Martha slumped in disappointment. ‘Aw. You would have made a smoking couple.’
‘Who’s Yvette?’ he repeated when a sting of jealousy curled through him.
‘She was my head chef, and she was incredibly mean,’ Rae supplied.
‘Which really only made her hotter,’ said Martha. ‘Like Maleficent.’
Struan would have been relieved if not for the sour glare Rae directed at her daisy. There was something more to it, something she didn’t want to talk about.
For her, he returned to the original subject. ‘The wedding is Harper and Fraser’s. They’re having it here at the farm.’
‘And I have about three weeks to transform this place into a romantic fairy tale,’ Rae said.
Martha gasped. ‘That’s not fair! Ours should have been the first wedding on the farm!’
‘I mean, if you count the one you and I had under the oak tree, it was.’
‘I forgot about that!’ To Vik, Martha explained, ‘Our officiant was a cow called Buttercup from the next field over.’
‘How romantic. Should I be worried Rae’s going to steal my girl?’ Vik quipped, combing through Martha’s hair with her fingers.
Martha smirked, leaning between Vik’s legs. Struan couldn’t stop his gaze from sliding over to Rae, imagining it might have been them touching one another in the most casual of ways. This shouldn’t be how it ended. Hours ago, they’d been discovering each other for the first time. There were so many more things he wanted to explore, so many more ways he wanted to make her come. So many more things he wanted to whisper to her about when one of them was half-drunk or exhausted or falling a little bit too hard, too fast, for the other.
‘Not at all,’ answered Rae. ‘We got a divorce a week later because I caught Martha writing a love note to Emily Hughes.’
‘Ouch. Let’s hope we have better luck.’
Martha tilted her head to smile up at Vik, eyes glittering with an intimate adoration that made Struan’s throat ache. He felt like he should look away, leave them to it. He didn’t belong here.
‘Anyway, then Dad has his stoma surgery, and I’ll be preparing for the Strawberry Fair. I’ve basically forced him into all of these events, so I can’t slack off now,’ Rae said.
Martha pouted. ‘Not even if we help you? You know Strawberry Fair planning is my second favourite type of planning.’ The first was obviously wedding planning. She’d already shown them her Pinterest mood board over dinner, far more modest than Harper’s huge ring binder. ‘It would just be for a weekend, and you deserve the break.’
After a dramatic sigh, Rae conceded. ‘All right, if you’re sure. But you’re supposed to be guests, not free labourers.’
‘Anything to avoid your gran. You lied, by the way. She still hates me.’
Wincing, Rae rose to her feet, grabbing the empty ice cream bowls and wine glasses from the table. ‘On that note, I’m going to wash up.’
‘I’ll help,’ offered Vik. ‘My bum’s going numb on these chairs.’
They disappeared into the kitchen together, Struan’s eyes unwillingly glued to the sway of Rae’s hips. He needed to get it together, stop wanting things he couldn’t have. He should be happy to have gotten even a taste, not stuck longing for more like a greedy lovesick prick.
His cheeks burned with the weight of Martha’s scowl, and he pulled away, grabbing a tennis ball off the grass to throw to the dog that had emerged in Rae’s wake.
‘What are you doing, Struan?’
‘Playing fetch. Or trying to.’ The dog didn’t bring the ball back, only huddled by her sister to chew at the green felt until the rubber was exposed. ‘Is that Maisy or Milly?’
She gave him a light slap to the back of his head, which he tried and failed to duck away from. ‘You know that’s not what I mean. Why are you salivating after my best friend?’
‘What?’ His eyes widened in a desperate attempt to appear shocked, voice scratchy and high-pitched. ‘No, no way. That’s… ridiculous. She’s Little Rae, and I’m… not…Naw. Don’t be daft.’
‘Good. Keep it in your pants. She’d never be interested in a million years.’
Ouch. Struan bit his tongue, half-tempted to tell her shewasinterested, or at least had been, even if he couldn’t believe it, either.
‘Why do you always make out like I’m a sleaze?’ Was that why Rae had believed him to be a womaniser?
