Chapter 46 Alec
FORTY-SIX
ALEC
Summer stares at me in horror, her whole body shaking. “No,” she whispers.
“Aye.”
“Alec! No, you can’t—”
I suck her taste off my fingers, trying to ignore the pulsing throb in my dick. Jesus Christ, it hurts. “Go fix your lipstick, you’re a mess.”
She grabs me by the collar. “Alec, please.”
“Serves you right,” I tell her. “You don’t get to tease us and then just walk away. Now, get yourself cleaned up, and teach the old ladies how to do a cat eye. I’ll sort you out when we get home.” I run my eyes over her trembling body. “Maybe.” I turn and leave her.
“This is the worst day of my life!” she shouts after me as the door swings shut behind me.
I make my way to the bar, dropping heavily onto a barstool. Isla has gone back to pouring drinks, and she wordlessly draws me a pint of my favourite ale. I take a deep gulp, but it does nothing to cool the heat burning in me.
“Thanks,” I tell her. “You look nice, by the way.” She does. Summer’s done something to make her eyes look dark and smoky.
Isla rolls her eyes, but I catch her checking out her reflection in the window. “That English girl is a handful.”
“Aye.”
She pulls herself a pint. “You shagging her?” she asks conversationally, and I almost choke.
“What?”
“See, I’m confused. A couple weeks ago, I thought McLeod brought her here on a date, but Fraser keeps looking at her bum, and you just came out of that hallway with a hard-on. What are you boys getting up to at Lochview, hm?”
I fight the urge to subtly readjust my jeans. “I don’t have a…Summer is a guest. That’s it.”
“Right,” she says. “Well, either you’re all shagging her, or you’re all really, really repressed.”
I need a change of subject. I nod at her engagement ring. “Anyway, congrats. Emmy is a lucky girl.”
She stares at me for a second. Then she picks up a dish towel and snaps it at my face.
I sputter on my beer. “What?!”
“That’s all you have to say?” she hisses. “Congrats? We got engaged six months ago, shithead!”
“Didn’t you get the champagne I sent?”
“Aye, we got your champagne. You’re meant to be my friend, Alec. You live a ten-minute drive away. You really couldn’t find the time to have a drink with me in person?”
She’s right. I owe Isla that. She’s a good friend. Back when my dad pulled me out of school, she used to loan books for me out of the library and give them to Fraser and Cameron to pass along.
“Sorry,” I say gruffly. “I’ve been busy.”
Hell, I shouldn’t even be here now. What would my father say if he knew I was here on a Friday night, drinking with friends instead of working?
Isla narrows her eyes. “I see that,” she says cryptically. “How is Lochview? Any updates?”
Across the room, Summer reappears. She’s fixed her makeup, but her cheeks are still flushed, and her collarbone is wet, like she tried to cool off in the bathroom sink. My eyes follow her as she goes to rejoin her crowd. “Fine,” I say evasively.
“Aye? Council isn’t buying up the land, perchance?”
My attention snaps to her. “What? You know about that?”
“I was suit shopping in Edinburgh last week. Saw this on a notice board in the shopping centre.” She pulls a glossy leaflet out of her pocket and slides it across the bar to me.
HIGHLAND RESORT OPENING SOON! screams the title. Plan your dream wedding, honeymoon, or getaway at one of our luxury cabins deep in the heart of Scotland.
Underneath it is a computer-generated image of rows of glassy cabins lined up on a very familiar hillside.
My stomach goes cold. There’s no way.
“That’s Lochview land,” Isla says flatly. “What is wrong with you, Alec? You’re selling? Without even talking to the villagers first? A resort up here would affect all of us. What, has the farm gone under or something? If you’d told us, we could’ve helped—”
“I’m not selling,” I say, flipping the leaflet over. On the back is a map of the proposed resort drawn out on my land. At the bottom of the leaflet is the logo of the local council.
I’m so angry I’m shaking. “They keep calling,” I grit out. “Asking for me to sell the land. I’ve refused every time.”
“Wait, seriously?” I nod, and Isla whistles. “Shit. Sounds like they’re going to force you to sell.”
“They can’t do that.”
“They can.”
I slam down the leaflet. “They’d need to survey the locals first. No one would agree.”
“Aye.” She crosses her arms. “Want me to kick up a fuss, then? Put a call to arms in the village group chat? The stitch and bitch club will probably storm the council headquarters themselves. You know how rowdy that lot get.”
I’m already shaking my head. I don’t want it getting out that I can’t keep hold of my own land. “I’m dealing with it. I don’t need help.”
Isla stares at me. “Why are you so thick?” she demands. “Genuinely. Did you get headbutted by a lot of sheep as a kid or something?”
“I don’t need help,” I repeat. “Lochview is my responsibility. No one here can help me—”
“No one here can help you?” Isla repeats incredulously.
“There’s not one person in this room who doesn’t know you, you absolute weapon.
Half of them probably helped tie your shoelaces when you were a bairn.
Dalbrae would drop everything to lend you a hand.
That’s how things work around here, and you know it. ”
“I can handle it myself,” I repeat stubbornly, sliding the leaflet into the pocket of my jeans. “Please don’t tell anyone about this.”
Isla looks like she wants to rip my hair out, but before she can, Fraser appears, an arm around Summer.
“I reckon we should get this one home,” he says fondly. “No wonder she barely drinks. She only had one whisky, and look at the absolute state of her. She’s all red and wobbly.”
“I’m not drunk,” Summer insists. Her eyes narrow on me in a glare. “Just…dissatisfied.”
“No idea what that means,” Fraser says cheerfully. “You coming, Alec?”
