“Don’t worry, you’re stuck with me now, old man. And I’m sure Lennox will be here more often than not once he arrives.”
Another reason I really,reallyneed to tell Jamie.
That aside, I love the idea of having Lennox grow up here, surrounded by this inn and these people who helped mold me. My dad’s parents passed away before I was born, so Lennox doesn’t have any biological great-grandparents in his life. Or he didn’t, but now he has Angus and Aileen… He just doesn’t know it yet. What matters is they do, and after the way they treated me like their own when I was his age, I know they’ll do the same for him.
Angus’s words encompass that sentiment when he pulls me out of my thoughts: “I can’t wait for him to be here. It will be good to have some young blood around all the time again. Might have to install a new tire swing though. You and Jamie used to get into such mischief playing on that thing.” He laughs, and it’s one of those that comes from deep in his belly.
“I miss that old thing,” I say with a wistful smile. I stand and walk to the kitchen window overlooking the garden. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the bench swing you built, but that tire swing was—” I break off, not sure exactly what to say. There are no words for the memories I have of that swing.
“Special?” Jamie says from behind me, and I turn to see him standing with a hand on Angus’s shoulder. Right where mine was just moments ago.
I swallow, watching him watch me with something tender in his eyes, something I haven’t seen in them for a very long time. “Aye, it was special.” Dropping my gaze to Angus, I say, “Maybe it is time for a new one.”
“I like that idea,” Jamie says, moving around Angus under the guise of looking out the window. He stops right beside me so his shoulder brushes mine. “I thought, since we can’t go on our hike thismorning, I could come with you to see the house. In case you need a second opinion.” The pull of his gaze has me looking up to find him peering down at me. He’s not exactly asking, and I almost want to tell him I can handle it by myself… but I can’t say no to him—not when he’s this close.
I let my gaze travel farther down and take in the pair of worn-looking jeans tucked into wellies, his button-down shirt, and his rain jacket. He looks like he’d fit better on the pages of aBarbourmagazine spread than standing in a pub kitchen. And he looks ready to go.
“You don’t have to worry. I’m sure you have better things to do,” I say quickly, my first reason for canceling still at the forefront of my mind. Being alone with Jamie is going to be torture, especially when he looks like that.
“Nope, I’m all yours this morning.” His eyes glitter a brilliant green in the light from outside and a small piece of hair has fallen out of place over his forehead. I slide my hands down into my pockets to keep from pushing it back.
Why does he have to say things like that to me? All I ever wanted was for him to be all mine, and he never has been. Not even when I thought he might be.
“Okay then.” I huff out a drastic breath and put a foot of space between us. Nothing left but to get this over with. “I guess I’ll go grab my jacket. Is it supposed to rain?”
“It’s always supposed to rain, Avi.” He chuckles, glancing down my body. I ignore the way it makes me feel… The heat, the butterflies—I can’t feel those things. I can’t.
“I’ll get my boots too then. I was planning to walk.” Fresh air and space. I just need fresh air and space.
“I’ll be here when you’re ready,” he says, and I swear there’s added meaning to his words.
Five minutes later, the drizzle is making me very glad for both my rain jacket—which I upgraded when I took this job, knowing it would be both colder and rainier on Skye—and my red wellies. The squelch of the muddy lane under my boots is the only sound between me and Jamie because I’ve been avoiding saying anything, and he seems content to wait me out until I break and talk first.
The cottage we’re headed for is about a half mile down the road from the inn. It’s small with two bedrooms and an office that could easily double as a guest room from what the pictures showed. When we arrive, the listing agent Jenny is standing on the porch to keep out of the rain.
“Mornin’, Avonlea,” she says with a pointed look at Jamie, a question in the rise of her eyebrow. “Mornin’?”
Before I can make introductions, he extends his hand to her with a “Mornin’. I’m Jamie.”
She narrows her eyes. “Not the Murrays’ Jamie, are ye?” Her accent is much thicker compared to his, but Jamie clearly hasn’t lost his ability to decipher even the most broguish of accents.
He ducks his head with a smile and I see a bit of color hint under his freckled cheeks. “Aye, that would be me.”
I almost laugh at how his accent thickens just slightly in talking to her, like it wants to fall back into old habits so badly.
“Finally came home then, did ye? Cluaran’s grown a good bit since you moved away.”
I don’t miss the way he stiffens beside me, but his expression doesn’t falter. “It has. It’s good to be back.”
“And with a pretty lady on your arm.” She winks in my direction, and now it’s me who stiffens.
For one, I am not on his arm—we aren’t even touching. Two, that’s a notion I better shut down right quick before it becomes the next piece of village gossip.
Jamie beats me to it. “Oh. No, just a friend. Had the morning off and thought I’d keep Avonlea company.”
Jenny looks between us, a sharp appraising look in her eye, and then shrugs. “I did think you said it was only you and your son. No handsome young men were mentioned…”
For the love of all that is holy. I blush and shake my head. “Nope. Just me and Lennox. He’s ten.”
