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She kicked at a branch on the road and then kicked it again. “I hate that I fell for him at your wedding. I don’t even know why I fell for him. He’s really annoying. So frustrating.”
Alec checked his smile. “That bad, hmm?”
Ella suddenly realized she was spilling her heart to Baird’s best friend. “You won’t tell him this, will you? It would only horrify him.”
“No, it wouldn’t. I suspect he feels the same.”
“No offense, Alec. You’re a wonderful brother-in-law, but in this case, I think you’re wrong. Baird thinks it’s just… chemistry… and it’s all he’s going to let it be. But that’s not enough for me. I either want his whole heart, or I want nothing.”
*
If Alec hadthought his conversation with Ella would help, he was wrong. Ella went to bed Christmas night nauseous, her stomach heavy and knotted. She felt heartsick. Just awful. While she didn’t exactly cry, her eyes burned dry and gritty. A painful lump filled her throat making it hard to swallow.
She regretted talking to Alec. She regretted talking to Cara. She regretted coming to England. She regretted falling for Baird.
She punched her pillow and then turned it over and punched it again.
What else could she regret?
Oh, that was easy.
Earning a PhD when she could have earned a masters. Staying in Bellingham for college instead of going away and learning to be more independent sooner.
And falling in love with the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.
Tears seeped from beneath her lashes, and she pressed her face into the pillow to cover the sound of her crying.Stop thinking, Ella. Sleep. Please.
Chapter Ten
Baird took hisAunt Kate out for Christmas dinner. Reservations were impossible at such a late date. But remembering his chef client with a high-profile restaurant in Portobello, Baird texted him and apologetically asked if there was any way to get two in for Christmas dinner. His client, ever grateful that Baird actually saved his marriage, said yes, if they could be there at two.
Aunt Kate was thrilled to be taken to such a lovely restaurant in the very elegant seaside neighborhood. Portobello, established in the 1700s, was once a town in its own right but was now officially a suburb of Edinburgh, three miles east of the city center. Portobello faced the Firth of Forth, marked by a lovely long sandy beach and beautiful old architecture. In the early 1800s, Portobello became a popular holiday destination with bathing machines, and then later at the turn of the century, a bath house, but now was one of Edinburgh’s posher neighborhoods.
As he and Aunt Kate walked along the promenade, the icy wind gusting, she periodically patted his arm, telling him how happy he had made her.
“When are you going to get married?” she asked as they turned around and began to retrace their steps to his car. “You are too lovely of a lad to remain single forever. You’re almost thirty-five. It’s time, isn’t it?”
“Marriage isn’t for everyone, Aunt Kate,” he said, smiling down at her. “If I was married, I might not have been free to spend Christmas with you. Perhaps keeping your only nephew single would be a benefit to you.”
She wagged a gloved finger at him. “That is not an acceptable excuse. I am sure any lass you married would be happy to drop in with you on Christmas, too.”
Baird suddenly pictured Ella and thought Ella wouldn’t mind. But then, Fiona wouldn’t have minded, either. Only he’d never been inclined to take Fiona home or create holiday traditions with her. He’d never really thought about it until now.
How had he and Fiona celebrated Christmas? Who had they spent the day with?
Did they go to her family, or did they usually just spend it together? Frowning he tried to remember and then he realized why there were so few memories. She often worked Christmas. She tended to volunteer to take Christmas shifts so those with children could be home.
Fiona was a good woman, a loving woman, and a very skillful, knowledgeable surgeon. He couldn’t find fault in her. He’d never felt as if their relationship was missing anything. And when she finally expressed she wanted more, he’d loved her enough to realize that if she wanted to marry and have children, then he needed to let her go. She deserved to be happy.
After driving his aunt back to her home, Baird walked her to the door and made sure she was safely inside, promising her he’d return and join her for lunch tomorrow, before driving back to his place.
Once in his own home, in his most comfortable lounging around pants, cozy sweater, and thick wool socks, Baird found it hard to unwind, thoughts of Fiona surprisingly intrusive.
He loved Fiona, he did.
But in all fairness, he’d never surprised her with a Christmas tree, or bought a frivolous gift simply to make her happy.
He’d never stayed awake at night replaying conversations in his head, angry and resentful. Her words had never hurt him. Her words had never moved him, either. They’d been calm and steady. Settled and focused. They’d been too busy for romance.
