Chapter 13 #2
“Greece,” he says immediately. “James went one year, but it was during the semester, so I couldn’t join. But the islands look beautiful. And I’ve always loved the old poets. I’d like to see what inspired them, see the ancient ruins, explore all of it myself.”
“I think you’d love it,” I say. I finish off my tea, a clink sounding as my cup settles back in the saucer.
“We filmed there four years ago. We were mostly at a resort, but I took some extra time off and spent a few days driving from one edge of Crete to the other. Then we took a ferry and just hopped around the islands. It was beautiful.”
“So that’s where your driving skills come from,” he says. “Not everyone can navigate the Highlands so well.”
“Another compliment?” I grin. “All this praise is going to give me a big head.”
“I’ll be more careful going forward, then,” he says, smiling in return.
He steals a piece of scone off my plate, popping it into his mouth. “So, who’s we?” he asks.
My brows crease. “What?”
“You said ‘we’ took a ferry. Did you do that trip with a friend, or with someone, uh, someone else?” He wipes a crumb off the table, the gesture as nonchalant as his tone, but I understand what he’s asking.
“With an ex,” I say.
“Ah.”
“We’re not together anymore,” I add unnecessarily.
“Right. And are you—are you with someone else now?”
I nearly choke at the directness of his question, and he must see some of that on my face, because he hurriedly continues.
“Sorry, it’s just—last night, when I came to your door, I heard you talking to someone, and I wasn’t sure if that was—”
“Do you think I would have slept with you if I was with someone?”
He flushes. “No. No, I don’t think—it’s only…
I don’t know what it’s like in Hollywood.
You hear all these things about poly, open, uh, different kinds of relationships, so I didn’t know if that was something…
I heard the end of your phone call yesterday.
And you said that you loved them, so I wasn’t sure—”
“So, you were eavesdropping?”
“I didn’t, no, I didn’t mean to,” he sputters. “I just heard it through the door, and I was curious, not that you have to, you don’t need to—I just wondered.”
He’s not looking at me, his eyes on the tablecloth. He’s flustered and out of sorts, completely at odds with the buttoned-up cardigan-wearing professor I’ve come to know.
He wants to know if I’m single?
My stomach flutters.
“I told you I wasn’t seeing anyone,” I say, my voice low. “The night that we met.”
His eyes fly up to mine. “You did?”
Heat rises in my cheeks. “Yes,” I say. It was embarrassing, the way I fumbled over my words, rambling: I’m not with anyone here, I mean. Or anywhere, really.
“I don’t remember that,” he says. “I—” He lets out a nervous laugh. “Those first few moments, when we met, it was all kind of a blur to me. I’d been distracted.”
Under the table, his shoe brushes against mine, and my body reacts, leaning toward him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says softly. His hand travels across the tablecloth, inching toward the spot where mine rests, our fingers almost touching.
“Would you—” He stops, his full lips closing, but I can’t look away.
His eyes are bright, his stubble glinting under the overhead light.
I remember the way he kissed me that morning, when we’d woken up together the first time, the way I felt the faint sandpapery texture of his skin against my cheek.
His hand slides forward, the edge of his thumb brushing against my pinky, sending sparks along my skin.
“Would you maybe—”
“Iain,” a woman’s voice calls. “It’s going to be all right!”
A second later, the door to the kitchen swings open and Iain steps out, a thin sheen of sweat on his pale forehead.
“It won’t be,” he says, his brogue thick. Elsie follows him, stopping when she sees that Jacob and I are in here.
Jacob rises to his feet. “Sorry,” he says. “We were just leaving.”
Elsie waves a hand. “No, no. Take your time. There’s no hurry.”
“No hurry,” Iain mutters, shaking his head, and Elsie shoots him a look.
“We have hours until we need to be there, Iain.”
“Yes,” he says. He frowns, his mouth twisting under his neatly trimmed white beard. “Only hours to sort all of this out.”
I get up as well, placing my napkin on the table. It’s clear the two of them need some privacy.
I try to catch Jacob’s eye, but he’s looking between Elsie and Iain. They’re both clad in formal attire. Elsie in a long-sleeved, starchy black dress, and Iain in a black suit.
“You’re closing to go to a funeral today,” Jacob says, the words coming out more as a statement than a question.
Elsie looks up at him. “Yes,” she says. “For Iain’s brother.”
“I’m sorry,” Jacob says.
Iain nods, but otherwise barely acknowledges him. He’s staring out at something, his pallor a bit concerning.
I take a step toward them. “Is there anything we could help with?”
