Page 12 of Summer Escapes on the Scottish Isle (Coorie Castle Crafts #2)

Freya lapsed into silence for the rest of the drive, the journey bringing back so many memories.

Her dad used to be a fisherman, landing prawns, crab and lobster for local pubs and restaurants, and he used to come home smelling of sea spray and fish, his face weather-beaten, his hands calloused.

To tiny-Freya he’d seemed like a giant, invincible and never-changing.

However, adult-Freya recalled the worry on her mother’s face if he had been out on the loch when the weather turned.

When she’d been about ten or eleven, he used to take her out with him now and again, but although she’d enjoyed being with him and she’d been fascinated by the creatures he brought up from the deep, she’d hated the thought of the poor things being eaten.

Which was daft, considering she used to happily eat chicken nuggets and ham sandwiches.

She still liked chicken and ham, but her palate was rather more sophisticated these days, and nuggets definitely weren’t on the menu.

Muirporth Quay hadn’t changed much, Freya saw, when Cal turned off the coast road. The boats moored up alongside it looked roughly the same; the buildings were as she remembered them, just different signage, that was all.

As the car came to a halt, she noticed a sign saying Sea Serpent Boat Tours , and then she spotted the man who operated them, as her gaze was drawn to a vessel where loads of activity was taking place.

She drew in a sharp breath.

Mack was shirtless, wearing just shorts and a pair of calf-length rubber boots. With his hair tied back and his muscles gleaming with water or sweat – Freya didn’t mind which – he looked hot.

When Cal guided her across the quay and she drew closer and could see him better, Mack’s physique appeared even more impressive. He had a six-pack, for God’s sake!

Freya hoped she wasn’t drooling, and she hastily averted her eyes in case he saw the spark of desire she suspected might be lurking in them. She was aware of his curious gaze resting on her as he greeted Cal.

‘We don’t see you up this way very often,’ Mack said to him. ‘Do you have another damsel who needs rescuing?’

‘No, but you’d be the first man I’d call, if I did,’ Cal replied, then turned to Freya.

She took the hint and reached into her bag, withdrawing the bottle of whisky. ‘This is for you, to say thanks for your help with the bed and the sofa.’

Mack’s initial surprise was swiftly followed by a delighted smile. ‘You shouldn’t have.’

‘I got one, as well,’ Cal told him. ‘She was at the castle, delivering it, and I suggested she took a drive out here with me, as I was coming to see you anyway.’

The surprise was back. ‘You were?’

‘I’ve got a proposition for you,’ Cal said.

Freya, concerned that it might be a private conversation, said, ‘Shall I wait in the car?’

Cal shook his head. ‘No need. Stay here and enjoy the view.’

Heat immediately sprang into her face. Oh, hell! Cal must have noticed her reaction to the semi-clothed Mack, but there was no need for him to embarrass her like that.

Then she realised that Cal hadn’t been referring to Mack at all, as he said, ‘There’s an osprey,’ and pointed at the water.

Mack turned to look. ‘Aye, there’s a pair of them. I haven’t been able to spot a nest, but they’re doing a lot of fishing, so I think they’ve got chicks.’

‘Which brings me to why I’m here,’ Cal said. ‘Mhairi and I have been chatting, and she wants to offer a bespoke Colours of Skye tour.’

‘A what now?’ Mack frowned.

‘A tour of the loch and its natural wonders.’ Cal spoke to Freya as he explained, ‘I don’t know if you’re aware, but the castle runs short breaks, where people can try out several different crafts over the course of their stay.

It’s proving to be quite popular, and as an added perk,’ he turned back to Mack, ‘we were thinking we could offer boat trips around the loch, could serve as inspiration to the guests.’

Mack appeared to be confused. ‘Why couldn’t they just come on a normal excursion? Why would they need a special one?’

‘Because your trips concentrate on spotting seals, dolphins and whales. The Colours of Skye trips would look for those things as well, but it wouldn’t be the sole emphasis,’ Cal replied.

‘Our guests will be encouraged to look at the shape and colour of things like seaweed.’ He laughed. ‘I realise seaweed isn’t sexy, but—’

‘I know exactly what you mean,’ Freya broke in.

‘Creativity isn’t just about the bigger things like the sky, the mountains, the deer.

It’s also about the little things, such as the colours of a mussel shell or the strata in a rock formation.

’ She stopped abruptly, excitement coursing through her.

‘Can somebody let me know when the first trip is running, because I want to be on it.’

Mack was studying her. ‘You do ?’

‘Definitely.’

He scratched his beard, and Freya watched his fingers comb through the golden hairs, resisting an insane urge to stroke it.

The worrying thing wasn’t that thought, but the one which followed quickly on its heels, one where she didn’t want to stop at stroking his beard – she would want to stroke the rest of him. All of him.

Bloody hell! This was so unlike her. It must be due to stress. These past two weeks had been difficult, and the next few weren’t promising to be much better, and everyone knew that stress had peculiar ways of manifesting itself.

Freya hastily reminded herself that she was in a relationship, and she vowed to phone Hadrian later. It would be good to ground herself in her normal life, because being on Skye was starting to become somewhat surreal.

‘What are your initial thoughts?’ Cal asked.

Mack scratched his chin again. ‘I’m not sure.’

‘Will you at least think about it?’

‘I will, aye, but I’m pretty busy with my regular tours just now.’

‘How about trying one, and see how you get on?’

Mack sniggered. ‘You’re the one who is trying – my patience, that is. Get away with you, and let me finish cleaning my boat.’

‘I think you’ll find that the lads have done it already,’ Cal pointed out, jerking his head towards a couple of men nearby. ‘This is just a suggestion, but you could put on an additional trip once or twice a week.’

‘I work enough hours already! Are you trying to kill me, man?’

‘Do you trust your crew?’

‘Implicitly.’ Mack’s reply was immediate and emphatic.

‘Couldn’t they take out the boat for one of the trips? Then you could run the Colours of Skye one without doing any more hours yourself. There’ll still be time for—’

Mack interrupted, ‘Haud yer wheesht a minute and let a man think.’ His eyes narrowed, and he called the two men over. ‘What do you say to earning a bit extra?’

The men exchanged glances. ‘Doing what?’

‘Taking the boat back out.’

‘This evening?’ one of them asked.

‘Now.’

‘Why?’

‘Because Cal here has got an idea in his head and he’s pestering me about it.’

A shrug from the shorter of the two. ‘Aye, it’s nae bother.’

Cal’s expression was one of confusion. ‘But how can you run a trip if there’s no one on it?’

‘There will be someone on it,’ Mack said.

‘I can’t go; I’ve got to get back.’ Cal was shaking his head as he backed away.

But when Mack’s striking blue eyes turned in her direction, Freya knew who he’d lined up to go on this excursion – her .