I don’t even want to know who lives in my childhood home.
The main house had never been charming, but it looked downright hostile under the blanket of clouds heavy with rain. They clung to the sides of the small mountains behind the main house like the survivors of a shipwreck to a cliff and gave the small valley a suffocating feel. I wanted to ask Lew to take me back to the distillery. But then again, I’d always been self-reliant to a fault and I wasn’t a child anymore.
I had no idea what I’d expected.
Not this, though.
I didn’t need a welcome committee or special treatment but this was just depressing. Ollie had barely spoken with me in the car and had chosen to work from his phone instead. I mean, I got it. I was obsessed with my job and was the last person to judge someone for it. And yet ….
We hadn’t seen each other in three years. That had been the last time I’d come back for Hogmanay. It had been the saddest holiday season of my life. I had spent the evening crying in my childhood bedroom. After that, I’d decided I’d rather not spend money on that again.
If I had a choice—and my own car—I would have turned around and gone straight back to the airport. But I was stuck, literally and figuratively, for a while.
Let’s just make the best of it, Bright.
Lewis parked his truck in front of the cottage.
It had been difficult to see in the gloomy afternoon, but the closer I got the more I wanted to stay in his truck and hide from the world. I took a few steadying breaths before I got out.
My parents can’t be serious.
The place hadn’t seen any repairs in the last couple of years.
“Coming?” Lewis’ voice was weirdly gentle again. A hug would make me feel better, but I hated myself a little for wanting to lean in and let him comfort me.
“Yeah.” My mouth was dry when I got out of the car and tried to find the right key. Damn it, I had forgotten how gloomy Scotland got in autumn. I dreaded setting foot into the cottage that didn’t really deserve to be called that, if I was being honest. Calling it a ‘shack’ or a ‘hovel’ would have been more accurate.
Here goes.
Ollie had told the truth. Our parents had emptied it out and, unless the two or three boxes I had left in here were hidden away in a closet, they had got rid of my stuff, too. I’d kept a few bits and pieces from my youth. I was glad I’d decided to bring my stuffed orange cat Mr Pickles to Bali with me last time I’d visited. Having the boxes of clothes to go through would have been great and saved me some money, but they probably wouldn’t have fit me anymore.
You’re just trying to sugarcoat everything. They donated all your stuff without asking you first.
Okay, I had to compartmentalise my feelings or I’d start crying, and I didn’t want to cry in front of Lewis.
When I took a few more steps into the living room with its open stone fireplace, Lewis followed me inside. He carried my bags into the bedroom and was gone without a word. I found his behaviour towards me a little odd. Why was he so nice to me when he’d only ever ignored me after our kiss?
Maybe he doesn’t hate me after all?
I found it difficult to nurse any animosity towards him after all this time. I’d thought of him occasionally but hadn’t really kept up with his social media accounts. Maybe I should have.
He was so hot in his torn jeans, which revealed a hint of powerful furry thigh, and the faded shirt he wore effortlessly. Its sleeves hugged his huge biceps, barely able to contain all of his beef.
I had a thing for thick, hairy guys, even though I’d never dated one.
Perhaps, and my brother didn’t need to know, he’d be interested in a casual thing while I was here. I could do with some rebound sex after David had broken up with me a month ago.
Okay no, let’s not go there right now. Compartmentalise, Bright.
My eyes hung on Lewis’ plushy tail when he left the shack to grab my other bag. I’d forgotten to bring it inside and felt bad for treating him like a lackey. I had to make sure to thank him. Maybe I could get on my knees for him? Suck him for old time’s sake?
I snorted at my unhinged inner monologue.
Lewis is at least one striped silver lining in this whole stupid affair.
The hulking Tigris entered the room as if he’d heard me thinking about him.
For the second time today, I stopped in my tracks and stared at the man. The contrast of the black stripes on his fluffy white fur was fascinating. He watched me calmly, his eyes like two large aquamarines, and arms folded over his enormous chest.
