‘You’re not a sleaze. You’re a commitment-phobe, and you chase after the wrong people so you don’t have to settle for something serious.’ She moved to Vik’s chair, slapping her hands free of grass. ‘That’s why I’m going to take the reins. I’ve found your perfect match. She’s coming to the Strawberry Fair to meet you.’
‘Excuseme?’
‘No need to thank me.’
‘Martha, I don’t need you to start picking out women for me—’
‘Well, there is a gay microbiology professor I’d considered if you’d rather—’
‘No! Nobody!’ Struan cut in, anger struck like a match. He’d known before that Martha viewed him as some sad, lonely wet wipe with no direction in life, but this confirmed it. Besides, even if he did want to date, it wouldn’t be Martha’s hand-picked recommendations. His sister had high standards, and he rarely met them. He’d let her set him up twice in his life: the first, with a woman who talked down to him like he was an animal, the second with a guy who had only been convinced to meet Struan because Martha had told him he was an aerospace engineer. Imagine his surprise when he’d been bombarded with questions about missiles and spacecrafts.
His sister was surrounded by domineering intellectuals like her, people who expected drive and ambition from their partners. She wanted Struan to want that, too.
He didn’t. He existed on the outside, striving for contentment before success. He didn’t want to plan out his future brick by brick, and he certainly didn’t give a flying fuck about salaries or how much money they expected to have splashed on them during the first date.
And that, of course, was the other problem: none of these people would be Rae. He didn’t care if Martha picked a man or a woman, a professor or a lab technician or a bartender. He couldn’t see anything beyond the fire she’d kindled in him.
He chewed nervously on the inside of his cheek. If they had to broach this subject, maybe there was a way to tell the truth. ‘What if I wanted to take Rae out for a date? Would it really be so bad?’
‘Yes!’ Martha stood up, hands slapping her thighs in frustration. ‘Are you seriously even asking me that? She’smybest friend!’
‘I like her,’ he said quietly. ‘I like her a lot.’
‘Right.’ A scoff dripped from her throat. ‘You like everyone, but when it comes down to it, you neverdoanything. You’re just sitting back, waiting for life to drift by you while everyone else lives. You’ve convinced yourself you like Rae because you know she’ll be leaving again in no time, like she always does. She’s unattainable, and that makes her sexy, because at least she won’t expect a commitment come September! God, Stru. You’re so predictable sometimes!’
Struan tapped his fingers together in an attempt to dissolve his thick impatience. Martha wasn’t being fair. She only saw snapshots of his life, things she wanted to see. Failures. She didn’t see his loneliness, or his desire to really, truly connect with someone.
She didn’t see his infatuation with Rae.
He wanted to fall asleep and wake up next to somebody. Wanted to be known – seen – as he was, not the wildcard he could so easily be dismissed as. But because he lived in a small shack off grid, because he had messy hair and didn’t care if he wore clashing colours, because he liked to make people laugh rather than sit with uncomfortable small talk, he wasn’t serious enough.
He had nothing to say that wouldn’t betray all the hurt bubbling inside him, so he stared down at his scuffed boots instead.
‘If you want to date someone, seriously, it can’t be Rae,’ Martha said. ‘I thought that would be pretty bloody obvious. Please, just meet Emma. She’ll love your little guided hikes and whatnot, and she won’t put too much pressure on things if you get anxious, and she’s a Gemini, which means she will absolutely keep you humble.’
Yes, because that was what he needed: to be humbled.
‘Fine,’ he snapped. ‘Whatever you’d like.’
Martha rolled her eyes. ‘Rae!?’ she repeated in disbelief, as though he’d suggested something far more outlandish than a date. The joining of a cult, perhaps.
Rae had been right, then. He’d known that Martha wouldn’t approve, but he hadn’t expected her to dismiss him entirely. When Martha marched off to join the others in the kitchen,he could only sit, feeling winded by the whole encounter.
It took him a long time to realise that it was because the person who he loved most only saw him as incapable. Unworthy.
And, deep down, he felt the same way about himself.
26
By the end of the following week, Rae was beginning to believe she might actually be able to pull off two events before the end of summer. A marquee and floral arch had been delivered and stored, ready for the wedding celebrations, and Rae had already run her menu plans by Harper and Fraser. She’d forgotten just how enthusiastic Martha could be when she chipped in, but Rae wasn’t complaining. While she focused on the wedding, Martha had dived into Rae’s Strawberry Fair checklist, as well as offered some samples to farms and businesses outside of town on her day trips with Vik.
Of course, the lighter workload meant that there was no avoiding the weekend visit to Aberdeen, but she wasn’t thinking about that yet, nor was she thinking about Struan and how much she missed him. Between the influx of tourists and Mountain Rescue duties, she’d barely seen him: a good thing, she’d convinced herself.
Less good was the near constant ache, both between her ribs and between her thighs, her body’s way of making this unbearable. Her fingers weren’t enough to find release, and her vibrator was too loud with Martha and Vik in the spare room next door – although,that hadn’t stoppedthemfrom having a bit of fun in the wee hours – so she was trapped with painful lust, wishing she could go back to that afternoon at the falls, when she’d been full and satiated and finally, finally relaxed.
She’d been so busy that, only now, with her laptop open on the farm shop counter, did she have time to check her emails, which were mostly composed of Pinterest notifications from Harper adding more images to her shared wedding board. Rae smiled. It looked like she’d decided on a cake, which was thankfully not Rae’s responsibility. She enjoyed baking, but she’d never been much of a pastry chef. Her three courses were more than enough to manage.
A few businesses had gotten back to her about marketing features and produce purchases, and she worked through these with Maisy on her lap and a glass of peach iced tea in front of her. This was the only place she could find quiet, especially with the intermittent rain providing a calming patter against the roof’s cedar shingles. She loved her house guests, but she’d forgotten just how exhausting it could be to share a space with other people. She’d seen Martha’s knickers more than her own this week.
