I shake out the messy curls and when I look back at Greer, he’s swallowing thickly.
There’s a moment of insecurity, but then he lightly tugs on one of my curls. “It’s good to see you letting your hair down. It feels nice, doesn’t it?”
I nod, and lean into his chest as Rory plays a slower tune. Maybe I try to steal a little sniff of him, knowing damn well I won’t be able to smell anything.
The spell is broken when more and more people are asking for refills.
“Alright, alright,” Greer says, and almost absent-mindedly he kisses the top of my head. He clears his throat after heading back behind the bar, refilling drinks.
When we’re back on our stools, Birdie gives me a conspiratorial look.
“Don’t start,” I say weakly, and she raises her hands in mock surrender.
“I wasn’t saying anything. Should we go see what sweet treats Effie made for tonight?” she asks.
“Yeah, let’s do that,” I say, needing to get my head on straight.
We pay our tab and Greer gives me another charming smile before we head back to the Beag for the night. The weekend is over and I had an amazing time with Birdie.
Effie made blueberry tarts that we eat in bed.
“This worked out perfectly having the weekends together. This was great. I was thinking next weekend we could go bigger. Maybe you could take a day or two off? I really want to go to Oban, Mom spent all her summers there.”
“I’d love that,” I tell her, not wanting to burst this bubble we’ve made.
I’ll tell her soon about my job and in the meantime maybe attempt to flirt with some very attractive Scotsmen. No strings attached, no feelings, just fun.
I can handle a little fun.
8
greer
I can’t getthe Omega out of my head.
Dancing with her just added on to the obsession. Something that Callum is being a fucking gitter over.
“You danced with her, after that display?” Callum complains as we wander around the market getting fresh produce and meats for the week.
When we started Greer’s we knew that we not only wanted to give back to the community in the sense of providing good food and a sense of kinship, but we also want the money to stay in town, which means buying local as much as we can.
“She’s got your bollocks in a real fucking twist considering you want nothing to do with her,” I counter and he scoffs, haggling with the fish salesmen for the order he wants to place this week.
As if my thoughts and our argument manifest her, a tousled mound of bouncy dirty-blonde curls are headed my way.
She has a recyclable tote on her arm and a cheery Effie at her side. I grin to myself. Callum is going to lose his?—
“Nan?” Callum says, noticing her and completely ignoring the fact that Maisie is with her.
“And Maisie, don’t be acting like you’ve forgotten your manners,” the old woman chides him, and if anyone can disarm Callum, it’s his nan.
“And Maisie. What are you doing at the market?”
“Are you forgetting that I run a very popular B&B?” Effie replies and Maisie is holding back a grin.
We’re getting into the down season, not that it matters. It seems like business for Effie has been slower than usual these past two years.
“You know I would do your shopping for you,” Callum replies. He handles a lot of the prep work for Effie along with Greer’s. He might be a prick sometimes, but he’s sweet under that facade he puts out.
