Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Delight and shock shot through me. “Fyfe?”
He grinned and I quickly unlocked the door, stepping outside to embrace my old friend. Fyfe hugged me, giving me a hard squeeze. As I pulled back, I stared at him in wonder. He looked so grown up … and manly. When we were kids, he was always shoving a pair of spectacles back up his nose. There were no glasses to be seen. His face, while handsome, had been long and narrow, and despite the fact Lewis trained him in tae kwon do (because he couldn’t afford to take the classes with us), Fyfe had always been slim and wiry.
The same warm, dark eyes I’d always remembered stared back at me, but otherwise, I almost didn’t recognize him. Fyfe had filled out. His jaw was now wide and strong and peppered with a short brown beard. Thick brown hair was cut and styled to perfection and so obviously soft. And broad, broad shoulders stretched out a navy silk cotton shirt that was rolled at the sleeves, revealing strong forearms. The shirt was paired with suit trousers and black dress shoes.
Fyfe Moray was a hot grown-up.
When did that happen?
And what was he doing here? I blurted out the latter.
“What am I doing here? What are you doing here?” Fyfe teased with a flash of straight, perfect white teeth.
“I’m back from school in France … but what are you doing here?” I repeated.
“Didn’t your mum tell you?”
I shook my head.
“I’ve been back for about eighteen months. Got my own cybersecurity company. We do work for the estate, the distillery, private customers …”
I couldn’t believe Mum hadn’t mentioned it. Then again, where there was Fyfe, there was Lewis, and I’d made it clear I didn’t want to hear about the latter. Impressed but in no way surprised by his success, I squeezed Fyfe’s arm and felt the hard muscle beneath. “That’s amazing. I’m so happy for you.” It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him if Lewis knew he was back in Ardnoch, but I was afraid to say his name.
“I never thought I’d return, but it kind of lures you back, right?” Fyfe said, glancing down the quaint main street of the village, with its cobbled roads and Victorian-style lampposts.
“I never intended to not return,” I reminded him. “But I didn’t think you’d come back.”
“Aye, there are some memories here I’d rather forget.” Fyfe sighed. “But some I never want to forget. Like all of us together. We had fun, didn’t we?”
“We did.” Until we didn’t. “Where are you staying now?”
“McCulloch Farm. I bought one of the houses on your aunt Allegra’s development.”
Of course. Before I left Ardnoch, my aunt Ally (she wasn’t technically my aunt, but I’d always treated her as such) and her husband, Jared, were about to break ground on a small development of contemporary eco homes on a parcel of their farmland.
“Fancy.” I knew from Aunt Ally they were only building five houses, each with a generous plot of land, and sustainably developed so they were inexpensive to run. I also knew they were worth a pretty penny. “Do you like it?”
“I do. I’d love to have you over for dinner sometime.”
“Sounds great. I can’t wait to catch up.”
“Is there room for one more?” a deep, familiar voice said at Fyfe’s back.
Fyfe whirled, revealing his old best friend and my ex.
The man I’d disappeared on two weeks ago, when I awoke to find myself in his bed. After a night of whisky-fueled sex that had blown my mind.
Lewis Adair had grown up in more ways than one and had surprised the heck out of me.
He’d also scared the utter bejesus out of me because when I saw him lying there, asleep at my side, I’d felt nothing but crushing grief. Aye, I’d given the appearance of moving on and dating other men. Yet, I’d never truly let them get close to me. And I didn’t know if it was because I’d given that part of myself to Lewis and there was no way to get it back, or if I was just afraid to try to give it to someone new in case I got hurt all over again. Because the truth was, while I’d done a valiant job of pretending like I was okay after our breakup, I felt a physical hurt in my chest every day for months.
Months and months.
Then one day, long after he’d left Ardnoch, I realized it didn’t hurt every day anymore. It only hurt sometimes. Mostly whenever someone mentioned him, or something happened to remind me of him. Moving to Paris meant I experienced that hurt less and less until eventually, I went weeks without thinking about him. And even then, it was a flicker of a shadow of a ghost of pain.