Chapter 3
THREE
WORDS FAILED ME
James
The tourists waited, their rounded eyes taking in the medieval great hall at my back while I forced my mind to focus. Trying to find words.
“We don’t mean to intrude,” the woman said. She tugged on the sleeve of her blue parka, bringing her gaze back to me.
Damn it. Say something.
“We know it’s a family home. But the Highlands Castle Guide’s forums said the laird lets people take a peek at the hall. Is that you?”
I shook my head and managed a smile. Callum was generous and opened his home to anyone who ventured into this remote part of the Cairngorms. Including me, and I’d been here for six months, though under a formal arrangement. Usually, this translated to me talking with greater ease.
Today, I’d backslid.
It had everything to do with the text message left unsent on my phone.
“Who’s this, James? Visitors? I’ll take over. Go grab some lunch.”
Callum appeared at my shoulder, and the trio of hikers switched their gazes to the huge man, their eyes travelling up. I was tall, but he was massive.
“I’m Callum McRae,” he said to them. “You fancy a look around my wee house, aye? Now, mind your step. The flagstones are medieval, and my ancestors nae bothered to keep them even over the years.”
I watched the man lead the beaming group away, utterly relieved to have been spared but beyond frustrated with myself for faltering.
Callum, my mentor, had once told me my occasional reticence to speak made me appear the strong, silent type.
He claimed it would make women fall at my feet, but I hadn’t put that theory to practice.
If anything, it hindered me far too much.
I returned to the coffee table, the heat from the huge fireplace licking my arms. My phone waited, and I unlocked it. My draft message to Beth displayed on the screen.
I apologise for ending the call so abruptly. Can we speak again?
I had to say sorry for hanging up on her last night, so why wasn’t I hitting ‘send’?
Ally landed in the chair across from mine, dropping a platter with a stack of sandwiches on the table. Lunch for us all. His gaze snapped to my phone.
“Who are you texting? You don’t know anyone apart from us.”
Callum had three younger brothers. To the sixteen-year-old twins, Alasdair and William, or Ally and Wasp, as they were known, I’d become part of the family, including getting tormented to kingdom come.
“Mind your own business.” My voice came easily now, and I gave him a look, not that it had any chance of dissuading him.
“Jesus. You’re blushing. It’s a lass, isn’t it?”
I raised my eyebrows, amused, but not willing to confirm a thing.
“Wasp!” he hollered for his twin. “It’s a miracle. Fitz has got a girlfriend. I think he’s practising dirty talk.”
Getting used to living with brothers had been an eye-opener.
I had a sister but I’d barely seen her in years, so the constant pranks took getting used to.
I loved the McRae family, and almost didn’t want to leave when my time was up, but that didn’t mean the hyperactive youngest member got to know all my personal business.
Wasp strolled over, crossing the great hall. “More information needed.”
“He’s texting a woman.” Ally widened his eyes dramatically. “But he’s getting agitated, so I think he’s winding up to sexy talk.”
A delighted Wasp draped himself over the back of his twin’s chair. “Oh man! But Fitz, you have no game. How are you expecting to score?”
Wasn’t that the problem. “I’m not trying to score. I’m asking for car advice.”
Ally pushed back his blond hair and crowed, “Lamest excuse ever. What lass is going to fall for that?”
And the worst of this was? I was speaking the absolute truth.
To hell with it. I sent the message.
“You two are a menace. Leave James alone. James, ye should know better than to indulge either of them. They hunt in a pack.” With his tour group snapping pictures of an ancient row of pillars supporting an inner wall of the castle, Callum barked at his brothers, then chided me, though it was half-hearted.
The big laird’s mind was on other matters.
Mathilda, probably. At least he’d been able to talk to her with ease.
Even writing to Beth had taken me an eternity.
I had no good reason for my poor communication skills. Unless years of only speaking when spoken to counted.
My phone buzzed in my hand. Inexplicably, my heart thundered. Beth had replied.
I wondered if I’d hear from you again. I’m at work all day. Call me at midnight? I swear I’ll be parked somewhere. Wouldn’t want you to freak out on me for a third time.
She added a winking emoji, and I couldn’t help myself—I grinned at my phone. The boys howled at me, but I let them have their fun.
I dropped my head back on the chair and stared up at the great hall’s rafters, recalling over and over my motivation for contacting Beth in the first place.
