He just wanted her – first thing in the morning, last thing at night. In his bed and hers, over lunches and picnics and dinners, in cupboards and over mountains and through every season. She was the north on his compass, him a powerless needle in her magnetic field. Had been since the moment she’d come home, for reasons both inexplicable and completely clear. He’d wanted her before it had been a choice, and he loved her now that it was.
Loved.
Fuck, he was in trouble.
Martha burst out of the door, clad in sunglasses and midway through buckling her sandal. ‘All ready, I think!’
Vik and Rae stumbled out behind her, both of them looking as tired as he felt.
He squeezed Doug’s shoulder in silent promise, then drained the last of his coffee. ‘Off we go, then.’
Since Martha and Vik were inseparable, they sat in the back, which left Rae in the passenger seat beside him. That space thing they’d talked about last night wasn’t going so well. Every time he rested his hand on the gear stick, he imagined reaching over, squeezing her thigh, especially when he saw how tense and wan she was. He knew how panic attacks could leave you feeling fragile and hungover, sometimes for days, and all he wanted was to ask her if she was okay, but it was clear Martha knew nothing about her breakdown last night.
He’d flicked the radio on low, though the signal kept fading into static as they wended between villages, forests, hills. He cast Rae a sidelong glance, thinking of the part after the panic last night, when she’d ridden him, sweaty and breathless and so perfect that, for a moment, he’d lost all control, half-expecting he’d see stars for all the lightning forking through him. She met his gaze like she knew. Even this amount of distance felt like thorns between them, shredding his skin with every breath. He wondered how he’d manage if they never figured things out. If, for the rest of his life, he’d have to resist her pull.
‘Summer is going too quickly,’ Martha complained from the back where she was leaning on Vik’s shoulder. The sunlight bled between the tall trees, passing over them in strips of yellow. Martha’s fringe stuck up at all angles, but for once, she didn’t seem to care. Struan had heard the couple stumble drunkenly in after midnight last night and suspected a hangover was at play,which was why he’d tried extra hard not to rush her or irk her in any way. His sister could be murderous when even remotely out of sorts – and when not. ‘I don’t want to go back to real life.’
‘Why? In real life, we have a wedding to plan,’ reminded Vik.
‘Have you thought about where it will be?’ Rae asked, craning her neck to face them.
‘I know I mentioned the farm, but I was thinking recently about how we met.’ Martha laced her fingers through Vik’s. ‘We’d rather stay in St Andrews and hopefully book St Salvator’s Chapel.’
‘So, you’re literally marrying your work, then,’ Struan pointed out, remembering the gothic spires of the university’s church. It would make a lovely venue, but it proved just how attached Martha was to her new hometown. Howunattached she was to Belbarrow.
‘Speaking of work, I asked Emma if perhaps she might have a friend to bring along to the Strawberry Fair.’
He sighed. He hadn’t yet delivered the news that he was running off to Glasgow to escape Martha’s friend. ‘Why? Are you trying to get me into a threesome now?’
Martha’s foot jolted into the back of his seat. Beside him, Rae tried to hide her smirk by peering out of the window. ‘You wish,’ she muttered.
‘Naw.’ He tried to sound nonchalant, but he was nothing but sincere when he said, ‘One woman is enough for me.’
‘Good, because this one isn’t foryou,’ Martha announced, perking up so she was visible in the rearview. ‘She’s for you, Rae!’
Rae choked on her surprise. ‘What?’
‘Don’t worry. She knows you’re chronically unavailable, and doesn’t expect a commitment or anything. But surely, it’s time to start exploring a little more. You don’t want to be a mostly virgin forever!’
Struan’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. ‘Don’t you think Rae is capable of deciding that herself?’
‘Her name is Jo. She looks a bit like the lovechild of Megan Fox and Rachel Weisz – every sapphic’s dream woman, really,’ Martha continued, ignoring him. ‘Super hot bi icon, curves for days, and would absolutely like to sample your taster menu, if you catch my drift.’
His knuckles turned white. He couldn’t compete with the hot librarian fromThe Mummy– the wife ofJames fucking Bond. ‘Jesus Christ, Martha.’
‘What?’ Martha batted her eyelashes innocently. ‘Rae is young and single, and Jo has a thing for chefs.’
‘Rae is not interested,’ Rae said, fingers curling around her seatbelt.
Martha gave a patronising scoff. ‘You can’t settle for a relationship with your vibrator for the rest of your life. I’m telling you, you’ll like her. She’s super laid-back and shouldn’t be too fazed by all your…’ – her fingers danced vaguely – ‘obsessive high maintenance stuff. And she won’t expect you to call her afterwards, which is great, because you never call anyone.’
‘So, basically, you found me a pity fuck?’ Rae’s tone suddenly sharpened, her glare focused on the vast blue sky ahead. ‘What exactly did you tell her about me? That I’m a pathetic, lonely, anxious mess who can’t communicate?’
‘Well, no. I definitely didn’t say pathetic.’
‘Babe,’ Vik warned in a hushed voice.
Rae shook her head, already red-rimmed eyes welling. Struan’s shoulders squared with the instinctive need to soothe her, make it better. The only way he knew how was to break the news. ‘You should tell Emma and her pal not to make the effort. I won’t be at the fair. I’m heading out of town for a couple of weeks after the trip.’
