“What?” Carianne and I asked in confusion.
Instead of answering, Fyfe strode from the room and down the steps that led to his front entrance.
“Is there someone else coming?” I asked Carianne.
She shrugged. “Not that I was aware of.”
A male voice met Fyfe’s and I stiffened in my chair. My pulse sped up as realization hit.
After Lewis showed up outside the bakery yesterday afternoon to announce his return, I’d fled.
Aye. Like a coward, I’d hurried back into the bakery and refused to leave until I was certain he was gone. Fyfe had called me last night to apologize for not warning me of Lewis’s return and to invite me to breakfast to make up for it.
I wasn’t mad at Fyfe. I hadn’t even known he was back in Ardnoch, let alone expect him to update me on Lewis’s comings and goings.
But I was mad at Lewis for not giving me any warning.
Why was he back?
Disturbing my peace and blissful denial!
And now he was here … again.
Fyfe gave me an apologetic smile as he led Lewis into the open-plan living room. “Take a seat, Lew. I’ll plate you up some breakfast.”
“Thanks, smells great.” Lewis zoomed in on me. “Morning, Callie.”
“Lewis!” Carianne jumped from her chair and crossed the room to throw her arms around him. Her head barely reached his shoulders.
Lewis grinned and returned her embrace. “Hi, Carianne.”
“Oh my God.” Carianne pulled back to stare up at him. “Look at you all MC hot.”
“What?” He chuckled.
“Motorcycle Club. I heard you’re riding around the village on a Harley looking like a proper biker with all these tattoos.” She slapped his biceps where said tattoos were. “I gotta tell you, you’re looking good, Adair.”
I tried not to scowl at the flirtatious note in her voice and decided she was merely being funny with an old friend.
Lewis’s attention turned to me. “How are you?”
Carianne stepped away from him, her expression falling. I tried not to overanalyze that as I shrugged at my ex. “Iwasfine.”
His lips pinched together at the implication I was no longer fine. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Of course she doesn’t.” Carianne gently shoved him toward a seat. “It’s been seven years and she’s shagged half of Paris. I think she’s over it.”
What the actual hell? “Carianne!”
She blanched at my expression. “Oh, Callie, it was a joke. Everyone knows that was a joke, right?”
Lewis folded his large body into the chair but didn’t look at anyone while Fyfe brought over plates for his friend and himself.
“Aren’t jokes supposed to be funny?” Fyfe gently chided Carianne as he took his seat.
“You’re right.” Carianne gave me an apologetic, pleading look. “I’m sorry, Callie.”
“It’s fine.” Embarrassed and now wondering if that’s what everyone was saying behind my back (that I was sleeping myway around France!), I felt my appetite dissipate. If I did want to shag half of Paris, that was my prerogative, but I hated the idea of people gossiping about me,shamingme.