“No,” Elsie says. “It’s kind of you to ask, but we’ve just had a last-minute setback, that’s all.”
“Setback,” Iain grumbles. “Of all days for Colin to be sick.”
“He can’t help it,” Elsie says gently. “But we can have the service without him.”
“We can, but we shouldna have to.” Iain sighs. “It’s all he wanted. The same song that was played at our grandad’s funeral.”
“What song?” Jacob asks.
“ ‘Abide with Me,’ ” Elsie responds. “It’s a—”
“I know it,” Jacob says. He pauses. “Colin was your bagpiper?”
Elsie gapes. “Yes, but—”
“I can do it. I have my pipes upstairs.”
Iain’s mouth parts, disbelief on his face, and I don’t know why, but I feel the need to chime in. “He can,” I say. “He played at my father’s wedding.” I leave out that that wedding ended in shambles. After all, that had nothing to do with Jacob’s piping. “He’s very good.”
Jacob’s gaze flits over to me, then back to Iain.
“I’d be happy to do it,” Jacob says. “If you want that.”
Iain’s quiet, still watching Jacob, and Elsie prods him quietly. “Iain?”
“Yes,” he says. His throat works. “Thank you.” He takes a seat in a nearby chair, and Elsie comes to stand behind him.
“I’ll go up and change,” Jacob says as he heads for the door.
Jacob leaves, and Iain stares after him, a little dumbfounded. Elsie sets a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly.
“Your husband’s a godsend,” she tells me, and the surprise almost makes me cough.
“Oh, no. He’s not—”
“He is,” she insists. “Colin’s our only piper. There are a few in some of the neighboring towns, and we would have tried calling them, but we only just found out he was sick. We never expected that we had another piper right here.”
She moves to start clearing the table, and I help her, taking the remaining items into the kitchen.
“Iain was very close to his brother,” she tells me when it’s just the two of us, placing dishes in the sink. “He’s been irritable today, and the news about Colin only made it worse. He…Today is a hard day for him.”
“Of course,” I say. “I understand.”
She looks at me then, her expression soft. “I just want your husband to know that we’re grateful. Even if Iain doesn’t express it fully today, or say it, we really are grateful.” She wipes her hands on a dish towel and passes me a dry one so I can do the same.
“Oh, that’s—sweet.” I wipe my hands and set the towel aside. “I’m sure he knows that. He’s not my husband, though.”
“Oh,” she says. She looks down at my left hand and shakes her head. “Sorry. Boyfriend, then.”
“No, that’s not—”
I hear Jacob’s voice through the door to the dining room, and Elsie opens it, waiting for me to follow.
“We have a car at the garage,” Jacob is saying to Iain. “So I’ll just need to stop by there first. Is that okay?”
Iain crosses his arms, and Elsie comes to stand beside him. “Yes, of course. Thank you,” Elsie says. She looks at Jacob, then at me, offering an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. We didn’t get a chance to learn your names.”
Jacob extends a hand to both of them. “Jacob,” he says.
I move forward, extending mine as well. “Neelam,” I say. “Though ‘Neelu’ is fine.”
Jacob, mid-handshake with Iain, stills for a moment, and his eyes flick over to mine. It’s only then that I take in his attire. The same suit jacket he wore to the wedding, the same kilt. His legs back on display, high socks rolled up his calves.
There’s a strip of exposed skin between the hem of his kilt and his socks. Warm, golden-brown muscle, dusted with coarse black hair. I remember how hard that part of his thigh felt, how firm it was, the way it flexed under my touch.
I tear my gaze away to find Jacob watching me. But there’s no tilt to the corner of his mouth, no smirk or cocky expression, even though he’s caught me shamelessly ogling him. Instead, his eyes burn, a candle flickering, dark and full of promise in one moment, bright and incandescent the next.
“We’d like for both of you to come to the purvey after,” Elsie says, and we both pivot to her.
Iain frowns. “We won’t need a piper at the purvey.”
Elsie squeezes his arm. “No. But it would be nice if Jacob and Neelu could come.” She smiles. “Our way of saying thank you.”
“Oh,” Jacob says, shaking his head. “We wouldn’t want to intrude.” He glances over at me again. “And I’m not sure if Neelu will be able to make it to the service, so—”
“I’ll be there,” I say. “At the service.” I pause. “And the…purvey too, if you want us there.”
“Aye,” Iain says, his voice a little gruff. “We do.”
Elsie smiles. “That settles it, then.” She moves toward the door, leading Iain by the arm. “We need to set some things up, but we’ll see you both at the kirk in an hour.”
Jacob assures her that we’ll be there on time, and then he and I are alone.