Page 30 of Isla

"So you're in a relationship with the other two already?"

She shakes her head. "Dylan and I haven't had much time alone."

Fuck. A second ago I didn’t want to share, but now I’m worried about what will happen if she and Dylan don’t click. Would I be forced to give her up? "Why don't the two of you go check out those pubs you were talking about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Henry and I can hold the fort down."

"You sure you're ready for that?"

"Positive." I watch as she dips a spoon into the soup, carefully blowing before wrapping her lips around the utensil, her eyes rolling back. Fuck. I drag my gaze away from her, thinking about anything but how she'd look with something else in her mouth. Her groan has my cock twitching uncomfortably.

"You have to try this." She scoops up another spoonful and carefully steers it toward my mouth. The moment is incredibly intimate, the flush in her cheeks betraying exactly what she's thinking about. The flavor bursts over my tongue.

"Second best thing I've ever tasted."

"What's the first?" she asks, ripping off a chunk of bread, dipping it in the soup, and holding it to my mouth. I take it from her, licking the tips of her fingers.

"You."

"Jesus. You're smooth." Her eyes sparkle as she takes a bite of bread.

"If I were smooth, I would have put music on to set the mood a long time ago." I pull out my phone and press play to the song I've been listening to non-stop because it reminds me of her. The dulcet tones of “Sweet and Dark” float around us, adding even more tension to the atmosphere.

"It's never been like this before," she whispers, her eyes following the waves as they crash into the shore.

"Like what?" I need to hear her say it.

"Like you're a fresh mountain spring, and I haven't had a sip of water in years." No games. No cat and mouse. She's just telling it like it is, and it's so fucking refreshing. "Is it because I don't have experience, or is this normal?" she asks, looking up at me with wide eyes.

"There's not a single thing normal about this, Isla," I rasp, my voice breaking. I push to my feet, walking several steps away, running my hands through my hair, wondering what kind of hell I've gotten myself into. I turn back around, and she barrels into me, delicate hands gripping my collar, tipping my face down to hers, forcing me to meet her gaze.

"Don't close me out. I don't think I could bear it."

"I won't close you out, Isla."

"Promise me that no matter what happens, you'll always tell me how you're feeling." She's looking at me so earnestly, with so much hope, it almost hurts. "Promise me we'll figure this out."

I can't promise her that, so I pull her onto her toes and slick my tongue over her bottom lip instead. She kisses me hard and then breaks away, spinning with her arms out, her hair streaming around her like wildfire. I promised myself a long time ago that I would never again fall for the same girl as my brothers, but I never saw her coming.

14

"Ready to go, Freckles?" Dylan looks at me from the driver's seat, excitement radiating from him in waves, elegant hands flexing on the steering wheel. The guys are borrowing Cam’s old Defender, and it suits Dylan well, highlighting his rough, rugged edges and reminding me he's not just a nice guy–he's anincredibly attractivenice guy. I fasten my seatbelt, trying not to stare at the chameleon beside me. This is the third time I’ve been reminded how horribly wrong my first impression of him was. Today, he's wearing a wool coat the same color as his eyes, dark jeans, and leather boots.

"You look really nice. Do you pick out your clothes yourself?" I ask, my cheeks heating the second the words are out of my mouth. What a stupid thing to say.

"Yes,” he chuckles. “I’ve been interested in sustainable fashion for a few years now. I saw a video on wardrobe capsules and ran with it."

My eyebrows shoot up. "Really? I always wanted to do a capsule but never found the time. Maybe we can go shopping if we have extra time, and you can teach me your ways."

"I'd like that, but you don’t need my help in the fashion department.I'm jealous of how effortlessly cool you look." His gaze slides over my body, making me shiver.

"Aw, shucks." I can't keep the smile from my face, and Dylan returns it tenfold, his dimples doing funny things to my stomach. I've never met someone quite like him. I could peel off layer after layer and still learn new things.

"Are you going to tell me where we’re going?" Last night, when he texted me to ask if I was up for scoping out some pubs, he told me he'd plan the whole thing–all I needed to do was show up.

"We're going to Inverness. I originally wanted to stay on the islands, but I don't think we'll get the inspiration we need without going to a bigger city."

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