I press back against the wall inside the kitchen and inhale through my nose, attempting to replace his scent with the smells of braising meat and rising dough. When I blink open my eyes, I see my entire kitchen staff, plus Angus, watching me with looks of confusion on their faces.
“Uh, hi, lads,” I splutter, trying to compose myself and failing miserably.
“You alright, Avonlea?” Angus asks, narrowing his eyes in my direction before they flit to the door. Can he sense the shift that just occurred between me and his grandson?
“Aye, yes. All good. Just, uh, need a minute. Be right back.” I scurry out of the kitchen, flying up the stairs two at a time until I reach my bedroom.
Flopping onto the bed, I mutter to myself, “Stupid, Avonlea. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
What was I thinking?
That’s right… I wasn’t.
I just need to tell Jamie. Get this over with. Rid myself of this feeling of being crushed beneath a boulder of lies and deceit.
I walk into the bathroom and throw some water on my face, hoping to cool the mortification over what just happened—bothwith Jamie and in the kitchen. I can’t let this affect my job. I don’t just need it. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.
Water droplets drip down my face and onto the sink top. My pupils are still dilated and my skin is pink and warm.
“Get it together, Avi,” I whisper to my reflection.
I need a plan to tell Jamie so I can stop living in fear. I’m moving into the cottage tomorrow and then visiting Lennox in Glasgow at the end of next week. After that, there’s only a few weeks before he’s here full time.
Jamie needs to have time to process before that.
I blow out a breath and swipe a towel across my face before redoing my top knot.
After I get back from Glasgow, I’ll tell him. Then we’ll figure it out from there.
With a semblance of normalcy and feeling moderately put back together, I’m ready to get back to my day.
This will all be fine.
This is the furthest thing from fine.
I should be on my way to Glasgow right now to see Lennox and my parents, but instead I’m pacing the front porch of my little cottage awaitingtheirarrival.
They’re coming here. To Skye. And I still haven’t told Jamie.
Bloody hell, what am I going to do?
I walk back into the house to make sure everything is in order. Again.
I moved in on Saturday and have spent every free moment of this week making it into a home. Which made avoiding Jamie a little easier too. A necessity after that kiss last Friday, because whenever we’re in the same room, my body screams that it wants to do it again. Avoidance is better, so I’ve been focused on preparing for when Lennox would be here—in a month. Not today.
I was supposed to go seehimthis weekend. We had plans for just the two of us. Plans with my parents. Plans on plans. And now they’ve all changed because they’re coming here, eviscerating any hope I had of telling Jamie about Lennox before he inevitably sees him.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
Although, my concern over the Jamie-Lennox situation is secondary to the fact that my son got into a fight at school this morning and was suspended. Thus the reason for this lovely change of plans.
My sweet, would-never-hurt-a-fly boy hit someone today. And I wasn’t there to pick him up. To talk to the principal. To the parents of the other boy. I wasn’t there. Because I was here, and I’ve had a delightful six hours to wallow in the mum-guilt of it all.
Six hours since my mum called to tell me what happened and that she thought Lennox needed to get out of Glasgow for the week.The week. Because he’s suspended until next Friday.
So, instead of me driving to them, they’re on their way here, and I want nothing more than to hug my kid and comfort him and get to the bottom of whatever is going on at school.Butthere is still thefact that Jamie is right down the road at the Thistle & Tartan, and Lennox is… here.
The rumble of tires over the gravel has me running for the door, ready to get my arms around my favorite person. But the warm and excited welcome my mama heart wants doesn’t come. Instead, when the back door of Mum’s car swings open and Lennox steps out, I’m greeted by a sullen-faced boy with a shiner blooming around his left eye.
