Page 26 of Summer Escapes on the Scottish Isle (Coorie Castle Crafts #2)

‘Stop calling me Skip.’

‘OK, Skip.’

‘I thought your name was Mack,’ a voice said, and Mack turned to see a pretty blonde woman standing behind him. It took him a moment to place her. Then he realised he’d dated her last summer, but couldn’t for the life of him remember her name.

‘Hi,’ he said. ‘Long time, no see. It is Mack, but this bozo thinks it’s funny to call me Skip. What are you doing here?’

She gave him a puzzled look. ‘I’m on holiday.’

Ah, a tourist. For a moment he’d thought she might have been from Portree. ‘I know,’ he said, thinking on his feet. ‘But there are so many wonderful places in Scotland, I don’t think I’d go to the same place twice.’

She looked hurt. ‘We come here every year. I told you that. I said, see you next year . Remember?’

Oh heck… His eyes found Cal’s, who was watching with interest from his seat at the table, and he sent him a pleading look.

Cal took the hint and sauntered over. ‘Mack, mate, I need a word. In private.’ He smiled at the woman. ‘Sorry, it’s a work thing.’ He shoved Mack towards the gents and, once inside, said, ‘You owe me.’

‘Thanks. She’s a tourist and I went out with her last year, but I didn’t expect to see her again.’ Mack stepped to the sink and washed his hands.

‘It’s not nice when the shoe is on the other foot, is it?’ Cal said.

‘Eh?’

‘Freya. I reckon you’ve got it bad, mate.’

‘What are you on about?’ He shook off the excess water, then shoved his hands under the dryer.

‘Freya – you’ve got it bad.’

‘You’re talking rubbish.’

‘I’ve seen the way you look at her.’ Cal made puppy-dog eyes at him.

Mack scowled. ‘Do you know how gormless you look?’

‘It’s the way you look at Freya.’

Mack shook his head. ‘You’re wrong.’ He stepped away from the dryer, wondering why the damned things never dried properly, and wiped his hands on the backside of his cut-offs instead.

‘Am I? I reckon she’s got under your skin.’

‘No chance.’

‘Have it your way, but I know I’m right.’

‘You’re not. Just because you’re all starry-eyed and drooly, don’t assume everyone else is.’

‘Drooly?’

‘Yeah, you drool over Tara.’

‘I do not!’

Relieved that he’d managed to turn the conversation away from himself, Mack thumped Cal lightly on the back and slipped out the door.

The woman was thankfully nowhere in sight.

But as he made his way back to the table, he saw Freya laughing with Jinny and Tara, and he knew Cal was right: he did look at her like a love-struck puppy. The problem was that he felt a bit like one too.

He’d better watch his step – falling in love wasn’t on his agenda, and especially not with her.

Mack and Freya had only just left the pub and hadn’t gone more than

ten steps, when the first fat raindrops hit. Ten steps more, and the

heavens opened.

With a squeal, Freya grabbed his hand and began to run.

Mack hesitated for a split second then allowed himself to be towed along as she made a dash for it.

He didn’t like to tell her that no matter how fast they ran, the soaking they were about to get was inevitable.

But when she dived into the bus shelter, he was glad he hadn’t said anything.

He was disappointed when she immediately let go of his hand, though. It had felt warm and soft, even if her grip had been firmer than a weightlifter on steroids. Resisting the impulse to reach for it again, he shoved his hands in his pockets.

Shaking the drops from her jacket, Freya said, ‘I’m hoping this is only a passing shower, but I get the feeling it’s in for the night.’

Mack did too. ‘Shall we give it five and see whether it eases up?’

The rain was dropping vertically, tamping onto the ground in a steady downpour, and a small river had formed in the gutter.

‘At least we’re on our way home,’ she said, then groaned. ‘Oh no, you’ve got further to go than me. If it doesn’t ease, you’ll be drenched. I’d offer to drive you, but I’ve had too much to drink.’

