Page 60 of Scotlander

‘Shall we walk for a bit?’ Gabe suggested. ‘Talk when we get there?’

‘Good idea.’

Gabe set a good pace and by the time they reached the castle walls, Willa’s heart was pounding hard enough to mostly drown out the screams of self-recrimination threatening to consume her.

A smile lit up Gabe’s face as they hit the first arch. He stopped just short of where they could see in. ‘Do you remember what it was like when you first came in here?’

‘What? You mean yesterday morning? Yes, Gabe. I can remember yesterday morning.’

‘Okay, bonita. Point made.’ He laughed, completely unperturbed by her shirty response.

She looked at him, then. Really looked at him. Only twenty-four hours had passed between the moment he’d first seen Lachlan but it was like she was meeting a brand new person.

Gone was the cool, inaccessible, ultra-desirable Latino and in his place was a smiley, kilt-wearing, happy guy. One whose mood refused to be tamped. He was also a bit scruffy-looking. He had all sorts of funny little cuts on his forehead and cheeks and, in one case, a bruise.

She grimaced and pointed. ‘Do I need to call a hotline for you? That looks like it hurts.’ She did a dramatic little double take. ‘Wait. Have you and Lachlan been playing kilted Fight Club?’

He huffed out a good-natured laugh. ‘With the brambles, aye.’

She snorted. ‘Okay, Madonna.’

‘Hey! Not fair.’ He shot her a cheeky side-eye. ‘I’ve not married anyone and I am not speaking with a Scottish accent.’

‘Oh, aye, right you are, laddie,’ she tried to roll her Rs and failed. ‘You ken y’are.’

She got a soft kick in the bum for her efforts. And then, with a courtly half bow, he stepped to the side so she could enter the castle gardens.

The expanse, which she was proudly informed was the equivalent of three acres, was almost entirely clear apart from a beautiful collection of ancient-looking trees in orchard formation. The stone walls had autumn-coloured ivy still clinging to them. There was a massive burn pile off to one side, but apart from that, they had single-handedly unearthed an utterly breathtaking walled garden.

‘Oh my god, Gabe,’ she managed. ‘What are you? A new breed of Marvel gardening hero?’

‘It’s amazing, isn’t it?’ He explained how Duncan had appeared on the digger after they’d managed to clear about a metre’s worth of brambles. Despite their protests that they were happy to do it by hand, he’d overruled them and systematically cleared the lot with Lachlan and Gabe acting as his skivvies. ‘Duncan deserves a cape for this. He’s like . . . a ballerina with his digger.’

‘I’m sure he’d love to hear that,’ Willa teased.

‘Yeah. Maybe not,’ Gabe said, eyes glued to the garden, an undimmable smile on his lips. ‘What do you think?’

She pointed at her dropped jaw to show just how amazing she thought it was. She walked up to one of the trees. ‘Oh my gawd. These have apples on them!’ She was beaming now and so was he.

He put on a wicked witch voice and reached for one. ‘Yes, my beautiful young maiden. Would you like to try one of my very special apples?’

She smirked at him. ‘You could totally lure someone into your secret lair with your wicked witch act. It’s very nuanced.’

His bright smile remained, then softened as the energy buzzing between them shifted into something demanding more than pithy one-liners.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

‘For what?’ She was playing stupid. She knew what. But he didn’t actually owe her an apology. This was one of those scenarios that drove her nuts in romance novels. When a simple miscommunication between the couple (he’s gay, she’s not) keeps them at odds for tortuous ages when a simple straightforward question would have sorted things out in no time. It’d be a boring romance, and very short, but far less irritating. And yet, here she was, happily bearing the mantle of the one prolonging the misunderstanding.

‘I had no idea Val had organised the whole Lachlan thing,’ Gabe said. ‘It’s important to me that you and I stay friends. I don’t think I would’ve come here without you cheering me on. Are you up for that? A friendship with . . . apples?’

He picked one off the tree and handed it to her.

She clutched it to her heart, hoping he couldn’t see her hands trembling. He was bearing the brunt of the apology for her idiocy.

‘Of course.’ She opened her arms and they had a weird, awkward-angles hug. What was the most embarrassing aspect about all of this was that it hadn’t even occurred to her that her relationship with Gabe didn’t have to involve romance. She had no doubt he would be an amazing, loyal friend. Just like his sister had been.

She made herself say the words they both needed to hear to draw a line under any further misunderstandings. ‘How could I be mad when the best friend a girl could have reunited her brother with his first love?’