Page 38 of Mistletoe Season
The words hit him in quick succession, and his brain attempted to catch up.
“Luke loaned you some work clothes for roofing a house, but you’re going to need to purchase your own if you want some that fit.”
Words. Arran knew he understood them, but none of them made sense. Work clothes? Roofing?
He pushed himself up to a sitting position, and the pain in his head exploded into an agonizing pulse. Wincing, he pressed his palms against his forehead, trying to recall what stupid thing he’d done to get himself into this degree of misery. The sinking recollection began dawning through the fog. A small-town street. Murphy’s Bar?
“I’m not certain what is different about the native nectar of the Blue Ridge,” he growled. “But I only had two servings of Murphy’s special brew and barely remember what happened next.”
“How on earth did you find your way into his pub?”
“GPS stopped working, so I sought out directions.” He attempted to sit up straighter. “And it was the only place that seemed open.”
“From what Luke says, Murphy takes pride in making his homemade whiskey as strong as possible.” Ellie sighed. “You had no idea how hard it was going to hit you.”
“And on an empty stomach, no less.” He groaned, blinking both eyes open. Last night? Arran’s head throbbed from the effort to pullup syrupy thoughts. A woman? Gray eyes. Had she been real? Arran pressed his palms into his aching eyeballs. “Last night wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”
Ellie didn’t respond.
“Despite the current representation, this hasnotbeen my routine for the past month.” He pushed a hand through his hair, but even that seemed to hurt his head. “I had already begun to make changes to my life. Dropped those toxic friends, started to show up to family and royal events.” He raised his gaze to hers. “I even went to one of Gran’s horse shows as her plus-one.”
“And caused all of her geriatric friends to swoon at your charm, no doubt.” Ellie placed her hand over his on the bed. “Like old times. Before Angelica.”
He closed his eyes, in part due to the pain, in part to avoid Ellie’s knowing look. “I lost my way, El, but I don’t mean to stay there.” He met her gaze. “I don’twantto stay there anymore.”
“Which is why you’re here.” Her brows hovered northward to add emphasis. “Of yourownaccord.”
“With some heavy prodding from our parents.”
“But still of your own accord, which shows where your heart truly is.” She searched his face, the gentleness in her expression dousing some of his self-loathing. There was barely a year of difference between them, and surprisingly, he was the elder of the two. But over the past two years, she’d superseded him in wisdom and solid life choices. “You know I understand how hard it is to rise from bad choices, but here you are.”
“Here I am, for my fresh start.”
And he’d bungled it masterfully so far.
An image of the silver-eyed woman emerged in his mind again, and this time he was standing in front of her, looking down into her heart-shaped face.
“What... exactly happened last night?”
Ellie’s nose wrinkled with her frown, digging a deeper trench for his unease. “Do you remember anything?”
He closed his eyes, and a few images filtered through. The first one...
Arran shot a look at his sister. “Did I get sick on a woman?”
“You did.” Ellie squinted. “All over the front of her.”
His stomach knotted as another foggy memory emerged. “And... and I hit her in the face?” His eyes wilted closed again, the pain in his chest now rivaling the one in his head. “I’ve never hit a woman.”
“You didn’tmeanto.”
The story of his life. He didn’tmeanto mess up, and yet he did.
He didn’tmeanto look like an idiot. But here he was.
“Is she alright?”
“She’s fine, I believe. Her name is Charlotte. She’s Luke’s cousin.”
