Fraser checked his wristwatch, lips pressed tight. He needed to be at Eiley’s by seven, and it was currently five-thirty. If they were quick, he could take her to the café by the loch. If he showed her the way by foot, she’d be able to manage breakfast without him, too.
“Get your shoes on,” he decided finally, abandoning his tea on the table.
“I appreciate your help... even if your manners aren’t great.” Still, she sprang up eagerly and disappeared into the bedroom again.
If it got Fraser out of this mess sooner, he frankly didn’t care about manners.
5
“You didn’t tell me we’d be walking,” Harper grumbled, once again trying to avoid boggy patches along the woodland footpath. Next time she looked for a place to rent, it would be a seaside cottage instead. She was sick of the sight of trees.
“Didn’t I?” Fraser quipped, the corner of his mouth twitching as he slowed his pace to match hers. Clearly, he was enjoying this. “Maybe you shouldn’t have assumed I’d chauffeur you about.”
“You mean, like a gentleman would?”
“Those services cost extra.” He shrugged, hopping over a particularly large puddle without a problem. Harper halted before it. Her legs weren’t long enough to make it across without ruining her boots for good. Bernard passed seamlessly as though showing off, then barked encouragingly for her to follow.
She tested several paths forwards: either side of the puddle, but both were too muddy; around the footpath entirely, but the woods were uneven here, so she’d risk a sprained ankle.
“You’re making this look like really hard work,” Fraser commented, then held his hand out.
Harper stared at it for a moment. It was hard to believe he was still a stranger when she’d already worn his clothes, used his shower, and teetered over his fence, but easy when she saw the unfamiliar lines of his palm, the tattoos around his wrist creeping up into his sleeve.
She was overthinking it. But she’d watched him chop wood, got turned on, and now her stomach was all… aflutter. Like butterflies. Traitorous, confused butterflies.
“I don’t mean to rush you, but I have somewhere I need to be in an hour,” he prodded.
Of course. She’d disrupted his life. He was probably already exhausted by her. Probably nowhere near returning the attraction she felt for him, but certainly able to requite her annoyance. She slapped her hand into his, finding it warm and rough and steadfast as she leapt clumsily over the puddle.
“Thanks.” She pulled her hand away quickly, sticking it in the pocket of the raincoat she’d hoped she wouldn’t have to use. Her poor shacket was soaking in Fraser’s sink. To distract herself, she checked her phone again. One bar of signal had erected itself like a tiny tower in the corner of her screen. Only two more, and she might be able to call her mum.
“So, what brings you to the Highlands? No offence, but you don’t seem very outdoorsy,” he said as she slipped it back into her pocket. A hint of judgement shimmered in his voice, or maybe that was just her paranoia. Either way, she narrowed her eyes to slits, taking offence, even if it was true.
She was glad when a cobbled building poked through the trees in front of her. Behind it, a band of silver water yawned out, reflecting the drab, darkening October sky.If the Airbnb listing had been at all accurate, it must have been Loch Teàrlag. If only they’d signposted it better, she could have come here first, rather than to a stranger’s cabin.
She paused when she found that therewasa signpost: a wooden one, planted squarely in her eyeline, with an arrow pointing ahead for Loch Teàrlag and the Raindrop Café. Had there been more she’d missed?
It was possible. She’d spent quite a long time with her head down, waiting for her phone signal to magically appear.
“Have you ever considered that maybe you’retoooutdoorsy?” she retorted finally.
Again, that smirk quivered on the edge of his mouth. “Did it take you all that time to come up with that?” He whistled through his teeth. “Aren’t you witty?”
She batted his insult away with her hand, though inside, it stung. She wasn’t witty, or outdoorsy, or adventurous. She was…tired. Lost. She didn’t have the energy to match his taunt this time.
“Not answering the question, then?”
“I’m not here to be outdoorsy,” she declared finally. “I’m here to do something for myself for a change.”
“Oh, aye? Like what?” His mocking tone cleared like overhead clouds, giving way to beaming curiosity that only made her more uncomfortable. What was worse? The façade she was currently attempting, or the truth?
“To write,” she said quietly.
Fraser slipped his hands into his pockets. “You’re not one of those holiday house critics, are you?”
“Worried I’ll give you a one-star rating?”
He chuckled, his arm brushing against hers and sending a bolt of electricity through her body. It made her entire being feel foreign, not hers. Detached from her busy brain. “Worried for my friend and their B&B, actually. If you ever make it there.”
