Page 8 of A Summer House on Arran (Scottish Romances #3)
After bidding farewell to the group, Logan spent his final night on Skye with just a couple of single malt whiskies for company.
He always made sure he stayed in separate accommodation from his guests.
Logan liked boundaries and didn’t like mixing business with pleasure.
It had been a valuable principle to have in place, as Tallulah so aptly demonstrated.
With people on holiday, drink flowing, it was best to avoid those occasions when a guest fancied landing themselves a ‘kilted hunk’ during their visit to Scotland.
He was always a bit bemused when asked if he ever did the walking tours wearing kilts, but Logan grimaced at the thought.
Aside from the thought of midge bites on his man parts, Logan really only wore kilts to weddings, Highland Games and the odd international rugby game, and certainly didn’t think of himself as a hunk.
Not at all. He found the attention all quite mortifying.
He poured a splash of cold water into his glass and took a sip of the peaty liquid, enjoying the feeling of warmth trickling down the back of his throat.
He was very much looking forward to having a couple of days off before the next trip began.
Much as he loved his job, which felt like a way of life rather than work, he needed some time to decompress and recharge his social battery.
He enjoyed meeting new people and hearing about their lives and all the stories they had to share, but was glad to have a day or two after a trip when he didn’t have to say too much to anyone — that included his sisters, who told him repeatedly that he worked too much and should take more time out to socialise.
What they really meant was that they thought it was time he should settle down.
His twin sisters, Lucie and Bridget, were older by eight years and they had mothered him from the moment he was born.
Their mum had passed away when he was just ten years old, so they had continued with their roles as surrogate mothers, which seemed to give them a free card to boss him about and express their (strong) opinions on how he should or should not be living his life.
Both lived in Perth (Scotland, not Australia), and they communicated with him constantly on WhatsApp.
They were always telling him off for the length of time he took to reply, and complained that his answers were too short and told them nothing about his life.
Their father hadn’t coped well after he lost his beloved wife.
Although he did his best at raising the kids, he had turned to drink to help him cope, which led to him sinking into a deep depression from which he’d never been able to recover.
He eventually died of liver disease when Logan was twenty-two, which was part of the reason he had joined the Navy.
Apart from his sisters, he had no ties to keep him in Scotland.
He wanted to explore and leave the sadness of home life behind.
So he embraced the adventure in a way he hoped his late parents would be proud of.
He travelled the world and tried to make the most of every minute of it.
Wanderlust seemed to suit him and his personality, and although he had many girlfriends along the way there hadn’t really been anyone he had fallen head over heels in love with.
Not any special person that would have made him swap his freedom and love of exploring for a life of domesticity.
No thanks. He was happy with his lot. He had his health, his freedom and his friends, and he was grateful for all of it.
Logan knew his sisters disapproved of his nomadic lifestyle, but he kept reassuring them that he was happy and he didn’t want a life in the suburbs with two-point-four children, thank you very much.
‘But it’s such a waste,’ wailed Lucie one day. ‘You could have your pick of women and you would be a great dad.’
Logan had shuddered. Fortunately Bridget wasn’t quite as dominant as her sister, who was older by twenty minutes and liked to make sure they all knew about it.
Bridget was always a lot more measured with her opinions.
‘The main thing is that you’re happy, Logan.
You’re healthy and kind and successful and enjoying life.
That’s all we want for you. Isn’t that right, Lucie? ’
He couldn’t not notice the scornful look Lucie had thrown her.
Raising his glass to inspect the amber liquid, he took another sip of his dram and smiled wryly as he thought about his sisters.
He was lucky they cared so much, and he knew a visit back to see them was overdue.
The problem was that summer was peak season and his schedule was fairly rammed.
Frowning, he flicked through his phone calendar, trying to work out where he might have a window.
He was pleased his boss had scheduled him quite a few trips on Arran over the summer.
He made a mental note to get in touch with him tomorrow to check on the names of the guests for the next trip.
Picking up his phone, he quickly tapped out a message to the friend he would be staying with on Arran.
Hey, James! Looking forward to seeing you very soon. I’ll be arriving in Brodick at some point on Monday and will give you a shout then.
That was another perk of the job. He’d get a chance to properly catch up with James and see the new distillery, which he’d been running for the past year.
Logan was also curious to meet the mysterious woman, Amy, who seemed to have tamed James’s heart.
Like Logan, James was a bit of an eternal bachelor and liked to suit himself.
He gave a tiny shrug. She must be something special — James was smitten, and that was something Logan certainly did not envy. He couldn’t think of anything worse.