him the classic puppy dog stare. Hamish looks at Fiona, and runs his hand over his face in frustration.
“Aye, okay then. You’ve twisted my arm,” he smiles at her.
Hamish would camp in the freezing elements if Fiona wanted to. Everyone in the group sees that they both have feelings for each other, but they’ve ingrained themselves in the friend zone so deeply they’re scared to make a move.
“Perfect, it’s my shout. Come give me a hand lads,” Rabbie rubs his hands together. Rabbie, Cam, and Hamish stand from the table leaving us girls alone, all three of us watch them walking away, each of us infatuated with them.
“Oh, girls, you’ll love the cabin. It’s so magical this time of year, lots of deer and stags running around. It’s like a fairy tale,” Fiona smiles at us.
I haven’t really had the chance to get to know Fiona on a deeper level, but she seems nice enough.
“I can’t wait,” Dylan smiles.
I look over to the bar to find Rabbie and the MacTavish brothers surrounded by locals. My heart warms to see Rabbie smiling and greeting each person that he encounters, he’s so loved and he doesn’t even know it.
“Hey, Fiona. Do you speak Gaelic?” I ask her.
Fiona looks at me curiously.
“Aye, I do.”
“I’m sorry if I butcher this, but what does mo beag mean?”
Fiona frowns, and her eyes dart over to Rabbie standing at the bar. Damn, I was hoping to act nonchalant about this.
“Where did you hear that?”
She knows full well where I heard it, but she’s just digging for the gossip.
“Oh, I heard Rabbie call Ruby it one time,” I lie.
Dylan is watching on with pure amusement because she knows that Rabbie doesn’t call Ruby by that nickname.
“It means my little.”
Fiona takes a sip of her beer, and Dylan chokes on hers. I blink in confusion because why would Rabbie would be calling me that if he wasn’t interested in me. Surely it’s just a friendly term of endearment, and nothing more. I look over my shoulder to see the boys returning with drinks. And Rabbie’s eyes light up when he spots me, and my stomach does that weird flip-flop thing whenever he’s in my presence.
He hasn’t called me by that nickname in front of the others, only when it’s just us. For two people who have a strict professional relationship, he does a great job at making me feel less anxious. The conversation with my mama feels like a distant memory now that I’m here with him.
Rabbie places a glass of whisky in front of me and I gingerly sip it because I know if I get too drunk I will get the courage to make a move, and I want to save myself from the embarrassment of his rejection. Drinking alcohol and having a crush on someone is a recipe for disaster, so I need to pace myself. These bloody Scots drink like fish, and there’s no way I can keep up with them anyway.
We spend the rest of the night drinking and talking about spending the weekend at the cabin and the St. Andrews party. I catch Rabbie looking at me a few times, and I wish I could tell what he’s thinking. The nickname floating around in my head, why would he refer to me as ‘my little’ if we were just friends. Dylan looks at me too, and she frowns at me. I think she’s realised that something has shifted because usually she’s rolling her eyes at me when I’m drooling over men. But, I’ve stopped seeing Rabbie as another gorgeous man to add to my list of hookups. He’s so much more than that. The way he comforted me after the call with my mama, the way he knew how to say all the right things. It was a feeling I never thought I would have, but a feeling of wanting more than just casual. I wanted more than that, and it’s starting to freak me out. I’m scared that there’s a small part of me that really likes this guy.
I don’t know what all this means, but I need to get through my stay here, and then I can forget about him when I get back to Boston. But I know deep down I’m lying to myself. Rabbie is going to be a hard one to forget.