Page 14 of A Summer House on Arran (Scottish Romances #3)

Logan lay on his back and gazed around James’s spare room.

It was the perfect pit stop for him when he was on Arran.

He still couldn’t believe how lucky it was that James had moved back here for work.

Kipping in his mate’s spare room — even though it was very functional, with just a double bed and nowhere to put his clothes — was far nicer than staying in a bed in the youth hostel or a hotel room, which was his usual choice of accommodation when he was doing these trips.

Mind you, Logan was extremely self-sufficient and didn’t need anything more than a bed.

He was used to minimalist living; he carried all that he needed in his rucksack.

It had been a while since he and James had seen each other, and he was really looking forward to catching up with him later.

They’d arranged to meet for a beer at the pub just after five o’clock.

Logan wanted to hear all about his new job and how things were going with his girlfriend.

Ever since he had known James, he’d always been full of ambition and didn’t seem that interested in relationships.

They were very alike there, although Logan would be the first to admit that he didn’t have the same driving ambition that James had.

Yes, he loved his work, but it didn’t feel like work.

He was happy with his lot and the fact he could spend most of his days outdoors.

The thought of having to stick to long hours in an office filled him with fear.

James seemed like a different man since reconnecting with Amy, which had amused Logan greatly.

On the odd occasion they did catch up on the phone, if he wasn’t working at the distillery, James was either on his way to see her at Meadowbank Cottage or was in the middle of making dinner for her at his flat.

Logan had seen him briefly when he’d arrived and gone to pick up keys to get into the flat.

He’d smirked when James sheepishly told him that he was staying with Amy to get out of the way, to give Logan a bit of headspace after the intensity of the last tour.

Logan knew that was code for, I’m deeply loved up and don’t want to leave Amy’s side, and the thought of being apart from her for too long is driving me mad.

But there was no way that James would ever admit that out loud.

Logan knew Amy had recently built a studio at her sister’s guesthouse, so James was clearly making sure she was quite settled in to her new abode.

Logan was actually rather intrigued to meet the woman who had tamed his friend.

Earlier, when Logan had mentioned this, James had scoffed and tried to laugh off his comments.

But the red dots high on his cheeks were a clear giveaway that James was quite smitten.

When Logan had teased him and said, ‘You’re clearly very loved up, mate,’ James quickly changed the subject and offered to meet Logan at the pub for a few beers when he’d finished work.

He promised to get away early, and Logan had rolled his eyes in response, knowing full well that was unlikely.

Logan yawned and stretched his arms up behind his head.

He glanced at his watch and sighed. Where had the time gone today?

He’d better make a move, otherwise he’d end up falling asleep.

Maybe he should go for a walk before meeting James.

He could do with a boost of fresh air. Jumping off the bed, he raked his hands through his hair and pulled on his trainers.

Then he gave himself a quick once-over in the hallway mirror and pulled the door closed behind him, jogging lightly down the stairs and into the close, which would take him out to the street.

As he stepped outside, he looked over at the surface of the sea. It resembled glass. It was a warm afternoon and very still, not even a whisper of a breeze. The sky was a rich blue. Logan took his time walking slowly along the road, admiring the scenery.

This was his first tour to Arran this year and it felt good to be back.

He always felt at home as soon as he stepped off the ferry.

There was something about crossing the water by boat that made this trip feel extra special.

As he followed the path that cut across the golf course, he began to think about the next few days and what lay ahead for the next trip.

Logan never really switched off from work, he couldn’t help himself.

He was extremely organised and efficient and liked to make sure he had all eventualities covered.

Tomorrow he would go through his usual checklist of having a look at the forecast for the next few days, checking that he had all the right kit and that everything was clean and nothing was missing.

Then he would have a quick recce of the trails to make sure there hadn’t been any major changes that might disrupt the routes.

At the moment it looked set to be fine, but this was Scotland, and the weather could change rapidly.

Logan was due to meet the group on Thursday for the five-day tour, and he was looking forward to exploring with them.

This trip was a bit different to the one on Skye, more informal, which wasn’t a bad thing.

Guests tended to already be planning a stay on Arran anyway, so it was a case of them meeting Logan each day for a different walk.

Although they were encouraged to sign up to all five days of the tour, they could dip in and out of them as they pleased.

Fortunately his evenings would be free, which he felt mildly relieved about — he was still recovering from the intensity of Tallulah’s attentions.

Checking his watch, he realised that it was just before five.

As he neared the bar he idly wondered if James would be there already.

But as he walked up the steps and through the entrance, a quick look around told him that he wasn’t.

He gave a wry smile. That was so James. He would most likely still be at work.

The bar hadn’t changed a bit since his last visit.

The exposed brickwork and the pale, wooden floors offered a nice contrast. The wood-burning stove at the back of the bar was lovely in the winter, when you felt as though you were cosying in from the elements outside.

He ordered a couple of pints of IPA and took them outside, finding a quiet spot in the beer garden.

Sitting down, he wondered whether he should wait for James to arrive before he started his beer.

Watching the condensation run down the glasses, he looked around one last time and decided not.

It would be like watching an ice-cream melt.

Sipping the cold liquid, he closed his eyes and smiled.

Bliss. It was just what he needed, and hit the spot perfectly.

The pub was quiet, although he had to remind himself that it was a Monday night and not the weekend.

Often his days and weeks merged together, and it was quite usual for Logan to lose track of what day of the week it was.

That was the drawback of working different hours each week and being in so many different places.

He would lose a sense of time and place, which didn’t land well with the various women he had dated over the years.

They took it all very personally, wouldn’t accept his apologies, instead assuming the worst — that he was dating lots of other women on his travels.

Logan sat quietly, observing life go on around him.

It was always interesting to see how many people actually chatted to each other and how many sat looking at their phones.

That also included the ones who were with company as well as those sitting on their own.

A woman sat a few tables across from him, tapping her foot agitatedly and rattling her fingers against her phone, which was placed on the table.

Frowning, he wondered what her issue was.

Then he flicked his gaze across to the couple who sat together but were clearly miles apart, both fixated on their phones.

Logan knew he was old-fashioned, and to be honest he didn’t really care, but he really loathed mobile phones.

This, of course, didn’t bode too well for his Instagram account, which had been neglected of late.

That was another thing he would need to spend some time on tomorrow.

Over the years, Logan had watched guests come and go and noticed how mobiles had killed the art of conversation dead.

Of course there were exceptions to the rule, but he’d noticed how people could no longer be present and just sit in their surroundings.

They needed their phone as an emotional crutch.

On every tour, someone would always have their phone out to take photos or film some video footage, and he just couldn’t get his head around the idea of having to live life through a lens.

Why couldn’t they just enjoy the view right then as it was and really see it properly?

Or make the most of each moment as it unfolded?

He had to remind himself to take photos and then would put his phone away.

Much to the frustration of his friends, and sisters in particular, he didn’t make a point of checking his phone regularly.

For Logan it was purely a functional item.

He hated seeing people staring down at their phones, scrolling aimlessly for hours.