Page 77 of A Scottish Lighthouse Escape

‘I’m fine, thanks. I hope you are, too.’

‘Aye, this old codger is managing. I just wanted to make sure you and the cottage withstood it all last night.’

I flicked an embarrassed look over at Mitch, who was supping his tea. His eyes locked with mine over the top of it. I jerked my head away. ‘Yes, it looks okay. I didn’t actually end up staying in the cottage last night, I ended up having to crash with Mitch in his bothy at the lighthouse.’

‘What? With that handsome young fella?’

Mitch had heard Reece’s comment. His eyes twinkled across the table at me. His lashes were so long, they were almost casting shadows on his cheekbones. ‘Yes. But not … you know…’

Reece let out a chuckle but didn’t push the conversation.

I felt self-conscious again and switched the conversation back to Reece. ‘Is it bad then where you are?’

‘Aye, lass, but don’t you go worrying about me. Looks like there’s a slow melt on the way soon, according to the forecast.’ He began to wind up the call. ‘Once the road conditions improve, I’ll drop by, probably in a day or two.’

‘I’d like that.’

Reece rounded off the call and I set my phone back down by my plate. I felt fortunate right now; warm and swirling with gratitude. I had two people who were actually, genuinely concerned about me, who were looking out for me. I wasn’t as alone as I’d thought I was. This was the least lonely I’d felt since Joe had died, and his other life had been exposed.

I offered Mitch an appreciative blush. Enjoying a delicious breakfast with Mitch, who’d put me to bed when I’d got tipsy and watched over me through the night felt so strange, yet comforting at the same time.

If I were to tell Mia and Lola about him, they’d suggest I get him stuffed and put in a museum.

Had I been still writing, I concluded to myself, Mitch would have made the most wonderful book hero. My readers would’ve been swooning over him. The thought pricked me. Up until his death, I’d only ever thought of Joe as my muse for my book heroes. No one else could or would ever have been able to replace him. But now I knew of his betrayal, that had changed.

I inwardly cringed as I picked up my knife and fork again and cut a section of egg white. What was going on in my head? Was it the lingering effects of the whiskey from last night? If someone had said to me even a couple of weeks ago, that I’d be sharing breakfast with a delectable lighthouse keeper, I’d have told them they were crazy.

Was I thinking straight? Was I enjoying myself? I weighed up these two questions as I sipped my tea and glanced across the rim of the mug at Mitch. Yes, was the answer to both, I realised.

I found myself studying Mitch again across the breakfast table.

My mug stilled halfway to my mouth. Wait a minute. What was I doing? What was I thinking? I swore I wouldn’t get involved with anyone else. No more being let down. I wouldn’t allow myself to be treated like a fool ever again. After what happened with Joe, I’d learnt my lesson – or so I thought. And yet, look what I was doing right now, how I was beginning to feel… ‘Bronte and I will head back home soon,’ I rushed. ‘We’ve taken up too much of your time already.’

I didn’t want to come across as some vulnerable, stupid woman in need of help. I was beginning to slowly realise I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

‘You don’t have to rush off,’ said Mitch.

I picked up my mug of tea and cradled it in my hands again, for something to do. ‘That’s very kind of you, but I really should head back.’ I glanced out of the kitchen window. The snowfall had stopped and there was the faint trace of rose-gold sunshine.

Mitch polished off the last of his bacon and picked up a slice of toast from the silver toast rack in the centre of the table. ‘Kane and I will accompany you and Bronte back home.’

‘There’s no need. You’ve done more than enough already. It’s very kind of you, but I only have to walk back down the cliff path.’

‘And the snow is still thick out there and slippy underfoot.’

I frowned.

Mitch’s brows knitted at me over the table. They brooked no argument. ‘Look, Rosie, just accept my offer to see you back to the cottage safely. It’ll make me feel better, if not you.’

I ground my teeth in frustration before realising my pig-headedness was beginning to melt under those eyes of his. ‘Alright. That’s very kind of you.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Mitch returned to sipping his tea.

‘Mitch?’

His gaze bored into me. My heart gave an odd jitter. ‘Thank you. For taking care of me, for last night and for this morning. I do appreciate it.’