Page 77 of Scotch on the Rocks

“What?”

I nodded to his closely shorn hair.

“Oh.” He brushed a self-conscious hand over it. “Just fancied a wee change.”

“It suits you. How’s work going?”

He studied the laminated menu in his hands long enough that an awkwardness curled up like a cat in the middle of the table. “I didn’t come here to talk about work.”

I frowned. You usually couldn’t shut him up about work. Alistair wasn’t a narcissist by any means, but he was passionate about medicine. “We can’t catch up? We’ve barely spoken in months.”

“Work… it’s y’know, the same …” He fiddled with the cutlery, lining the napkin up against the edge of the table. “Boring. There isn’t really a lot to say.”

“I don’t believe that for a minute.” Something was going on with him. He had more tells than a dog with a thorn in its paw. “How long are you here for?”

“I didn’t realise this was an inquisition.” I waited, unmoving, until he blew out an agitated breath. “I’m not sure, a few weeks, maybe longer.”

Longer?“Oh,” I lowered my own menu, really looking at him now. “You’d tell me if something was up, right?”

“Of course,” he said quickly.

Too quickly.

My phone buzzed at my elbow and I snatched it up.

Harpy: Home.

The tightness in my chest eased a fraction. One word. But it was enough.

I turned back to ask Alistair just as Jess appeared, far quicker than a woman who refused to use her hospital-issued cane should. “Are my ancient eyes playin’ tricks on me, or is that you, Alistair, lad?”

“Jess.” His expression flipped from uncertain to charming in an instant. I could almost believe I’d imagined the past ten minutes if it hadn’t been for the effortless way that he steered every one of her questions back on her.

“Yer look well lad, you got a sweetheart treatin’ you right?”

“No one that compares to you, Jess. How are your daughters?”

“Ach,” She waved a hand. “Meddlesome wee shits are on at me to retire. How’s life in the city?”

He laughed, sitting back in his chair. “No comparison to Skye. The village is busier than ever, business must be booming.”

I ordered on autopilot, fighting the need to shake my brother, find out what was going on with him and fix it. But Juniper’s words filtered back.Who’s taking care of you?

I released my tight hold on the cutlery.

If Alistair needed my help, he’d come to me. Lord knew I had enough on my plate. And it wasn’t like I didn’t have my own secrets.

So when he asked, “How’s Dad?” I told him without a single deviation.

21

Juniper

Alistair: June … I’m so sorry about today. It wasn’t supposed to go down like that.

“This is why you have your damn rules.” I thumped my fist into the pillow, doing a better job of beating it into submission than I was changing the bedsheets.

The guest room was a mess after the oh so charming Mr Lewis had checked out. Dirty towels strewn across the floor, piles of old receipts beside the bed. When I’d stripped off the linens, a crusty-looking tissue had made a littleTa-daappearance, as though he’d left it behind as a little departure present. I’d worn the designated “bodily fluids” rubber gloves to dispose of it.

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