Page 90 of The Heart of MacLeod's Cove

He wore jeans and a white shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms, nothing flashy — but somehow he still looked like he’d stepped out of an advert and into their ordinary lives. Women’s gazes slid over him with open appreciation. A couple of men glanced his way, hackles rising on instinct, then pointedly looked back at their beers.

Lucy sighed under her breath. ‘He’s so arrogant. You’ve got to love him.’

‘Do you?’ Sam asked, clearly irritated to see Jen also watching Oliver.

‘Oh, yes.’ Lucy lifted her hand just as Oliver spotted her. He smiled, slow and unguarded, and started toward them. ‘Besides, arrogance isn’t his only virtue. It turns out he’s kind, generous and —’ she wiggled her fingers as he came closer ‘— he loves me.’

Jen’s expression softened in that way that always made Lucy’s chest ache. ‘Well, that pretty much trumps everything.’

‘It does.’

Sam harrumphed. Both sisters looked at each other, then laughed.

‘He’ll never get it,’ Lucy said, giving Sam a playful punch on the arm.

Sam raised an eyebrow, slipping an arm around Jen’s waist. ‘I get more than you think. You —’ he pointed at Lucy ‘— don’t care about arrogance because you know it doesn’t apply to you. And you —’ he turned to Jen, his expression gentling ‘— are correct as usual. Love trumps everything. Even admiring Oliver.’

Lucy groaned and looked away as they kissed. ‘Right. That’s my cue to go and greet the figure in question.’

She stepped forward just as Oliver reached them. He stopped, and for a moment it was just the two of them in a sea of noise.

‘You’ve done it,’ she said quietly, sweeping a hand around the room. ‘You actually did what you promised.’

‘We did it,’ he corrected. His gaze skimmed the bar, the crowd, the people overflowing onto the covered deck. ‘If you hadn’t got to me with your underhand tactics, I’d have been able to knock the whole thing down and put up something glass and soulless.’

‘True.’ She grinned. ‘You’re welcome.’

He leaned closer, his voice dropping. ‘The council approval letter came through this morning. The heritage protection order is in place. No bulldozers. Ever.’

The words released something inside her she hadn’t realised she was still holding. She let out a slow breath.

‘So it’s really safe,’ she said.

‘It’s safe.’ He touched her cheek briefly, the gesture quick and private. ‘And now the partnership agreement is signed, the Old Colonial is officially a MacLeod–Perry-Warnes venture. Or Perry-Warnes–MacLeod, if you ever decide to be traditional about names.’

Heat crept up her neck that had nothing to do with the crowded room. ‘Don’t push your luck.’

‘Who, me?’ His gaze warmed. ‘I’ve learned the hard way not to push you at all. Just to stand patiently and hope you’ll drag me where you want me.’

‘Well, at least you’re trainable.’ She slipped her hand into his. ‘Come on. Mum wants to make a speech. She says we’re not allowed to cry. Huh, she’ll be the first one to crack, swiftly followed by Jen.’

‘And you,’ he murmured. She narrowed her eyes, but couldn’t contradict him because it seemed that in the last six months she’d been more emotional than in the rest of her life combined. Everything — happy and sad — brought her to tears. But hell would have to freeze over before she admitted it.

They wove through the crowd toward the small platform by the fireplace where Kate, Megan and a couple of the older locals were gathered. The microphone looked as if it had been borrowed from the school hall. The sign behind them read: COMMUNITY THANK-YOU & RE-OPENING.

‘There you are,’ said Kate, spotting them. ‘We were waiting. It would hardly do to launch the community rooms without the presence of our reformed outsider.’ She eyed Oliver with a mix of affection and dry amusement.

Laughter rippled through those nearest.

Oliver dipped his head. ‘I’ll take that. Thank you for letting me be here at all.’

‘Ridiculous man,’ Kate said fondly. ‘You saved our hotel.’

He opened his mouth, then closed it as if thinking better of arguing. Lucy squeezed his hand.

Kate took the microphone. Her voice, quiet at first, gained confidence as she spoke about the history of the hotel, the dances held in the old ballroom, the soldiers billeted there during the war, the weddings and wakes and farewells. About what it meant to have it back — not as a monument, but as a living part of the village.

‘And,’ she finished, eyes shining with tears, ‘for the first time, it’s official that this hotel belongs to all of us. Not the bricks and mortar, but the right to gather, to host meetings and celebrations, to have a sheltered space when the southerlies cut across the bay. Thanks to the new trust arrangements, the community rooms will never be taken from us again.’

Applause swelled. Lucy swiped away a telltale tear. The MacLeod Community Trust hadn’t been Oliver’s idea, but he’d listened. He’d put his lawyers and accountants onto making it reality. Now a portion of the hotel’s profits would flow into that trust, looking after the Cove in a way her great-grandparents could never have imagined.

She glanced sideways at him. For a man who claimed not to understand community, he’d done a pretty good job of building one.

He caught her look. ‘What?’ he mouthed.

‘Nothing,’ she mouthed back. ‘Just… love you.’

The expression that crossed his face — startled, soft, almost reverent — was one she suspected she’d never tire of.