Page 35 of A Secret Scottish Escape

I wasn’t so sure.

“So, what’s happening with you and Greg? How did it go when you phoned him?”

Faith blanched. She averted her eyes.

“Oh, for pity’s sake! You didn’t ring him, did you?”

“I did ring him,” she insisted, colouring up.

“Then why do I have a sense of foreboding?”

Faith chewed her lip. “I promise you, I did call him last week, but the conversation didn’t go very well.”

And I can guess whose fault that was, I thought to myself.

After I sat there for a few moments in silence, arms folded and my eyebrows quizzically arranged, she relented.

“OK, OK. Stop looking at me like I’m a Bond villain!”

I made a series of tutting noises when Faith admitted she had told Greg she wasn’t really “in the right place at the moment” to date again.

“How did he take that?”

Faith cringed. “Not very well. He said I was just making excuses because he’s a single dad.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Well, I don’t mean to be rude, but you can see why he would think that.”

Faith shook her messy curls violently. “But that’s not true. I may be many things, but I’m not shallow.” She sighed. “You know what I’m like. I mean, I really do like Greg – a lot.”

“Then what is the problem?” I pushed. “Go for it. Stop overthinking things. Forget he’s a dad for now and—”

“But that’s the point. I can’t. Greg and Sam are a unit.”

“So you get two handsome men for the price of one.”

I hoped for at least a shadow of a smile, but Faith was too distracted. She was closing down again. “I can’t take the risk. What if we get too involved and then it all goes tits up? That little boy would be hurt too.”

My exasperation was growing. “But that’s like saying what if I cross the road and get hit by a number 82 bus?”

Faith flapped her hands. “No,” she ground out. “It’s best not to go there in the first place.”

I flinched at the sadness washing across her face. Bloody hell. Faith really did like this guy.

“But look at it from Greg’s perspective,” I argued. “He’s willing to take a chance on getting to know you better and he’s the one with the child, not you.”

Faith looked lost. She plastered on a smile. “Let’s not talk about this anymore.” She forced a jovial tone. “Right, young lady, we’ve got a music venue to sort out. Chop, chop!”

I opened my mouth to say something else but she held one hand up.

“Come on then,” she cajoled. “Where is this to-do list of yours? We’ve got work to do.”

Chapter Seventeen

“Bloody midges!” grumbled Dad, swatting at a couple of persistent ones fluttering by his head. “When you have this place up and running, Layla, you should supply insect repellent in the summer months.”

I gestured to the loch and its gentle, rhythmical sloshing. “I thought that being near water, we might get off lightly.”

I turned back to the Sold sign plastered across the front door of the boathouse. An excited ball of tension rolled around my stomach.