Page 20 of A Summer of Secrets on Arran (Scottish Romances #5)

The next morning, Rosie clipped Coisty’s lead onto his collar and they left the cottage to make their way down the lane to the beach for their usual walk.

There was no sign of life at Beach Cottage.

She still couldn’t believe Luke Giles was staying next door.

Her fling from all those years ago. At the time, she thought she was head over heels in love with him when it was actually just lust. Although her younger self did think they had a genuine connection.

But it was easy to imagine these things, she told herself, when you were young and having a brief fling with a pop star who probably had a girl, or several, in every town.

Rosie had managed to move on very quickly afterwards with an Australian hunk called Brad.

There were a few more flings after Brad and then she met Dermot, who she had thought was the one.

She hadn’t thought about Luke for years.

Rosie wasn’t on social media and didn’t read magazines, unless she was at the hairdressers and even then, she preferred the gardening magazines.

But when she saw him again she recognised him because he still looked gorgeous.

It was Isobel who had told her last night that he had turned his hand to acting and had been in a successful police procedural series on Sky TV.

Coisty trotted alongside her at quite a pace and Rosie took in deep breaths of salty air.

She didn’t think she would ever tire of that fresh smell which invigorated her every morning.

They didn’t pass a soul and when they reached the sandy shore, she let Coisty run free.

His tail was in full helicopter wagging mode, a sign that he was particularly excited by life and he ran along stopping to push his nose into the ground and smell new scents.

As she wandered along behind him, her mind drifted between thoughts of last night’s drama and her plans for that morning.

Isobel and Bella were still fast asleep when she left and she wondered if she should give them some space to talk things through.

She could definitely find tasks to keep her busy.

She wanted to finish the weeding at the bottom of the garden and then mow the lawn.

There was just a small patch of grass outside and she had cut it back last week.

But the good weather and the rainfall during the past few nights meant it had quickly sprouted again.

She loved the look of a manicured lawn and her dad had been very particular about making sure it was neat and tidy.

Then she laughed as she realised, she was talking to herself again.

Normally she was surrounded by people at work — in the classroom and staff room — and would see Dermot at home and then friends at the weekend.

It had felt a bit weird to only have Coisty to talk to lately and podcasts or the radio to listen to.

Then she found her thoughts wandering again, this time to her mum’s old recipe book.

She had been flicking through it and planned to make her traditional flapjacks at some point while Isobel was here.

She missed having someone to cook for, so it would be nice to take care of Isobel for a change.

Looking at the ground at her feet, she saw a glint of blue glass in the sand.

Bending down, she picked it up, smoothing the grains of sand away with her thumb.

She had enjoyed collecting bits of sea-glass since moving here and had amassed a clean poo bag full of it.

She unzipped her crossover bag, pulled out the small plastic bag and dropped the blue glass in with the other bits of what were mainly white and green shards.

Then she whistled for Coisty. But when she looked up, she realised he was nowhere to be seen.

He did quite often follow his nose and she wondered if he had got the scent of a rabbit or a dead bird and was now happily rolling all over it.

As she scanned the beach ahead, she still couldn’t see him.

Where was he? Her relaxed smile vanished as she started to panic.

‘Coisty,’ she called. ‘Coisty. Come and get a treat.’ But the beach was deserted and no matter how many times she called his name and offered him a piece of cheese or sausage, the little dog was nowhere to be seen.

She started to up her pace and lightly jogged over to the pile of rocks at the far end of the beach.

As she neared them, she sighed in relief when she saw him lying on his back with his feet in the air.

A man was crouched down over him, tickling his stomach.

‘Coisty, there you are.’ Coisty wagged his tail and looked beyond her as though he had no idea who she was.

‘Hey there, good morning.’

Rosie sighed. Of course, the man had to be Luke.

As cute as Coisty was, she had to remember that not everyone liked dogs.

‘Oh, hi there,’ she said as casually as she could manage.

‘I’m sorry. I hope he wasn’t bothering you.

As you can tell his recall is not very good. Naughty boy.’ She shook her head.

‘Is that me or the dog?’ joked Luke.

Rosie’s cheeks flushed and she felt herself fumble with Coisty’s lead.

He jumped up and shook himself then promptly sat down again next to Luke.

He was outrageous. Rosie was aware that Luke was gazing at her and she wondered if she had a piece of twig or something in her hair.

She looked at him questioningly as she tried to subtly rake her hand through her hair in the hope of freeing any vegetation. ‘Lovely morning, isn’t it?’

‘It’s beautiful,’ he said, smiling at her and his dark eyes crinkled in the corners.

Luke was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt which clung to his muscles.

She felt something inside her shift and her legs actually started to feel a bit wobbly.

She glanced again at his well-defined arms. He looked very strong and capable .

Up close she couldn’t help admiring his features.

He had a few lines on his forehead and he looked very natural, so wasn’t a filler kind of man, which was a relief.

In fact, he had grown into a really good-looking man which was unusual for popstars who had been teenage pin-ups.

Usually, they showed clear signs of their misspent youth, or had so much work done, they no longer looked real.

‘This is a great spot,’ he said, interrupting her train of thought.

‘Yes, it is,’ she said, realising she was still gazing at him. She bent down to stroke Coisty’s head just as Luke bent down to pat him and their hands touched. Rosie almost gasped at the sensation.

‘Coisty’s an interesting name,’ he said, his voice gruff.

‘Um, yes, bit of a story there. I named him after Ally McCoist. The footballer,’ she said as way of explanation.

Luke burst out laughing. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

‘Nope, I’m really not. Okay, well anyway, enjoy your walk,’ she said quickly, standing up and feeling her cheeks colour again.

What was wrong with her and why did he keep looking at her that way?

Her dog’s name wasn’t that weird, was it?

Or did she have snot hanging from her nostrils or something?

She brushed her nose with the back of her hand, suddenly feeling very awkward and a bit shaky. ‘Bye for now. Come on, Coisty.’

‘See you later,’ he said. His smile seemed to push his cheeks up to his eyes and light up his whole face.

Rosie managed a sort of grin back, which felt more like a gurn and, turning away, she tugged at the lead so Coisty would follow.

Why had she turned into a mushy mess? Clearly the first interaction she had with a man who wasn’t her husband had thrown her into a spin.

Yet he wasn’t just any old bloke, a voice in her head reminded her.

He was a man she hadn’t thought about for over twenty years and his sudden reappearance had stirred up memories.

With every memory the nerves in her body tingled, as though on fire.

She walked away and made herself focus on the horizon ahead for as long as she could.

Then she briefly looked back over her shoulder. But Luke had disappeared.