Page 12 of Kissing Games
His stomach knotted thinking of his mum. He’d sent flowers, chocolates and an apology for missing her birthday. But Tab was right. It wasn’t enough. Still, them thinking he was in Angola bought him some time. Time to work out if he could ever have a different relationship with them. Rory knew him better than his mum and dad; he understood what it was like to grow up with distant, upper-class parents who still worked from Victorian parenting manuals. His elder sister had turned out fine. Confident, assured, happy to fit into the family mould. She was now a colonel, running a base with charmingly cold-hearted efficiency. He’d never wanted to rise through the ranks. He wanted action, not admin.
The road narrowed as it wound its way down the glen towards the small village of Kinloch. At the highest point stood Kinloch Castle, Rory’s ancestral home. Dominating its surroundings, it was large, and largely falling down. Charlie had only ever visited once and remembered it as cold and musty. Every other visit to Scotland had been to Rory’s parents’ townhouse in Edinburgh. But the townhouse had been sold to pay off estate debts, and Rory’s mum, Barbara, was now a widow.
The taxi pulled off the road into the vast front courtyard, jiggling across the cobblestones. Charlie could see Rory and a tall redhead he knew was Zoe greeting—
No fucking way!
His heart sped up. How was this possible?
A Hollywood film. A Hollywood film star. Do the maths, dickhead.
He had to be cool. The car stopped and he got out, drawn into a bear hug by Rory. ‘Syphilis?’ he grunted in his best friend’s ear. ‘You fucker.’
‘I couldn’t spell gonorrhoea,’ Rory replied, disengaging with a grin. He stepped back. ‘Charlie, this is Zoe, my fia-girlfriend. Zoe, this is Charlie. He holds rich people’s shopping for a living.’
Zoe shook his hand. ‘Lovely to meet you, Charlie, and I know you do much more than that.’
She had a smattering of freckles across her nose, wild red curly hair, and a warm and open smile. Charlie smiled back.
Rory punched him hard on the arm. ‘Back off. And this is Valentina, one of the stars of the film.’
He pulled Charlie away from Zoe. This was it. He was no longer a random stalker with syphilis. He was the Earl of Kinloch’s best mate and meant to be here. He took Valentina’s small hand, feeling electricity crackle between them. He didn’t want to let go.
‘You were on my plane,’ he said, watching her lips part.
‘I thought you were onmyplane.’ She disengaged her hand and ran it through her hair. ‘And what are you doing here? Are you the muscle?’
His heart leapt. ‘I’m the brainsandthe muscle.’
There was a pause as they stared at each other.
Rory broke the moment by punching him on the arm again. ‘I’m the brains and the muscle, arsehole. You’re the house sitter.’
Charlie laughed. ‘Too slow with your comeback, mate, I think you’ve just proved my point.’
Zoe strode forward and pushed them apart. ‘Right,’ she said firmly. ‘That’s enough testosterone for one morning.’ She took Valentina’s suitcase off Rory. ‘You show Charlie where he’s staying and try not to fight or have sex with each other. I’m removing the brainsandthe beauty from this situation. Come on, Valentina. I’ll show you to your room.’
5
Following Rory through the castle, Charlie turned his head back and forth as he took in the changes. Gone was the dusty relic, in its place a palace. People wearing headsets walked briskly past them and voices filled the space.
He glanced at Rory. ‘I don’t remember it ever looking like this. Did Brad’s company pay for all of it?’
‘Yep. And you should see the bedrooms.’
Charlie followed him up the main staircase. ‘Do I get a four-poster bed?’
Rory snorted. ‘You’re lucky you’ve got a room at all. Everyone wanted to play lord of the manor.’ They reached the first landing and turned right. ‘I’m putting you at the end by the stairs to the attic rooms. It might be noisy but I want you at the centre of everything.’
The room was small, with dark wood panelling and a double bed. New radiators lined a wall and the fireplace was clean and stocked with fresh wood. A small shower room lay off the main bedroom. Charlie dropped his bag on the bed and whistled.
‘Mate, Brad Bauer must be your new best friend. If this is a shit room, I’d love to see a good one.’
‘The phrase “don’t bite the hand that feeds you” keeps running through my head every time I see him,’ Rory huffed. ‘It’s my new mantra.’
Charlie grinned. ‘You’re a crap hippy. Is that why I’m here? To stop you thumping him?’
‘Pretty much. You’re the only person I trust around here apart from Zoe. Let’s go to the office and I’ll fill you in.’