‘That’s the whole point of walking,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry, it won’t be the first time I’ve had a soaking going home from the pub.’

‘Shall I see if my dad’s got a waterproof jacket you can borrow?’

‘It’s fine. I’m used to being wet, it’s part of working on a boat.’

She said, ‘Remind me to carry a brolly with me at all times. I’m not as keen on the wet as you seem to be.’

‘Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like it, but I can ignore it.’

She laughed. It was throaty, what Angus would call a ‘dirty’ laugh, and his pulse leapt.

‘Could you honestly ignore that?’ She flung an arm up to the sky. If anything, the downpour was getting worse.

‘Perhaps not,’ he admitted, wondering when it was going to let up and hoping it wouldn’t be too soon. He was enjoying her company and didn’t want the evening to end. Enjoying it too much, perhaps.

‘So,’ he said brightly, scratching around for something to talk about. ‘You’re off to the craft centre tomorrow?’

She beamed. ‘I am, and I’m really looking forward to it. Seeing other artists at work is always a treat, and I didn’t manage to have a proper look around last time because Cal dragged me off to Muirporth Quay.’

‘Am I to assume that your first port of call will be the pottery studio?’

‘Not necessarily. It might be the cafe. Jinny made the mistake of mentioning cake.’

‘They do good food,’ he acknowledged. ‘I’ve eaten there a few times myself.’

‘Would you like to come with me?’

Mack cringed. ‘I wasn’t angling for an invitation.’

‘I didn’t think you were.’

She didn’t ? Now he felt even more of an eejit. ‘I wish I could,’ he said, ‘but I’ll be out on the boat.’

‘Pity, I would have treated you to a slice of something yummy, since you won’t allow me to pay you for using the byre. Maybe another time?’

‘I’d like that.’

‘I could probably stretch to something more substantial, like a slap-up dinner?’

He didn’t want her thanks, and he certainly didn’t want her to feel that she owed him anything, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to go out to dinner with her. He had no intention of letting her pay, though, so that would be a discussion if, and when, the dinner actually took place.

‘Would you consider going to the castle again?’ he asked, an idea beginning to form.

‘I would; the food was divine, but they don’t accept outside bookings. You have to be a guest.’

‘Mhairi makes an exception for locals. I’ll ask her, shall I? I think she owes me one.’

‘Oh, that’s right! I forgot to ask. How was your first photography trip?’

‘It was OK, actually. Only five people were on it, but Cal said that the feedback was positive, and there are more booked onto the next one. It makes a change from hoping and praying that a bottlenose will show its face.’

As he finished speaking, Freya hugged herself and shivered. It may be summer on Skye, but the rain was cold.

‘Come on,’ he said, ‘let’s make a move. You’re getting chilled, and if we wait for the rain to ease, we could be here all night.’

The possibility of spending all night with her gave him goosebumps. Stop it , he growled silently. He really needed to sort himself out; lusting after her wasn’t going to do either of them any good.

Freya was already wet, so they walked quickly rather than ran, and by the time they reached her door, her hair was dripping and rainwater was running down her face. He guessed he looked equally as bedraggled.

Freya fumbled a set of keys out of her pocket, openly shivering, and although he wanted to linger, she needed to go inside and dry off.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to borrow a coat?’ she asked, her teeth chattering.

‘I’m sure. Get yourself inside before you catch your death.’

‘I hate the thought of you—’

‘I can’t get any wetter,’ he pointed out.

‘But if you catch a chill, I’ll blame myself.’

Mack grinned and shook his head. ‘Stop fussing.’

‘You sound like my dad. He keeps telling me off for fussing.’

‘Do you think he might have a point?’

Freya rolled her eyes and pushed the door open. ‘Don’t forget to ask about dinner at the castle.’

He assured her he wouldn’t forget, then waited for her to go inside.

He was nearly at his own front door before he realised it was still raining.