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She nodded. “He’s got loads of friends, many of ’em girls. They’re all over his Facebook.” Evie had spent far too much time on his profile, comparing herself to Bree and the others. All trendy and perfectly coiffed, some of Nick’s female friends looked like they’d stepped out of the glossy pages of Bella Faith.
“But he’s into you, Eves,” said Fiona, swapping her half-eaten burger for her deep-fried Mars bar. “Even Rupert says so, and he rarely comments on Nick’s love life.”
She dropped her knife and fork. “Well then, shouldn’t things be progressing quicker? Why hasn’t he made a move on me? I can feel him against me when we’re kissing. I know he’s—”
“Up for it?” Sunita waggled her brows.
Fiona rolled her eyes. “Hello, Captain Obvious.”
“His body might be, but who knows about his mind. He seems unsure, like he’s trying to decide: do I take this further or not? Meanwhile, I’m dying to do way more than kiss.” Evie chewed her lip. She’d stayed up till two a.m. the night before, her journal ablaze with erotic scribbles.
“You’re obsessing over his fingers again, aren’t you?” Sunita laughed. “And where they might go…”
“Well, they are long!” said Fiona.
A familiar warmth throbbed low in Evie’s belly. “I wanna feel him everywhere.”
“I think it’s lovely, him not rushing,” said Sunita. “Nick respects you, which is more than can be said for dickhead Stuart.”
“You’ve changed your tune,” said Fiona.
“A lot’s happened in three years, Fi.” Stealing two of Evie’s chips, Sunita sighed wistfully then dunked them in her ketchup. “I’m older and I’m definitely wiser, ’kay?”
“Nick’s a sweetheart. He doesn’t want to push you into anything,” said Fiona.
“And I appreciate it. Truly!” said Evie. “But Nick’s respect is driving me to a whole lotta wanking. I’m gonna get carpal tunnel.”
“Patience, dear Evie.” Fiona fluttered her eyelashes knowingly. “If Nick’s anything like Rupert, he’s worth waiting for.”
* * *
Two weeks later, September blew in bringing cooler temperatures, the fall harvest, and Nick. School and work ate up Evie’s days, but on occasion, they’d watch DVDs (hello, Grease 2) and play games (Jenga and Mouse Trap) at hers or she’d beg off sick from her evening shifts at the laundromat and meet Nick in the secluded laneway beside the stationery shop in Stromness. Turned out, Sunita was right. The town’s narrow alleys and claustrophobic closes were perfect for clandestine conversations and rapturous kisses.
That is, until someone told Nick’s gran about these surreptitious trysts and Evie was promptly summoned to dinner.
Lily Balfour may have been Hoy born and raised, but her humble roots were nowhere on display, replaced by a wealthy husband, a lavish home surrounded by acres of farmland, and a familial legacy unmatched elsewhere in Orkney. She had also given birth to Nick’s nasty father making Evie wonder—had that apple fallen far from the Balfour family tree?
The creaky hardwood in the chandelier-lit hallway suggested she was about to find out.
“So this is the Orkney lass who puts a smile on my grandson’s face!” Lily flung open her arms and beckoned for a hug. “I’m so happy to finally meet you, Evie!”
Squashed within the seventy-two-year-old’s formidable embrace, Evie found a sweet, unpretentious woman who cherished her grandson and the islands’ traditional ways as much as she did. A mutual Orcadian admiration society was born.
That initial dinner became two, then three, which morphed into an open invitation to drop in “anytime to see Nick.” Lily didn’t just like Evie, she seemed to adore her—and happily encouraged their relationship.
If only they had more time.
In less than twenty-four hours, Nick would be back in Salford, stocking his apartment’s fridge and preparing for his second year of university. Evie dreaded the thought of driving him to the airport the next day, but she slapped on a smile, bought an applesauce cake from the bakery in town, and headed to Lily’s. Nick was out on a misty morning walk with Ross, so she settled in with his grandmother, enjoying cinnamon tea and a heartfelt chat.
“I love hearing your stories. I’m gonna miss these visits.” Evie broke off a chunk of cake and spotted raisins inside. Her stomach clenched.
“Miss them?” asked Lily.
“When Nick’s back at uni.”
“Evie sweetheart, you’re welcome here anytime, with or without my grandson. In fact, I think you, Fiona, and I should make dinner and a swadge afterward a regular thing. It’s more fun to gossip when the lads aren’t about.”
“True!” Evie grinned.
