Page 8 of Suddenly Single
He nodded.
God, but he was a tough one. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a very quiet man?”
A vague hint of a smile turned one corner of his mouth, and he arched a brow. “I’d wager a quiet man is the only type of man you’ve ever met.”
Surprised, Jenny laughed.“Veryfunny,” she said, nodding.“I’ve been told I am a woman of many words.”
He braced one hand against the island.
“Okay, all right.I know that look,” she said.“That is definitely the look of a man who has been kept too long in his apron.” She started for the door.
“We’re good, then?” he asked through a yawn.“No cake?”
“Surprisingly, no,” she said.The waistband of her palazzo pants was so freakingtightall of a sudden. “I’ll save it for breakfast. What time is breakfast?”
Outlander looked at her like she was crazy, but Jenny was definitely the type of girl who needed to know where her next meal was coming from. “I’m kidding,” she said. “But…breakfast will be served, right?”
“No.The inn is closed,” he reminded her. “There’s a market in East Beach if you need anything.”
Jenny had no idea how to get to East Beach, obviously, but she’d figure it out tomorrow.She was suddenly too full and exhausted.“Great.Well, thanks again,” she said, and started for the door.When she reached it, she looked back.Outlander was still watching her.Warily.As if he expected she’d make a run at the pantry.“Wi-Fi?” she asked hopefully.
The corner of his mouth rose up so fleetingly that it was possible she’d imagined it.“You canna eat Wi-Fi.”
“More’s the pity.But I need to email my dad and tell him where I am.”
“In the lounge,” he said.
“Great.Thanks again, Edan.Good night.”
“Good night, then.”
She walked out with the vision of a pair of muscular legs beneath that kilt dancing in her mind’s eye.
Of all the gin joints in all the world, she had to walk into his,she thought, in her best Humphrey Bogart accent.
Four
The sun slipped through the seam between the drapes to wake Edan the next morning.He groaned, sat up and looked about the spacious and fairly empty master suite he occupied in the turret of the old inn. His kilt was on the chair where he’d tossed it last night.His boxers were hanging off the post at the foot of the bed.His shirt was lying crumpled up on the floor.Sandra, his late aunt’s long-time partner, had minded this place for years and would not be happy with his slovenly dispatch of last night.
He hauled himself out of bed.He shoved his hands through his hair and padded naked across the room to the en suite.As he walked by one of the windows, a flash of orange caught his eye.Edan paused.He took a step backward and squinted out the window. That was the motor mouth Jenny, judging by the caramel hair. She was on the first tee of the little 9-hole golf course he’d put in two years ago to attract more guests.She was bent over, her hands and feet on the ground, her hair pooling on the orange mat she’d spread beneath her.
What the bloody hell was she doing? Edan squinted as she suddenly moved one leg back, then rose up, lifting her arms high in the air as she arched her back.
Yoga?On his tee box? What time was it? He glanced around to the clock on the mantel above the hearth.Half past six in the morning. Was she mad? It was a bloody golfcourse! It was too early for controversy, and yoga on a tee box was definitely his idea of controversy.There was a time and place for everything.
He walked on. Stomping, really, still disconcerted and at odds with the world.Between the wedding and her unexpected arrival, he couldn’t seem to find his bearings.
He was being ridiculous, he knew. Yesterday had been a perfect day—the air had been still and crystal clear, the hills around Lake Haven a verdant-green backdrop to the dancing of inebriated, happy adults. The bride and groom had made a beautiful couple.
Edan had known Rosalyn and Hugh since he’d come over from Scotland five years ago to help his aunt with the inn.They’d come a year before him, two ex-patriot Scots who had happened upon work at the inn. At the time, they’d been merely friends. Edan had known almost the moment they’d fallen in love.
Or rather, Audra, his ex-fiancée, had figured it out and had told him.
It had taken Rosalyn and Hugh a while to make their way to the altar. Edan and Audra were supposed to have been at the altar a full three months before them, but that obviously hadn’t happened.
Still, the wedding for Rosalyn and Hugh had been everything Edan could have hoped for them.They were like family to him, especially since he really had none of his own here now.His aunt was gone, his fiancée was gone.All he had was this bloody inn.
The Cassian Inn was an old family estate, left to his American mother and her sister.It had been in the family for generations, but Edan’s mother had met a Scot and married him, and had given the inn to Clara.When Edan was nineteen, his mother lost the battle with breast cancer.Fifteen years later, Aunt Clara was diagnosed with the same aggressive form of cancer and had died two years ago.
