She hadn’t ever admitted it aloud, and she was worried it would sound silly. Fidgeting with the corner of a napkin, she answered, “A book.”
Surprise flashed across his features. “What sort of book?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. I just needed to try something different.”
“So you’re not some fancy author I’ve embarrassed myself in front of by not recognising, then?”
“Not yet. Maybe one day.”
Distracted, she snapped a photograph of the view, hoping it would be enough to convince her followers that the holiday she’d hyped up for weeks was going swimmingly.She sent it to her mum immediately, to set her mind at ease before she truly began to panic.
Fraser was yet again watching her as though she was an alien, so she opened Instagram to check her direct messages. Hours without social media had made her feel disconnected from the world – and from her life back in Manchester. From Kenzie. She’d been posting more regularly than usual since the breakup, afraid somehow that she might be forgotten otherwise.
“What did you do before?” he asked as their drinks were set down in front of them.
Harper thanked Alice, then chose to answer the question as vaguely as she could to avoid the subject of her redundancy. “I’m in marketing.”
“Ah, interesting. In books, or something else?”
“For a company that sells household appliances and furniture. Nothing very exciting.” She swiftly changed the topic. “What about you? What do you have to rush out for soon?”
He sipped his tea, then licked his lips. “Oh, just a parent-teacher thing at school.”
Her eyes widened involuntarily. “You’re a dad?”
Oh, god. What if he had a partner at home, and she’d been all jittery and flustered around him? She’d walked past him wearing nothing but a towel! She sank lower in her chair.
“Oh, no.” He laughed as though the idea was funny. “It’s for my nephew. My sister doesn’t want to go alone, so I said I’d keep her company.”
Harper released a breath she hadn’t noticed she was holding.
And then she realised that this, somehow, was even worse. He wasn’t just attractive and kind. He was a good uncle, and a good brother. How was she supposed to not like him?
“That’s really nice,” she said.
“You seem surprised,” he commented wryly.
“I suppose I can’t work you out. You refuse to stop helping me, but have complained about it the whole time.”
“Yeah, well, you crushed my saplings and fell onto my land uninvited. I had a right to be a wee bit ticked off.”
She had no response to that, mostly because he was right. Instead, she snapped a photograph of her tea.
“Why are you doing that?” he asked, forehead lining with confusion.
“To post it on Instagram while I have data.”
“Does Instagram care that much about your drink?”
And just like that, not liking him became easy again. “There’s nothing wrong with having an online presence. We don’t all hide out in the woods with no Wi-Fi.”
“Well, that’s the issue. Nobody comes to take in the sights here anymore. The tourists don’t come and buy from local businesses or walk around the loch. They take their pictures to make their friends jealous then go and spend a fortune on lodges like the one you booked, built by out-of-towners who are sacrificing woodland habitats so they can jet off to Malaga every year without having to work for their customers.”
“You sound like my grandad,” she said flatly.
“Your grandad must be a smart man.”
The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of their food. Just to spite him, Harper took a picture of her burger, too, then dug in happily. She was finally enjoying her trip, and she wanted everyone to know it.
