Page 64 of Summer Escapes on the Scottish Isle

‘But I do like it,’ he protested, and when she arched an eyebrow, he insisted, ‘Ido.’

‘OK, I believe you.’

‘You do? Thank goodness for that!’

She threw her head back, exposing the creamy column of her slender neck, and laughed. ‘No.’

‘You’re a hard, unforgiving woman. It was just a slip of the tongue,’ he protested, thankful that she didn’t seem upset. He hastily changed the subject. ‘When are you likely to be leaving British shores for the Wild West?’

‘Not until the end of the year. I emailed the academy earlier to ask her to forward me the contract. I’m sure it’ll be a standard one, but I want to read it through and make sure there aren’t any nasty surprises before I sign on the dotted line. I won’t be handing in my notice to the college until September and, with a January start, they should have enough time to find my replacement.’

‘I bet they’ll be sorry to lose you,’ he said gallantly.

‘Even though I make ugly pots?’

‘You’re making fun of me.’

‘Yup.’

‘Meany.’

‘If you can’t take it, don’t dish it.’

‘You do want to use my byre, don’t you?’

‘You’d go back on your offer?’

‘I might.’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t think you would. You’re too nice to go back on your word.’

Nice?She thought he wasnice? He’d prefer sexy or irresistible, charming, even. Nice was so bland.

Blowing out his cheeks, he reminded himself that she had a boyfriend. She hadn’t been flirting, she was just being friendly. He, though, most definitelyhadbeen flirting. Which was something he’d have to get a grip on before she noticed. Either that, or make himself scarce whenever she was around – which may be a fair bit, he concluded as he watched her unpack the tools of her trade and arrange them on the workbench.

Oh, bugger, how could he have been such a bampot! But it was done now, and he couldn’t revoke the offer. He would simply have to hold his growing attraction for her in check and remember that she’d be out of his byre and out of his life before the autumn weather put the brakes on his whale-watching business.

But whether she would be out of his mind was a different matter entirely.

Chapter 17

Freya couldn’t believe that it was already a month since the phone call informing her that her dad had suffered a fall and been admitted to hospital. The time had flown. Admittedly, the first week had been a blur of hospital visits and hotel rooms, and the second hadn’t been much better, what with her dash to London, the long drive back to Skye, and then getting her dad’s house in a fit state for him to come home to.

And that was just the physical stuff. The emotional side of things had been equally difficult, especially since her father had been under the impression that he could manage fine on his own and that she was surplus to requirements.

But as she’d hoped, the pair of them had settled into a routine, and she put it down to her dad finally accepting that he wasn’t able to do everything he used to without support, and that he wouldn’t be able to for some time. The fall had knocked him for six, and the healing of the wound and the knitting of the bone were only part of it. He had a tremor in his left hand that she wasn’t happy with, but he assured her it was a leftover from when he’d damaged his wrist a couple of years ago. She couldn’t remember him telling her about it, despite him insisting that he had, and he claimed that using the walker had aggravated it, as he wasn’t used to putting so much pressure on the joint.

As well as that, he still seemed rather unsteady on his feet, even with his walker, and not sleeping was also an issue for him; and for her too, because she was on constant alert in case he got up in the night – which he did at least once, and sometimes three times. It was exhausting for both of them.

He blamed it on a weak bladder and the joys of growing old, and challenged her to find anyone over the age of sixty who slept through the night. Needless to say, Freya wasn’t going to accept the challenge. Instead, she filed it away in a box in her mind labelled:I hope I don’t get like that when I’m old. She also added irritability and forgetfulness to it, because her dad seemed to have both of those qualities in abundance, and there was only so much that could be excused by his fall and the subsequent operation.

Despite it all, they were muddling along together, with Freya doing her best to make life as easy as possible for him, and escaping to Mack’s place whenever she was able, although never for very long.

It was Mack who had invited her out this evening. It wasn’t a date, obviously, but as friends. He had a pint in the village every Friday with his mates and had suggested she came along if she fancied a night out, so she hadn’t visited her makeshift studio today, as she didn’t like leaving her dad alone twice in one day, the only exception being her daily walk to the shop for his newspaper.

‘Have you got everything you need, Dad?’ she asked for the second time in as many minutes.

Vinnie tutted. ‘You’ve just asked me that.’

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