I stand, shrugging on my coat. “Aye. Let’s go home.”
“See you next year,” Isla yells after me.
When we make it back to the farmhouse, the place is dark. Cameron stomps into the kitchen, muttering something about making a drink. Fraser unceremoniously tosses Summer over his shoulder and carries her to the sofa.
She spent the entire car ride home squirming in the passenger seat and glaring at me in the rearview. It looks like she’s still just as het up as she was in the pub.
Good.
“My God,” Fraser says, sitting down heavily with her on his lap. “This dress. Did you make it to kill us? Are you an assassin sent to end our lives?”
“Yes,” she says, winding her arms around his neck and giving me the finger behind his back. I have to fight not to laugh. “This was my evil plan. Do you like it?”
“Never stop.” He starts kissing a line down her chest. She moans loudly, arching into him shakily.
He groans, biting her neckline. “God. We need to get you in some jammies and in bed. You’ll wear this dress for me tomorrow, yeah? When you’re nice and sober and I can do whatever I like to you? I’m not too proud to beg. I’ll get on my knees for you whenever you like.”
“I’m really not drunk,” she insists.
He laughs. “You’re all glassy-eyed and shaky, baby. You can’t sit still. You couldn’t even form full sentences at the pub.”
“I’m not drunk! I’m just, like, violently horny.”
He pauses. “Oh wait, really?” He considers this. “I mean, I know this shirt makes my arms look great, but I didn’t realise it was that powerful.”
“Yes,” she says, eyes flashing. “Because Alec fingered me and then didn’t let me come!” She points at me like she’s accusing me of witchcraft.
I hang up my coat.
Fraser gasps, gathering her to his chest protectively. “What? No! Alec! Why would you do that?”
“She deserved it,” I say. “She came out in a dress that barely covers her arse and no underwear.”
“She’s just…expressing herself through fashion! You are so mean. Come over here and make her come right now. You’ve deprived her of a basic human right.”
Summer nods frantically. “We all have the right to come!”
Fraser shakes his head mournfully. “God, I bet she’ll leave us such a bad Airbnb review now.”
“One star—he edged me and then left me to die,” Summer says grimly.
I smile. I know I should get back to work. I need to call my lawyer and show him the leaflet. I need to work out what the hell I’m going to do about the council.
But I can’t stop myself crossing the room to sit on the coffee table. Summer wriggles on Fraser’s lap, still pouting at me. “I actually don’t want you to finish me off anymore,” she declares. “I have Fraser now.”
“Aye,” Fraser rumbles, burying his face in the curve of her throat. “You always have me, baby. I’ll do whatever you want.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” I say, watching as her breath comes faster.
Her eyes narrow. “No, you’re not.”
“No, I’m not,” I agree. “But you’ve been uncomfortable for a while. Let me make it up to you.” I take her hand, rubbing my thumb soothingly into her palm.
She sniffs, pulling herself upright. “Beg for it,” she orders.
“Now, I think you know what I’m going to say to that.” I lift her hand to my mouth and kiss her wrist right at the pulse point. At the same time, Fraser nips at the side of her throat. She gasps, her body jerking. A pink flush is rolling down her cleavage. I want to lick it.
“Fine,” she says imperiously. “I will permit you to get me off. You can help Fraser. Just this once.”
“Just once?” I trail my lips up her forearm. “Shame.”
“Or maybe more,” she babbles as Fraser cups her breasts. “I will review on a case-by-case basis. But you’ve lost your automatic pass.”
I laugh and slide off the coffee table onto my knees, draping one of her soft legs over my shoulder. “Well, then, I suppose I’d better make this count.”
There’s the sudden sound of shattering glass from the kitchen, and we all freeze.
“Cameron?” I call when the silence stretches on too long. “Are you okay?”
No response. I hear the skitter of soft paws on tile, then a bark. Fraser and I exchange a look. I gently unhook Summer’s leg, and we all head to the kitchen.
Cameron is lying on the floor in a pile of broken glass and whisky. His face is dead white, and he’s breathing hard, clutching his knee. Scout is standing guard by his side, nudging him with his nose. He looks up and barks another alert at me.
I feel frozen.
No. No, no, no.
“What happened?” Summer cries behind me.
Cameron doesn’t look up. “Leg went. Dropped the bottle.” He pushes Scout away. “Away, boy. You’ll cut yourself.”
I crouch at Cameron’s side, suddenly so scared I can’t breathe right. “How bad is it?”
He waves me off. His eyes are glassy with pain. “Don’t fuss.”
I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. “Can you stand? Did you cut yourself? Here—” I lean over to help him up.
He shoves me away. “I said I’m fine,” he snarls. “Leave me alone.” He grabs hold of the kitchen table and slowly levers himself to his feet. We’re all silent as he limps painfully out of the room. Scout looks at me, whines, then trots after him.
Summer goes to follow them both, but Fraser catches her and pulls her into a hug instead. “Leave him, honey.”
“But he looks like he’s in so much pain! Is that normal?”
“Aye. He gets these flare-ups, sometimes. I can promise you that he wants to be alone right now.” He sighs and kisses the top of her head. “I’ll get a mop.”
I shake my head numbly. “I’ll clean up. Take her to bed.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Fraser nods, leading Summer out of the room. I look down at the puddle of whisky spreading across the black tile. In the low light, it almost looks like blood.
The guilt that lives inside me gnaws. It chews on my organs. It sucks on my veins. Soon, it will hollow me out completely.
I start picking up glass. Even though it’s a clear night, I could swear I hear the howl of a storm across the hills.