Page 31

Jenn blinked. “Sorry?”

Seumas gave an exaggerated shrug. “Och, probably nothing. But he’s usually a hard one to rattle. Must be all the cake flying around.”

Jenn felt her face heat. She mumbled something about refilling the biscuit plate and beat a tactical retreat before they could say more—but not before catching Shona’s unmistakably smug glance in her rear view.

Then she’d been dragged up for various dances and reels with her cousins, the heat and fiddle music still humming in her bones. Now she stood near the door, letting the cool night air cut through the haze of ceilidh-warmed bodies.

A waltz had started up, slow and sweet, and Eachann, Auntie Peigi, and their cronies were gliding around the floor like they owned it. The fairy lights twinkled. The multi-coloured bunting swayed lazily in the cross-breeze from the open doors. Glasses clinked faintly. Somewhere near the bar, someone laughed low and fond. Even the chatter had dipped—the crowd taking a collective, contented breath. The accordion’s low swell wrapped around the room, notes curling warm as peat smoke. It was the sort of scene that would look perfect on a postcard, all soft edges and golden light. A lifetime of memories and love wrapped up in one dance. Jenn felt her breath hitch. She hoped that would be her one day.

A shift in the air made the fine hairs at the back of her neck stir—a faint warmth at her side, the subtle press of another presence.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” a low, steady, familiar voice said, breaking her out of her musings, making her stomach flip-flop.

Ruairidh.

“Oh, hey.” Jenn surreptitiously wiped her eyes to make sure she hadn’t been crying. Phew. “I didn’t see you there.”

She caught a faint trace of something—salt air and cedar, with the warm citrus of his aftershave beneath—clinging to him, like he’d brought the sea in with him. The kind of scent that made you want to lean closer without even thinking. It made her feel suddenly, ridiculously warm.

“You looked far away. I almost didn’t want to interrupt you,” Ruairidh said with a soft smile, leaning against the wall next to her. The casual way his shoulder brushed the doorframe made it feel, absurdly, like they were sharing a little corner of the night. He was back to laid-back casual mode tonight. She couldn’t decide which version she liked more—hot, delicious Captain Cool or this relaxed, disarming, maddeningly enigmatic one.

“Just… thinking. It’s a special event for Auntie Peigi and Eachann.” She nodded to them still waltzing away. Eyes only for each other.

“They met here?” Ruairidh asked. Jenn could have sworn his eyes softened at the couples on the floor.

“Yes, well, made it official here.” Jenn chuckled. She could feel her nerves bubbling up—what was it about him? “Eachann had been hankering after her for a while, but Auntie Peigi wanted to make sure he wasn’t getting a wooden spoon before saying yes!”

Ruairidh smiled warmly. God, her heart was racing.

“A patient man, then. I get that.” His voice was as even as ever, but something about the way he said it had Jenn’s pulse misbehaving. “Though sometimes it feels like patience just… leaves you watching from the sidelines.”

The air between them seemed to tighten—a barely-there pull, like the moment before a boat’s mooring line goes taut. What the hell did that mean? Probably just her overthinking.

Jenn gulped. Was the dance getting hotter? She’d moved to the door to cool down, not heat up.

“No Spaniard tonight?” he asked, glancing around the room.

“Umm, no. Just with the family tonight. And anyway, it’s not like that… we’re not a thing… it’s not…” Jenn could feel the ramble kicking in, complete with the tell-tale flappy-hands routine.

“Don’t worry. You don’t need to explain,” he interjected. His smile looked a little tighter than usual. “I’m not a Puffin… or Dallas.”

That seemed to break the tension a little and they both laughed at the mention of Hellisay’s biggest gossips.

“So, what brings you here?” Jenn asked, desperately trying to change the conversation. “I didn’t peg you for a fisherman.”

Ruairidh barked a laugh at that.

Jenn spotted several people watching them with not-so-subtle interest—the sharp tang of gossip practically fizzing in the air—including Auntie Peigi and Shona. Right now, Shona looked like a geriatric version of Màiri. Eyes gleaming. Ready for matchmaking and mischief.

D’oh. Of course he’d be here to see his grandparents. Honestly, put this man in front of her and her IQ dropped twenty points. She internally facepalmed, cheeks burning—Christ, she was fast becoming a contender for Best Dressed Crab.

“No.” He chuckled. “In a family of seafarers, I am a bit of a landlubber. I agreed to come and get my grandparents.” Ruairidh waved to them. They were now getting up from their table at the other side of the hall.

“Jenn!”

Jenn turned to see her cousin Martin motioning to her from the dance floor, her other cousin Andy beside him. “Get your arse up here. We’re doing a Dashing White Sergeant next!”

Ruairidh laughed heartily beside her. “Good luck with that pair.”