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“I should say so!” Ruairidh’s mum nodded, clearly pleased. “Now, what did Màiri do? I assume you don’t mean me.”
Jenn was quickly realising where her yoga student had inherited her personality. She glanced at Ruairidh, unsure whether to laugh or run. He rubbed the back of his neck, all biceps and quiet mortification—like a man who could wrestle a storm but not his own family. Jenn decided not to stare.
He attempted to explain, and Jenn could see him trying not to combust. “She’s trying to set Jenn up. With Enrique.”
“Oh, Enrique! He’s ever so handsome,” his mum gasped, clasping Jenn’s hand and nodding enthusiastically, like she was booking a venue.
Jenn didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. When she caught Ruairidh’s eyes, something flickered beneath his steady gaze. What it was, she couldn’t tell. But for some reason, her stomach did a stupid little somersault. It was probably just the caffeine buzz.
“You should set them up!” Màiri declared.
Jenn hadn’t expected island life to include a matchmaking committee of mothers and sisters before she’d even finished unpacking. A muscle jumped in Ruairidh’s jaw, his fingers tightening on the counter. She caught Mairead’s eye as Mairead passed the counter, dropping off their drinks—and watched her promptly retreat to the kitchen. Traitor.
To be fair, Enrique was handsome. Charming. A little too charming, maybe. Jenn got the distinct impression he treated dating like a competitive sport—all charisma and no chill. Time to throw herself on the grenade.
“Honestly, Màiri, it’s okay. I don’t want to be set up with Enrique.”
His mum blinked. “Why ever not?”
Jenn suddenly understood every woman who’d ever invented a boyfriend just to end a conversation.
“I mean, you are single, aren’t you?”
Jenn glanced at Ruairidh—who looked like he was about to launch into a monologue about personal boundaries. She could’ve kissed him for that. Dangerous thought. Absolutely not for exploration.
“Mum,” he said, voice taut, “I don’t think Jenn wants to discuss this right now. Or ever.”
“And who are you to dictate that, Ruairidh?” his mum said, eyes glinting like she was enjoying this way too much. It was like Màiri in the gym all over again.
Jenn stepped in again before he could combust. “Màiri, I really appreciate it—I do—but I’ve just arrived. I’ve got loads to sort out, and… yeah.” She was flailing now. Hands doing full interpretive dance. Excellent.
“Besides… Enrique probably wouldn’t want to go on a date with me.”
“Not want to go on a date with you? Don’t be daft!” his mum said, patting Jenn’s hand like a benevolent aunt. Jenn wondered if she’d ever get her hand back. “But you’ve just arrived—fair enough. Maybe once things are settled, yes?”
“Haha… umm… yes. Maybe once I’m all sorted.” Jenn smiled diplomatically, then nodded toward the trays. “Anyway, you’d better enjoy your drinks before they go cold.”
“Oh, I will!” Ruairidh’s mum said, finally releasing her hand and lifting one of the trays. “Lovely to meet you, Jenn. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other. I might try your yoga class next week.”
“Please do! The more the merrier.”
Ruairidh’s mum winked as she returned to her seat.
“I’m so sorry about that…” Ruairidh groaned as he paid, a slight flush on his cheeks.
Jenn waved him off. “It’s fine. They mean well.”
“I love this place,” he said, “but it can be a little on the small side sometimes. Fresh blood arrives and everyone clambers.”
She laughed. “Yeeeup. I’m sure it’ll die down in a week or two.”
He lingered for a beat, as if he was going to say something, fingers drumming on the counter before curling around the tray. His gaze dipped briefly—maybe at her flour-dusted bandana, or her neckline—and then flicked back up, unreadable.
“It’s… good you’re here,” he said quietly, before catching himself, the words clipped as if he’d revealed more than he meant. Her stomach flipped before she could stop it. She had no idea what to say, so she said nothing.
“So… thanks for these. And… see you around.” His voice had dropped just a fraction. He picked up the second tray.
“See you.”
