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Rory was just an intense kind of guy, Carrie rationalised. She had thought that about him since she’d first seen him in the village shop. On that day, she’d thought he was rude. Since working with him, she’d learnt he was passionate about the restaurant and about food, but that he was also kind and funny. The villagers thought he was standoffish, but Carrie knew better. She thought so, anyway. And the fact that he was dealing with his demons was commendable.
She decided to change the subject. ‘Why don’t you tell me about this house? It’s really beautiful, you know. This kitchen alone must have cost you an arm and a leg.’ She looked around again at the modern space with its marble worktops and collection of top-of-the-range food mixers, bread makers, the coffee machine and various other gadgets.
She could tell from the look in his eyes that he knew what she was trying to do, but he acquiesced gracefully.
‘Thank you. It’s been a labour of love. I bought it when I moved to Loch Cameron six years ago and took my time renovating it. It was a seventies nightmare when I moved in. Avocado bathroom, orange flock wallpaper, brown carpets. The lot.’
‘Wow,’ Carrie chuckled. ‘Lucky you had these lovely natural floorboards underneath. And the fireplace in the front room is gorgeous.’
‘Yeah. Come on, I’ll give you the tour.’ He put down his coffee mug and stood up. ‘Then I should get back to sorting things out. There’s not much to pack, but I have to do things like leave a spare key with a neighbour, empty the fridge, that kind of thing.’
‘Well, if you’ve got anything I can take, let me know. I’ve got hardly any food in,’ Carrie joked.
But he nodded seriously. ‘Oh, absolutely. You’d be doing me a favour. I’ll put a bag together for you.’
‘I wasn’t serious,’ Carrie laughed. ‘Give it to… I don’t know. Someone who needs it.’
‘You just said you don’t have any food in. Ergo, you need it.’ He flashed Carrie a grin which gave her a glowy feeling. ‘Happy to help a damsel in distress. I’m a navy man, remember.’
‘RealOfficer and a Gentlemanstuff, huh.’ Carrie was trying hard not to imagine Rory in a navy dress uniform with the shiny buttons and smart epaulettes, and failing miserably.
‘Sure.’ He gave her an unreadable look under his long eyelashes and she felt her stomach turn to jelly again. ‘Come on, then, let’s go upstairs.’ He walked to the hallway and bowed theatrically. ‘I’d carry you up,Officer and a Gentlemanstyle, but you might get the wrong idea.’
‘What? Oh, right.’ Carrie had temporarily forgotten that Rory had offered to give her a tour of the house. For a brief moment, she’d been distracted by his suggestion they go upstairs. She blushed, and was instantly mortified for doing so.
Dear lord,Claire’s voice surfaced in her mind.Stop blushing all the time and kiss the guy. He obviously wants you to.
No, he doesn’t, Carrie argued with Claire.Stop making comments about my love life – or, my lack of one. If you’re going to be here, then let’s have a proper conversation. About what happened. Do you want that?
Claire’s voice went silent. Carrie sighed to herself. Was she going mad? She hoped she wasn’t, but it was entirely possible.
TWENTY-FOUR
Carrie followed Rory into the hall and up the wide wooden staircase, which featured a carved wooden banister varnished in a dark nut brown. The woodwork gleamed against the dark blue walls. At the top of the stairs, a long, wide hallway reached out in front of Carrie. Along the walls, there were a number of framed prints of landscapes: a desert, a beach, some jungle. When Carrie looked closer, she realised that they were in fact photographs, and each one had Rory in them, grinning into the camera. In some, he wore his navy uniform. In others, he wore shorts or casual clothes.
‘These are you!’ Carrie exclaimed, looking more closely at the photo of Rory in the jungle. In that one he was wearing some khaki shorts with pockets and no shirt; Carrie tried not to stare at the image of his toned, muscular chest.
‘Yeah. My adventures.’ He grinned, standing behind her and looking at the photo.
‘While you were in the navy?’ She was very aware of him standing so close to her; she could sense his body’s heat.
‘Yeah. That’s Brazil, the Gulf, Jamaica.’ He pointed them out one by one. ‘The job took me to some amazing places, all right.’
‘Are they sending you back somewhere like that?’ Carrie half turned to him and looked up into his dark eyes. The urge to lean into him overtook her, and she fought against it. There was just something so warm and familiar about him, even though he wasn’t familiar at all. Not in that way.Maybe I just need the touch of a man after all this time, she thought.A non-specific man. And Rory is the closest one right now.
She was aware that it wasn’t exactly anicethought, or at least, not a usual one for her. She’d always supposed women weren’t meant toneeda man in that kind of way. But she realised she needed something right now. Comfort, perhaps. Or simply basic human touch. Being held. Beingalive. She had come so close to death herself, after all. It could have been her who had died in the crash.
‘No. Sadly not.’ Rory’s voice broke over her thoughts. ‘It’ll be a lot colder where I’m going.’ He folded his arms over his chest. ‘But I can assure you it’s nowhere that exciting.’ He blew out his cheeks.
Carrie’s eyes caressed the bulge of his biceps. She looked back at the photos to avoid them. She was surprised her sister’s voice didn’t have something to say about this.
‘So, as far as the tour goes: bathroom, office, guest room, another guest room, master bedroom.’ Rory pointed to the different doorways leading off the hall.
‘Can I see?’ she asked.
He nodded, leading her to the first room, which was one of the guest bedrooms. Inside, it was very neat, and the blue paint Rory seemed to favour on the walls had been substituted for clean white. The bed in this room had an expensive-looking upholstered baby-pink velvet bedstead, and it was made up with a crisp white cotton pintucked bed set. In the corner of the room there was an antique white chair with a painted spindle back and a rattan seat.
‘I wouldn’t have put you down as a pink bed guy,’ Carrie chuckled. ‘It’s pretty, though.’
