Page 73 of Highland Hearts Holiday Bookshop

Not really.

And if I did, it would just have one word on it.

Rosie.

But it was too soon for all that, and I needed some time to get comfortable with how seamlessly she’d fit herself into my life.

“Well, in the nature of transparency then.” Rosie walked to the kitchen counter and smoothed the paper out, and I leaned over to have a look.

“Interesting hobbies.” I looked up at her. “Does birdwatching and board games count?”

“Absolutely. I guess I should have clarified that they might be hobbies I also enjoy.” Rosie gave me a shy look.

“Ex-boyfriend had boring hobbies?”

“He gambled. On sports. It was sort of all-consuming for him and deeply uninteresting for me. Do you gamble?”

“Nah, maybe a cheeky bet among friends here and there. Not a proper wager or anything of the sort.”

“Good to know.” Rosie sniffed. She tapped a finger on the paper. “Likes to read.”

“A good thing for a bookshop owner,” I agreed. Thank goodness I loved to read. “I also like a partner that enjoys books.”

“Enjoys travel.”

“Naturally, exploring is always good.” So long as she didn’t want to travel every weekend. I liked some consistency in my life. But travel meant I could possibly up my score on BirdFindr.

“Sense of humor. Intelligence. A kind heart. Won’t leave me.” At the last one, Rosie’s fingers clenched, wrinkling the paper, and I reached out and traced a finger across the back of her hand, wanting to ease her obvious tension.

“Because your mum left a lot?” She’d told me about her chaotic upbringing, and I could understand why she craved stability in her life. I was much the same, but that was because I’d grown up in a stable environment that I’d really enjoyed. After the chaos of Tara, I was happy to be finally back to my baseline of a consistent and reliable routine.

“I just want someone to choose me, I guess, and to put me first. I don’t want to be an afterthought anymore.”

“I understand.” I did, but for different reasons. My ex-wife had made so many decisions without me, that being kept in the dark had torn us apart—and that was long before she’d started cheating on me. She’dwanted the excitement of doing whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, and I’d hated feeling like I never had all the information. That I was inconsequential in her life because she didn’t share even the most basic of things with me like wanting to book a trip to Wales for the weekend. Simple things, but it had eroded our foundation of trust. So, yes, I understood wanting to be put first in someone’s life. It should be a priority. “My ex-wife made a game out of hiding things from me. She seemed to find it fun, this keeping me on my toes, but I just realized after a while that I wasn’t really her person. It would be nice to be an actual partner with someone someday.”

My breath left me. It was the first time I’d articulated that I actually wanted to take a chance on a partner again. Hope bloomed. Maybe this Christmas season wouldn’t be so lonely after all.

“It’s tough, isn’t it? Feeling out of control in someone else’s choices?” Rosie shook her head. “I think that’s why I settled into a tepid life for a while. In some respects, the blandness soothed me.”

I wondered if Kingsbarns would do the same, and then one day she’d wake up and realize that it was too boring for her and on she’d go. Off to another big adventure.

A shaft of sunlight speared through the window, and I shook my head. Those were heavy thoughts for a morning of birdwatching with my friends-with-benefits friend.

“Och, well you’re in fora treat this morning. Because there is nothing bland about birdwatching.” I leered at her and Rosie laughed.

“Oh, I can imagine. I mean, it must be riveting,” Rosie teased, and I held up my phone.

“Here’s the main one we’re looking for. A cedar waxwing. Quite rare to the area, but we’ll luck out if we see one.”

“And then you’ll advance in your ranks on BirdFindr?” Rosie squinted at the photo.

“That’s the plan.” I zipped up my coat and hung the binoculars around my neck.

“Let’s do this. I’m ready to kick some birdfinding ass.”

Two hours later, and Rosie was still enthusiastic. I couldn’t believe it.

Not once did she complain as we trudged across frozen fields, bitter winter wind making our cheeks ruddy with the cold. Moody clouds hung low over the slate-gray ocean, white caps marring the choppy surface. We’d wandered along the beach for a while before we’d tucked ourselves away in a forest near Cambo Gardens, the ancient trees a canopy over our heads.

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