Page 88 of Lochlan

Emotions ran high the last time we were together. Since that night, I've been trying hard to put Lochlan in the past. Some days are better than others.

“I'm fine,” I admit, staring down my empty glass. “I assume you caught my game.”

“Aye, I did. I've seen volleyball in a gym, but never on the beach. I take that back. I've never seen a professional game on a beach.”

“What did you think?”

“Other than trying to understand the jargon, I thought you were magic.”

A pitcher of beer arrives with a plate piled high with coconut shrimp. “I asked the cook to do a triple order, enough for you to share. If you don't want that much, I'll comp you the food,” she says, gazing at Geordie.

He smiles up at her. “No need, lass, I'll take care of the bill and include a generous tip for your thoughtfulness.”

She nods, shifting on her feet with nervousness under his gaze. “I'm Melinda if you need anything else.”

Geordie continues to watch Melinda as she moves to another table.

“Okay, we have food and beer. Tell me how you found me.”

He reluctantly swings his attention back to me. “It wasn't easy, after discovering your address and phone number we have on file were not correct. It was a combination of detective work and happenstance. Connell and I were working in the barrel room talking about our upcoming weekend when I asked him how you were. He said you were fine and that you would be in Santa Barbara at a tournament. With that bit of information, it was easy to find the venue, because they advertise the names of the players.”

“Is Lochlan all right?”

“He's fine, busy with the first phase of Catriona opening in a few weeks.”

“If you're not giving me dire news about Lochlan, then why are you here?”

“There are several reasons, but the first is that I wanted to see you. I miss you causing drama in our life. I've given you space; I just hoped that after all that's happened and despite my idiot cousin, I thought we could still be friends.”

How would a friendship with Geordie, someone who's close to Lochlan, work? There'd be a large part of his life I couldn't be a part of. But how could I ignore the friendship of this sweet, giant man? It's the same with Connell, because most of his waking life revolves around MacTavish Cellars.

“I'll always see you as a friend,” I say.

“Good. I thought I might have to plead my case for us to remain as friends.”

He plucks a shrimp from the plate and devours it in one bite. “This is a fine combination; I might have another plate.”

We talk mostly about nothing, like two friends enjoying each other's company. Hours go by and I remember that I'm meeting Livi for dinner. “Give me a minute, I need to text my partner. We're going to meet for dinner and a party after…would you like to come along?”

“I'm booked on a flight for home in a couple of hours. The invitation to escort two lassies to dinner and a party is inviting, but my answer is no.” He nods at the empty pitcher and two lonely shrimp on a platter. “If you're done, I'd like to walk you to your motel, after a walk on the beach.”

I take off my sandals before stepping onto the sand. Geordie does the same with a pair of boots he's been wearing. It's a wonderful suggestion to take a walk on the beach just before sunset. Others are walking silently as a salty breeze ruffles our hair. A seagull squawks overhead. Geordie glances up to watch its flight. “It's a wonder you can walk the beaches here at sunset without being molested.”

“Are you talking about the midges? You know there aren't any in Edinburgh, or were you thinking of the islands of Lewis and Shetland, like your favorite police series?”

He shakes his head. “No, I was referring to the countless people who are trying to shove leaflets in your hand as you walk the beach near Edinburgh.”

“There's an outcropping of rocks just over there. Let's sit and watch the sunset.”

It doesn't take much to reach the boulders. There are a few people with the same idea but they are far enough away from each other that our conversations or presence won't spoil the moment when we see the sun slipping into the sea.

“Do you miss living in Edinburgh?” I ask.

Geordie stretches his long legs out before him. “Aye, I'll always miss Scotland; it's where I grew up. But America has its charm, and I'm enjoying the adventure of a new place and people.”

“I spent summers in Scotland with my parents. I can see how you would miss it.”

He watches the sea as he speaks to me. “Have you ever seen yourself living there full-time?”

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