“We’re the Leth Sholas Pipe Band.” Quinn’s voice echoed around the room. “Thanks for listening.Oidhche Mhath.”
As the audience clapped their thanks, I asked Cammie, “What doesOidhcheMhathmean?” I knew I probably butchered the pronunciation.
“Good night.”
“Do you all speak Gaelic?”
Cammie shook her head. “I know bits and pieces, as does Quinn. Our parents are fluent, but I’m sad to say it is a dying language.”
I nodded and surveyed the audience, noting many a person still ogling the gorgeous Scots on stage. Quinn murmured something to Ramsay and then strode out of the pub without looking at anyone.
Cammie sucked in a breath at his abrupt departure.
Ramsay stepped down from the stage, whistled low, and Akiva shot from my side to him. The big Scot had already put his bagpipes down and lowered to his haunches to greet his dog with an abundance of affection. Now that he didn’t have a beard hiding his face, his smile … it didthingsto me.
Great.
I was only distracted from his deliciousness by Cammie’s tension. She contemplated the Lantern’s main door. Quinn had been in a horrible mood the last few days and to my surprise, Ramsay covered for me about the wall. I’d gone to the B and B the next day to apologize for my impulsive and irresponsible behavior, but Ramsay interrupted before I could take the blame. He said he hadn’t known I’d wanted to be there for the demo and had started work without everyone. I’d been grateful to him because I didn’t need my main contractor thinking he couldn’t trust me. When Quinn was out of earshot, I’d thanked Ramsay and promised him nothing like that would ever happen again.
The yeti (nownotyeti) had grunted at me and walked away, which pissed me off again.
I didn’t know what it was about him that got under my skin so much, but my feelings toward him were very confusing.
“Is Quinn okay?” I asked Cammie.
She shook her head, lips pressed together tightly. Finally, she sighed. “It did not go well with Taran.”
I’d guessed as much. “I’m sorry for Quinn.”
“I’m sorry for them all.” Cammie gave me a melancholy smile. “Come on, let’s grab a drink.”
“I’m heading out.” Murray stood too.
“You don’t want a drink?”
“No, we’re a man down for the chartered fishing guide, so I’m out on the boat tomorrow with a bunch of tourists.”
“Enjoy.” Cammie teased like she knew it was the last thing Murray wanted to do.
I knew Murray owned a large fishing company on Glenvulin. He had several fishermen, like Laird, who ran small crews, but he also ran chartered fishing guides for tourists. Salmon fishing in this part of the country was huge.
The man jerked his chin toward the bar where Ramsay and his other band member, Forde, now stood, before wandering out with a few goodbyes to locals.
“Come on. I’ll introduce you to Forde.” Cammie took my arm and guided me to the bar.
Akiva came over for a few pets before she returned to her dad’s feet. I tried to avoid Ramsay’s gaze, focusing in on Cammie’s friend. I’d seen Forde out and about because he was hard not to notice, but we’d yet to be formally introduced. Forde Dallas owned the only mechanic’s garage on Glenvulin, and he volunteered with the Leth Sholas Lifeboat Service. He not only volunteered to help maintain the lifeboats, but he went out on rescue operations too. Cammie had told me all of this with real fondness in her voice because she’d grown up with him. He was Quinn’s best friend.
Forde, like Quinn, was thirty-six years old and seemed more suited to a stadium concert stage than the Lantern. He looked like a tattooed rock star turned cologne model.
What the ever-loving fuck was in the water here?
I clamped my lips shut so I didn’t gape at the man. It wasn’t that I wasn’t used to attractive people. Growing up in the life I did, I’d met celebrities and some of the most attractive men in the world. However, finding a pipe band of them on a tiny Scottish island seemed farcical in a way. If more people knew about these men, a flood of people would move to Leth Sholas.
“Forde, this is Tierney Silver, our newest resident. Tierney, this is Forde Dallas, our resident Lothario.” She shot him a mocking smirk.
He grimaced but his dark eyes glittered warmly. “You have the references of a ninety-year-old.”
I chuckled as Cammie shoved him playfully and he laughed. Muscles, boyishly hot smile, dark hair. Perhaps an inch taller than Cammie, a bunch of tattoos that looked sort of Celtic all over his arms and even his fingers. Forde had a rough bad-boy thing going on that wasn’t really my type, even if I could admit he had a sexy-ass smile.
