“Well, that’s because she wasn’t supposed to be back for another week,” he replied pointedly.
“It’s okay. Fraser doesn’t tell me things either, like how he has a gorgeous woman living in his cabin. Aren’t you shivering away in that thing?”
Harper was the colour of a beetroot now, and Fraser wasn’t far behind. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I bought her a heater.”
“I bet you did.” Cam bit her lower lip suggestively.
Now, it was Fraser’s turn to flick her, right in the middle of the forehead. “You’re like a kid!”
“That’s because you’re like a grandad. Show the lass a good time, for goodness’ sake.”
“I can have a good time all on my own,” Harper said, lifting her chin.
“Oh, so I’ve seen.” Fraser grinned crookedly, and he saw the realisation dawn on her. Yes, he was thinking of her toy again.
Clearly, so was she, because she jabbed a finger in his face. “Do not!”
Cam gasped. “What? What? I want to know!”
“Nope. No, you don’t. If you’ll excuse me, I have a list to write.” Harper sauntered back to the table, notebook and fluffy pen in hand. She gestured two fingers to Fraser in an “I’m watching you” motion.
He could feel Cam’s eyes scorching the back of his neck, and he whipped around quickly. “I’ll have a tea. And one of those special paninis you make just for me. I miss those.”
“I made you one last week when you came round.”
“Alice’s panini maker is better.” With that, he slid his cash across the counter – more than she would have charged him – and then walked over to the table with Bernard. Harper didn’t look up from jotting her notes as he sat down.
“The Fairy Trail is beautiful,” he said, raking a hand through his sopping hair. “Hard to find, though. I could take you there at the weekend. If you like.”
He didn’t know why he was asking. Or, rather, he did and wished he didn’t.
He wanted to make her trip a good one, since she clearly needed it, but he’d already decided to give her nothing more than that. Even if he kept wondering what it would feel like to put his hands on her thighs, her hips, her cheeks. Even if he knew the colour of her sleep shorts and just how high they could ride in the night.
Harper stopped writing, slowly lifting her head. “Can I admit something?”
“Aye?”
She pressed her palms into her eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I planned to start writing this morning. Then I realised I don’t even have a main character. And I don’t even know what the story would be about. I just came here expecting everything to fall into place, because absolutely nothing was in place at home. But it isn’t working out like that.”
Fraser was taken aback by the confession. For the first time, he saw the uncertainty behind it all. How lost she was, not just because she’d stumbled through the woods, but because she was trying to figure something out, like most people were.
He couldn’t help but lean forwards so that she knew he was listening. “You must have wanted to write something before this.”
She glanced down at her fidgeting hands. “Yeah, but it used to be easier. Now I know I want to create a story that matters, that couldbesomething, there’s all this pressure.”
“Okay…” Fraser pursed his lips as he spoke softly. “So, what if you put the phone and the laptop down for a minute? It sounds to me like you’re used to working too hard. What if you stopped?”
Her forehead creased. “Then I wouldn’t get anywhere.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I’d go home the same as I left.”
“Would you?”
She hesitated, tracing the edges of her notebook. “I need something to show for all this.”
Like Instagram pictures?he wondered. He didn’t get it. Couldn’t pretend to. He felt like perhaps he was verging too close to an edge, and wanted to retreat before he said something that might upset her. Something that might make him sound like he thought she was shallow. He was certain there was more to her obsession with social media than that, but he couldn’t know what.
