He grimaced up at her apologetically. ‘It won’t happen again. Promise.’
A knowing look gleamed in her brown eyes, which took on a red tinge in the sun. ‘What exactly is going on with you two?’
‘You two who?’ Struan’s voice cracked the way it always did when he tried to lie.
Vik outstretched her hand. ‘Nail.’
He offered it up, hoping that would be the end of it. Only, she continued talking as she hammered it into the frame. ‘Martha told me you asked for permission to date Rae. She also told me you were denied.’
Struan’s attention fell to his scuffed boots as he tucked his hair behind his ear. ‘If she doesn’t want us seeing each other, there’s nothing I can do.’
‘So, it’s reciprocated.’
A mangled grunt fell from him. He’d been caught out. ‘Rae can do far better than me.’
‘That’s not true.’ Vik climbed down the rungs. He shifted, allowing her space to jump off, with a frown pulling his features. ‘I daren’t get involved in all this, because I know it would upset Martha if I disagreed with her about your family stuff. But the yearning is almost torturous, mate. If you want her that much, maybe you should do something about it.’
‘I tried. Martha said no, and Rae made it clear nothing can happen.’
She ruffled her hair so the curls flopped in every direction atop her head. ‘The same Rae who has been checking her phone constantly this week, despite all of us knowing she usually doesn’t open it at all?’
That didn’t mean anything. She probably had calls to make ahead of the wedding, and he knew from experience that Harper was a quadruple texter.
‘Has she said something to you?’ he couldn’t help but question.
‘No. As far as Martha knows, it’s completely one-sided. But I’m thinking maybe that’s not the case, is it?’
His pulse quickened, but before he could formulate a lie, a fat water droplet splashed on his nose.
He glanced up to find thick clouds looming like black bruises overhead. ‘Crap.’
‘NOOOOOOOOO!’ A shrill cry echoed somewhere around them.
‘Double crap.’ He knew the despairing voice could only belong to Harper, who had been finalising plans with Myra and Doug by the farm shop.
And then the rain started to pour.
‘Triple crap?’ Vik offered.
He couldn’t have said it better himself, especially when Rae scuttled past shouting, ‘Everybody stop what you’re doing!’ through cupped hands. She paused by the half-erected marquee, breathless and already drenched. ‘We might have to put the canopy up first thing tomorrow instead. Is that okay?’
‘Of course.’ Struan had no idea what he was agreeing to, most of his attention stolen by the transparency of Rae’s linen blouse, which clung to her breasts and outlined the low peaks of her dark nipples.
To think he’d sunk his teeth into those delicious curves just over a week ago made his stomach both heavy and hollow.
Rain drops meandered into her plunging neckline and over her goosebump-peppered arms, and that was all he could think about as she turned on her heel and rushed to Harper. When he traipsed over the gravel to follow, he told himself it was for Harper’s sake; he knew how panicked she would be after fretting about the weather all week. After dashing to catch up with Rae, he peeled off his rust-coloured flannel shirt to drape over her shoulders, keep her warm. She faltered.
‘What are you doing?’
‘You look cold. And, er…’ He nodded in the general direction of her chest, where the damp fabric now revealed the lace pattern of that flimsy bra he’d once been allowed to take off.His cock would have been hard if not for the misery that came with knowing he’d never get another chance.
‘Oh.’ She tugged the flannel on, covering her chest. ‘I really should get new clothes for the Scottish weather.’
‘I’m not complaining.’
She ignored him, as she was so good at doing now, wrestling with the dampening sleeves before taking the final steps to Harper.
‘Why did I have to marry a Scot?’ she was whining to Myra and Eiley from under a striped golf umbrella. ‘Why couldn’t I have met someone from Bali or the Amalfi Coast?’