Not the instruction from my uncle. “Fuck someone. Anyone. Get into the habit of picking up women. When you’re married, you’ll be lucky if your wife lets you between her legs, unless it’s to make your heir. The five-million screw.”
He’d been crudely referring to the codicil on my estate—that my future wife, whoever she might be, received a hefty pay-out for giving me a child.
No. It was far simpler. Despite my annoyance with Beth’s stunt, she obviously had car knowledge I could use. It was a practical decision, seeking her out.
Nothing to do with the hug and the addictive feeling I’d gotten from her touch. Those things, I had no use for. None at all.
All afternoon, I was preoccupied over the call, about what to say.
Callum could have complained to me on my lack of focus on the job—we’d sweated over clearing thick heather and hammering fence posts into the ground, trying to stop the deer herds getting into one of the farms—but he’d been just the same, and we quit early.
Giving me far too much time to overthink everything.
It was no good. I needed to get out. Burn up some energy before talking to Beth.
After an early dinner, I drove out of the huge gate posts that marked the castle road, heading north to the coast, setting my sights on the military base at Lossiemouth, going to visit Gordain.
Of all the McRae brothers, I was closest to him, despite him being away at the base most of the time. And though not indiscreet, he’d also been open about his previous…encounters with women. If I could learn from anyone, it would be him.
I’d sent him a message, and he’d confirmed he’d be back from manoeuvres, and we could meet in the base’s gym. Then I settled in for the ninety-minute drive.
The road meandered through the mountainous plains. Rolling green forests and the occasional tiny town were the only features in the stark, open Highlands country. At six, there was not another soul on the road.
Darkness descended, the sun setting.
The trip was meant to give me some headspace, but with nothing to distract me, I became stuck in my thoughts. All of them were shaped like a short, feisty woman.
The lights of the airbase were a welcome sight.
I drove through the gates and into the restricted area, parking and sitting tight to allow two servicemen to march over to my car.
I knew the drill; this wasn’t my first visit.
One ID check and a radio call later, and I was permitted access and directed to a guest parking zone.
I exited the car to a fresh breeze coming in off the sea.
From my left came a roar—an aircraft on the brightly lit airfield. It increased in volume, readying for take-off. The ground rumbled, the tone changed, then the plane punched forwards, tearing down the runway.
I drew in a breath, raking my hair back from my eyes. Gordain did this. He was in pilot training with plans to fly search and rescue helicopters. I envied him the freedom to choose his life. His own career.
His escape into the sky.
The weight of duty and responsibility I had around my neck, in that moment, became a noose.
“James!”
I spun around. My friend jogged over, already in his gym shorts. He’d cropped his hair since I’d seen him last, now sporting the buzz cut usually worn by new recruits. With a job promotion coming up, he was making himself battle ready, perhaps.
In his usual style, Gordain grasped me into a hard bear hug, slapping my shoulders.
Hugging him back melted away a large chunk of my stress. “Did I interrupt your evening?”
“Naw, you’re making it good. There’s nae much going on. The weather’s going to be shite for ops, so we’re bedding down.”
We set off for the low building that housed the gym.
“How are things with your uncle? Still quiet?”
“At the moment.”
My friend swung open the door, and I followed him in, warmth hitting me along with the tangy scent of hard-earned sweat.
Men and women sat or stood at the different machines, chatting or exercising in silence.
Some in plain military kit, others in their own clothes.
A couple of them raised a hand to Gordain, and he acknowledged them with a grin.
“Has he asked you again to leave?”
“Not yet.” I stripped off my layers, grimacing at Gordain’s question. Richard, my uncle, wanted me back living and working with him, but I’d blotted it from my mind.
By unspoken consent, Gordain and I warmed up, then he raised an eyebrow at me—a question on what to do next. I chose the running machines, and we took a pair side by side. That way I could talk without looking him in the eye.
Buttons beeped. Belts whirred. We set off on a steady pace.
After a few minutes, Gordain reached over and pressed the controls on my machine to increase the speed. I gave a low laugh and stretched out an arm, doing the same to his, an old competitiveness stirring. That was how we’d met, nearly a year ago. In a gym. A day which had changed my life.
After a minute, I upped the pace on his again.
Gordain barked a laugh but this time left mine alone. “Well, talk, then. You drove all the way out here for this. I’m all ears to know why.”