“Hilarious.”
“They’re with Mum, you tube. Probably having the time of their life.”
That put him at ease. It was lucky Mum loved being a granny. With five grandchildren, she never got a moment’s peace, but even when her arthritis was affecting her mobility, she claimed she far preferred it that way to living alone.
He looked back at the tables, just to check Harper hadn’t suddenly materialised. “I assume you met my new tenant.”
“Eh?” Cam’s blue eyes, identical to his own save for her smoky black liner, widened. “What d’you mean, your new tenant? You mean the hot blonde author girl?”
He slumped against the counter, pretending to be interested in a custard tart. “Some might describe her as that, aye. She’s staying in the cabin. Couldn’t find her anywhere else when her Airbnb reservation fell through.”
“What?” She gawped at him, a slow smile creeping across her forever mischievous face. “Oh, this is good. I like this. A gorgeous woman living in your cabin… The possibilities are endless.”
“Oi!” He snapped his fingers, desperate to put an end tothattrain of thought. He didn’t need his sister putting ideas in his head – or Harper’s. Mostly because the ideas were already there for him, and he was trying desperately to get themout. He’d got here late because he hadn’t been able to. Because instead of doing his job, he’d been daydreaming about her. About her laugh and her curves and that bloody vibrator in her suitcase. “Stop. It’s not like that.”
“But why shouldn’t it be? You need some fun.”
“I don’t have time for ‘fun’, or any of the other nonsense that comes with it.”
Cam scoffed, crossing her arms over her apron. “Sometimes I wonder how you got to be so boring. I bet Grandad has more sex than you.”
“Jesus, Cam. Don’t say ‘Grandad’ and ‘sex’ in the same sentence.” He clenched his jaw, resenting her words. Why did people have to fuck around and date and get married and have kids to be considered “fun” or “normal” these days? He wasn’t boring. He kept himself plenty entertained. Besides, he’d seen how messy relationships could get, first with his parents and then with Eiley. He was quite happy to remain alone with Bernard and save himself the hassle.“Do you know where she is or not?”
“Why? So you can stand five feet away from her in fear of catching feelings?”
Before he could think of a rebuttal, the door jangled open and Harper spilled through, dripping from the rain. She battled with her umbrella, which was twisted inside out and, by the looks of the protruding metal, broken beyond repair. “Blooming ’eck, it’s wild out there.” She closed the door, then noticed Fraser and stopped. “Oh, hello. Finally remembered your guest, did you?”
“It’s been a busy morning,” he lied. “Where’ve you been?” He didn’t like to think of her outside alone in this weather after how lost she’d been upon arrival, and the image in front of him didn’t make sense. They’d established she wasn’t outdoorsy, so why had she been out in this torrent?
Happily, Harper sashayed in and petted Bernard, who licked the rainwater off her boots. “I’ve been making plans.”
“Oh, aye?” He cocked his head. “What sort of plans?”
“Inspirational plans,” Cam answered for her.
“That’s right. I need to live a little if I’m going to write a decent book. Explore my surroundings. So I’m starting with a boat trip across the loch tomorrow.”
Oh, this was definitely the work of Cam. She’d been hired by Alice three years ago mainly because she was the village’s unofficial tourist information point. She’d worked briefly at the B&B before Andy had taken over from their parents, then the tavern. If anything interesting was happening in Belbarrow, Cam knew about it, just as she knew which tourists would enjoy a sunrise hike through the woods and which would prefer a day trip to Oban.It was how she’d met Sorcha, in fact: offering an impromptu tour of the place had been Cam’s way of flirting.
“Now, I need more ideas. Hang on.” Harper riffled through her handbag, retrieving an elegant leather-bound notebook and a pink, fluffy pen. At the counter, she left it open between them, so Fraser could see what she’d written in an impressively neat cursive: “Harper’s Guide to Inspiration”under a lengthy step-by-step plan of how to become a bestselling novelist.
She wrote down the number1and circled it. “Book a boat trip,” she announced. “Check. What else would you recommend?”
Harper’s eyes sparkled as she looked at Cam. Fraser didn’t like it. Admittedly, his sister was charismatic… but was she deserving ofallof Harper’s attention?
“There’s the Fairy Trail,” Fraser butted in, and felt foolish for it. What was he doing?
“Perhaps you should take her there, Fraser.” Cam winked, causing his palms to sweat.
Harper glanced between them. “Are you two friends?”
“Worse,” Fraser said. “Siblings.”
“Oh!” She hopped back as though she’d seen a ghost, scrutinising each of them in turn. “So it runs in the family...”
“What does?” Cam asked, amused.
“Nothing,” Harper murmured, but she blinked rapidly all the same, which only made Fraser want to know more. “You didn’t tell me your sister worked here, Fraser!”
