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And I believed him, too.
My heart aches again, so I push the memories aside, letting the landscape blur outside the windows as my eyes drift shut, and I slip into a cozy slumber…
The next thing I know, Fraser’s hand is on my arm, and he’s gently shaking me awake. “JJ… Jolene, we’re here.”
“Where?” I blurt, startling awake. Fraser is leaning over me through the open passenger door, and I suddenly find myself staring into his blue eyes, close enough to see the flecks of grey and green that always seemed to change with the weather and his mood.
Now, they’re stormy like the distant Scottish Highlands. His beard is looking scruffy now, transformed from the annoyingly neat trim to something more rugged, and with his hair askew, curling from the damp, he looks toe-curlingly, heart-stoppingly delicious.
My Fraser.
I gaze up at him, lost in his eyes, wanting him so badly it hurts.
He lurches back, like he’s been shocked. “C’mon, before it starts tipping it down again,” he barks, then disappears around to grab our bags from the trunk before I can say a word.
Careful now, I scold myself, as I grab my things and clamber out of the car. One night with Fraser has already yanked open all my old wounds. One more would just rub salt in them.
“This way,” Fraser calls, then takes off up an overgrown garden path like he’s in a hurry.
I look around. We’re in the countryside, parked out front of a big, charming old house with dormer windows and ivy creeping up the walls. It looks gorgeous, like something out of a fairytale, but Fraser is heading straight past it, to a gate in the garden wall, leading away from the house.
“Where are we going?” I ask again, hurrying to keep up.
“I’ll explain later,” Fraser says, sidestepping an abandoned kids’ bike, and circling a murky pond with toy sailboats capsized on the shore. “We just need to get inside before—”
“Oi!” A cry rings out. Fraser stops in his tracks, wincing.
“… Before that happens,” he finishes, slowly turning.
There’s a blur of denim and pink hair as someone races from the house and hurls herself at Fraser. “What are you doing back? And why are you sneaking off, trying to avoid us?” the blur demands, before turning and yelling back at the house. “It’s him! I told you!”
There’s suddenly a cacophony of voices, as people spill out of the main house, and three enthusiastic terriers bound over, barking wildly and leaping up to sniff lick my face. I stumble back, suddenly overwhelmed.
“Down!” Fraser yells at the dogs. “Burns! Scott! Down!”
“Don’t yell at them! They missed you, that’s all.” The pink-haired blur scolds him, as half-a-dozen other people crowd around, peppering him with questions.
“Have you been on the road, in this weather?”
“Who’s the bird?”
“You were driving that thing?”
“Excuse me?” I interrupt the chaos, fending off the amorous dogs as I fix Fraser with a questioning stare. “Do you want to maybe tell me what’s going on?”
Fraser gives a long, weary sigh. “Aye. This is where I grew up. And this… is my family.”
15
JJ
Fraser’s family…
I look around with new eyes as the motley mob of people sweeps us back up the path and into the main house. “We were just going to crash next door—” Fraser grumbles, but someone is already grabbing my bags and steering me down a hallway with brightly patterned wallpaper.
I blink. If Mara Dunleavey’s flat was an exercise in modern minimalism, this house is the complete opposite, filled with hanging raincoats, kids’ artwork, and clutter.
“Really,” Fraser protests again, as we reach the big, yellow-tiled kitchen. “It’s been a long day, and it’ll be easier if we just got settled and left you to it—”
