And don’t get me started on the nights when I caught wind she’d gone on a date.
Och, Lachlan had needed to pull me away from a few dark moments on those nights.
And sure, I’d given her a run for her money, happy to take any bonnie lass on a date, but it had only tortured me when I’d see that wee spark of jealousy flare in Agnes’s eyes when she heard about it. Was it immature of me to be gratified by that response? Aye. Was I still happy to get a rise out of her anyway?
Bloody hell, right I was.
Sighing, I took a sip of my whisky and watched the loch shift in the moonlight.
This was my life now—loving a woman who wouldn’t let me close. Wanting something I couldn’t have. Going through the motions of living while the best part of me stayed frozen, waiting for a thaw that might never come.
I drained my whisky and set the glass on the windowsill.
Maybe it was time to accept that some things just weren’t meant to be.
Maybe Agnes was right, and I should move on. Find someone else. Stop torturing us both with something that would clearly never happen.
The thought sat heavy inside me, and frankly…just felt wrong.
Tomorrow I’d open the pub and pour pints and makesmall talk with the regulars and pretend everything was fine. Same as always. Same as it had been for years.
What else was there to do?
I turned away from the window and went to bed, but sleep was a long time coming.
And when it finally did, I dreamed of auburn curls and moss agate bracelets and a woman who looked at me like I was everything she wanted—and then walked away.
CHAPTER FOUR
AGNES
The bell above the door chimed at half past ten, and I looked up from my list of inventory to see Liora pushing through with a laptop bag over her shoulder and a travel mug of what smelled like very strong coffee.
Bracken, her squirrel familiar, darted between her feet and raced across the room, his eyes twinkling up at me. I bent to scratch his wee head, charmed by him.
“Aren’t you handsome?” I asked and Liora grinned.
“He seems to think so.”
Bracken puffed his chest out and I laughed even though it was the last thing I felt like doing this morning. I’d dreaded Liora’s arrival today, knowing I could no longer put off what I’d thought I’d done so well managing on my own.
I’d barely slept. Every time I’d closedmy eyes, I’d seen Graham’s face on the street—that mixture of love and frustration that made my stomach twist in knots. And beneath that, Liora’s words had echoed on repeat.
A thread connecting you to the Stone.
A dark knot.
Pivotal.
“You look terrible,” Liora said cheerfully, setting her bag on the counter.
“Thank you. That’s exactly what every woman wants to hear.”
“I mean it in a concerned friend’s way.” She pulled out her laptop and a small pouch that clinked with crystals. “Hence why I’m here. As promised.”
I glanced toward the front windows. The street outside was quiet—mid-morning lull before the lunch rush. A few people wandered past, but no one seemed interested in browsing for books.
“Should I lock up?”
