Page 62 of Summer Escapes on the Scottish Isle

‘I’ve thought of little else,’ she admitted.

‘When do they want an answer?’

‘Soon.’

‘When would they want you to start?’

‘They’ve not given me a date, but the chap I’ll be taking over from is retiring at the end of the year, so I expect I would start in January.’

He pulled back to look her in the face. ‘What are you waiting for? And don’t say you’re waiting for me to get better to tell them yes, because if you are, I’ll put you over my knee.’

‘That won’t do your hip any favours,’ she joked.

‘I’ll do it anyway.’

Freya kissed him on the cheek, his whiskers bristly. ‘I believe you.’

‘Is Hadrian holding you back? Because if he is…’

‘It’s not Hadrian.’

‘What is it, then?’

‘It’s me. What if I’m not good enough?’

‘Youaregood enough.’ He sounded positive.

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Because I know you. When you set your mind to doing something, you do it. And you throw your heart and soul into it. Go tell them yes, Freya. Opportunities like this don’t come often.’

Her dad was right: they didn’t. Whatwasshe waiting for?

Freya said, ‘Let me put this lot away and get cleaned up first, then I’ll send them an email.’

‘That’s my girl! Now, what’s for tea? I’m starving.’

‘I can do us salmon and cucumber sandwiches, with some sea salt and cracked pepper crisps. How does that sound?’

‘Super.’

She watched him slowly retreat into the depths of the kitchen, then she returned to the task of clearing up. She would take her equipment to Mack’s place later – after dropping him a message first, of course, in case it wasn’t convenient. He may have told her to pop in whenever she wanted, but she had no intention of taking the mickey.

She hoped he’d be OK with that, because although the weather had been kind to her this afternoon, this was Skye, where no two days – or even hours – were the same, and she wanted somewhere dry and safe to store her material.

When Mack’s phone buzzed, he didn’t expect it to be a message from Freya, wanting to know whether she could drop some stuff at the byre later. He pinged a thumbs-up emoji right back, then wished he’d taken the time to compose a proper response.

After rushing through the end-of-day chores and ensuring the boat was set up for tomorrow morning’s excursion, he shot off home, intending to give the byre a swift tidy, but when he pulled up to the house and saw Freya’s van outside, he realised she’d beaten him to it.

His heart leapt, and he blew out his cheeks in irritation. There was no need to be quite so happy to see her. It wasn’t as though it was going to lead to anything. Even if there was a chance it might, he wouldn’t want to take it – the risk was too great. He didn’t intend to be hurt again by getting involved with a woman who wouldn’t be around for long.

Ignoring the irony – that a woman who wouldn’t be around for long wasexactlythe kind he usually focused on – Mack climbed out of the truck and headed for the byre.

He found Freya standing in the middle of the former cowshed with a large plastic tub in her arms.

‘Hi,’ he said.

She let out a yelp and nearly dropped the box she was holding. ‘Don’t creep up on people like that!’

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