“It really makes you that uncomfortable?” I ask softly.
“Not uncomfortable, exactly, just—” He huffs out a breath. “That’s not—” His eyes meet mine, and there’s something in them that makes my chest grow tight. He looks…confused. A little lost, like he’s walked into something unfamiliar.
“I’m buying you a drink,” I say impulsively.
His brows crease. “What?”
“I’m buying you a drink.” I back away, and he moves as if to follow me. “Stay right here,” I say, pointing a finger at him. “I’ll be right back.”
“Neelu,” he calls, but I’m already moving, making my way to the bar.
Who takes care of this man?I wonder. This man who was there for his younger sisters when his parents passed. Who was present for his best friend through a serious illness, and then for his friend’s mother. Who showed up for my father, a complete stranger to him. Who showed up for these people he only just met today.
I wonder if anyone’s been there for him. And I wonder if he’d ever accept it if they tried.
“Two pints,” I tell the man behind the bar.
“Of what?” he asks, and I hesitate.
“Tennent’s is always a safe choice,” a man says beside me, and I smile. Of course Jacob couldn’t sit still. Of course he’d find some way to try to help.
Maybe I should find it frustrating, but instead, it’s just incredibly endearing.
I turn, planning to give him a hard time, but stop. “Callum?” I say, a bit surprised.
His mouth curves up, lazy and slow. “You remembered,” he says, his voice a deep rumble.
“Yeah.” I offer a polite smile back, then turn back to the bartender. “We’ll do two pints of that,” I say.
“I’ll take one as well,” Callum says. He pulls out a card, sliding it across. “You can keep mine open.” He nods toward me. “And add hers as well.”
“Oh,” I say. “No. Thank you, but I want to get these.”
He shrugs. “Sure.”
We stand in silence as the bartender fills up three glasses, setting them on the counter, then takes our cards and swipes them at the machine in the back.
“I got a call just now about your car,” Callum says.
“Really?”
He nods, pivoting so he’s facing me, his hip leaning against the bar. “Parts should be in tomorrow.”
My eyebrows rise. “I thought you said they’d take a couple days.”
“Called in a couple favors. Least I could do.”
“Oh, I—Thank you,” I say.
“No problem,” he says. Then he laughs. “I’m sorry, I’m stretching the truth just a little. I did call them to see if they could move it along, but they told me the parts were already on their way.”
“Well, thank you, still, for doing that,” I say. “We’ve been a littleanxious to get back on the road.” I pause. “Not that we’re not fans of your town.”
“Oh, sure,” he says. He grins, one side of his mouth a little higher than the other. “And where are you off to in such a hurry?”
“Skye,” I say.
“Skye? I haven’t been there in a while. You ever been?”
