Page 95 of Scotch on the Rocks

“Because as soon as I talk to her I’ll have to confess everything. I guess it’s finally dawning on me that she’ll be back soon, and she might not be happy with what she finds.”

“Have you considered that maybe she hasn’t called because, instead of worrying, she’s using her time away to let loose, exactly like you hoped she would?”

“You think?”

He shrugged, hands tightening around my foot. “As much as you needed to know that you can manage thisplace alone, she probably needs to discover that there’s still a life for her outside of Ivy House.”

We lapsed into silence as I pondered that. I’d spent so long thinking of the inn and Kinleith as some kind of self-exiled prison, I’d never once stopped to consider if Fiona felt the same. Was she clinging to the past so tightly because she feared letting go without the promise of something to catch her?

“I don’t know her like you do, sweetheart. But Idoknow that you were really fucking brave, you took a risk and worked your arse off to make it happen. There isn’t a chance in hell Fiona will walk into this room and not see the love and dedication you’ve poured into every inch of it.”

“Bloody hell. You’re irritatingly sweet sometimes. No wonder every woman on this island melts for you.”

He laughed, sinking down beside me until we were eye level. “Melts for me? Who might that be?”

“Who do you think? Jill Mortimer.” My nose screwed. “Just the thought of her curves and all that blonde hair makesmewant to date her.”

Callum looked delighted. “Oh, I get it now.”

“What?”

“This …” He waved a hand. “Seeing you jealous is a lot of fun.”

“I’m not jealous!”

Eyes dancing, he crawled over me. “You are so fucking jealous. It’s cute. If it makes you feel better, I’ve been there … a lot.”

I bypassed that little confession and said, “A man hasn’t called me cute in my entire life.”

“Idiots. The lot of them.” He parted my thighs with a knee and lowered between them. “You’re exceedingly cute.Especiallywhen you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

He pecked a kiss to my throat, then a second to my pulse. “Did you write about it in your diary? Burn pictures of my face on a blood moon?”

“Fuck off, Macabe.”

He barked a laugh. “Back to Macabe, are we?”

“Yes!” Feeling way too vulnerable, I folded my arms over my face, shielding my expression.

“Juniper, sweetheart …” His face burrowed into my chest, allowing me the privacy I needed. “Nothing ever happened with Jill. Unless you count a drunken kiss when I was sixteen … which I don’t.”

My body, just on the cusp of relaxing, stiffened all over again and I was glad I couldn’t see his face as I spat, “That counts.”

His fingers brushed up my waist. “Then I feel pretty shitty because it was my first kiss and I’d downed an entire bottle of cheap cider five minutes earlier, which I proceeded to throw up all over her shoes the second it ended. Not exactly my finest moment.”

I dropped my hands, meeting his steady gaze. “I’m sorry. I’m a child.”

“You’re human. You think I don’t want to tear the balls from every man you’ve ever been with? Because I do. And I’ve had copious amounts of time to imagine exactly how I’d do it.”

“How?”

He bared his teeth. “Viciously.”

“Painfully?” My legs tightened around his hips.

“Jesus, you’re a bloodthirsty little demon, anyone ever tell you that?”

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