“So... when I was making breakfast, Finn asked me if you were in the en suite last night.”
Blair falters mid-step. “Oh. Wow.” She glances at me. “And... what did you say?”
“I was thrown by it. But I didn’t want to lie. So I told him, aye, you were.”
A beat of silence. Then a woman passing with a shopping bag calls, “Morning!” and leans down to ruffle Gus’s ears. Blair returns the woman’s greeting with an easy smile, but as soon as we move on, the smile falters. “What else did you say?” she asks quietly.
“I said . . . well . . .”
Christ, this is awful.Idon’t know how to define this thing between me and Blair, yet now I have to tell her what I told my son about us? Awkward as fuck.
“I said sometimes, when two adults like each other, it turns into more than friendship. Kept it simple.”
Her expression doesn’t give much away. At last, though, she nods. “I think that’s okay.”
But there’s more to say. “He asked me if that means we’ve kissed. I said yes.”
Another pause. Ahead, Finn runs to the Fisherman’s Memorial, a bronze figure of a man hauling a net, face set to the sea. He circles the base, balancing along the edge as if it’s a tightrope.
“I know this complicates things,” I say. “I didn’t plan it. I just... didn’t want to lie to him.”
“Yeah. I understand that. It’s fine.”
“You sure?”
She lets out a quick laugh, maybe too quick. “Yes! I’m sure.” Then her smile slips again. “I just... don’t want Finn thinking I’m taking his mom’s place. And... you know, I’m only here for the summer.”
A knot tightens in my chest. “Aye. Adult relationships are a bit of a mystery to him, but I told him we’re still figuring things out, and he seemed to get that.”
“He is clever for six.” Her smile reappears, more certain now. “I think you did the right thing. Best to be honest with him.”
Her smile coaxes one out of me, and I blow out a breath. “Right, then. How about takeaway coffees from the Lighthouse Café? And a top hat for Finn while we’re at it.”
“Please! I had to have instant this morning. I hate that stuff so much.”
We collect our drinks and Finn’s marshmallow treat, then Blair and I settle on a bench at the play park while Finn runs off to join some other kids on the swings. Our conversation moves on to lighter things as we watch him pump his legs, hair flying, then race over to the climbing frame and clamber up it. Once the coffees are done and Finn is all played out, we head back to the house.
When we’re almost there, and there’s no one else in sight, Blair says, “If Finn knows we’ve kissed, presumably we can hold hands?” And without waiting for an answer, she slips her hand into mine. It’s warm, soft, and fits perfectly.
Up ahead, Finn glances back. His eyes flick to our linked hands, and for a moment he stares. I tense, braced for more questions.
Instead, he smiles—bright and uncomplicated—then turns and races on, Gus bounding beside him.
After that, my chest feels lighter with every step home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
BLAIR
Finn is wedged between Lachlan and me on the couch, a bowl of microwave popcorn sits on the coffee table, andSpider-Man: Homecomingplays on the TV. Gus has claimed the spot at our feet, though he keeps lifting his head every time someone reaches for the bowl. The sneaky golden retriever already managed to snag a few kernels when Finn got distracted during the ferry scene.
“You used to take that ferry to work? That’s so cool!” Finn had said loudly, after I whispered that fact to him. Then, when the entire ferry was split in half lengthwise: “Bet you’re glad you didn’t take it that day!”
It was when Iron Man flew in to save the day, and Finn jumped to his feet whooping, that Gus lunged for the popcorn.
Now the camera sweeps across the Manhattan skyline, glass and steel reaching for the clouds, and my chest tightens unexpectedly. Those familiar streets, the yellow taxis, the constant hum of eight million people living their lives...
That’s home. This—Scotland, Ardmara, this cosy living room—is just temporary. A summer adventure before I figure out how to rebuild my life back where I belong.
