Fraser grins at me. “Fancy a quick tour of the farm before I get started for the morning?”
“Really?”
“Aye, c’mon.” He offers me a hand. “Right this way.”
SEVEN
FRASER
“So that’s mostly it,” I say, leading Summer out of our small orchard. I’ve already shown her the main features in the centre of the farm—the chicken coops, the veg patches, and the barn housing our dairy cow. I cross my arms, looking out over the landscape. The emerald-green hills of the Highlands stretch up around us, wreathed in clouds.
No matter how long I live here, I’ll never really get over the view.
“Land spans about a hundred and fifty acres.” I wave over our fields. “Alec owns everything from this side of the forest to Loch Thara. Gives the sheep plenty of space to graze.” I point at a cluster of grey houses in the distance. “Nearest village is Dalbrae. It’s where Cameron, Alec and I grew up and went to school.”
“Dalbrae,” she repeats seriously, as if I’m going to quiz her later. “And—oh myGod!” Some ducks waddle by with their babies, and she pulls her phone out and starts taking pictures of them. The wind whips her blonde hair around her face, and my fingers itch to tuck it back.
She really is too damn pretty. Everything about her. Her wee purple shoes. Her pretty pink leggings. The heart-shapedearrings sparkling in her earlobes. Even her nails match her outfit. She looks like a damn pastel dessert. It’s adorable.
I have to admit that it was averypleasant surprise to walk in on her this morning. I think back to how I found her—rumpled and just in a shirt. Full hips. Creamy thighs. The peep of pink lace between her legs.
Lovely.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman. We’re pretty isolated up here, but we head down to the city every so often to make deliveries, and I sometimes stop by a bar and find someone to stay overnight with. But lately, I don’t care enough to. Things at Lochview have been feeling pretty crappy the last couple of years. Alec’s always stressed, and Cameron is always mad at him. The tension between them has leached into the place, making it dark and grey. And now Summer’s breezed in like a ray of sunshine. This morning, things feel…different. More alive.
Even if Summer is clearly lying about why she’s here. Travel blogger, my behind.
“Gotta admit,” I say leadingly as we start trudging back up the hill, “I never heard of someone coming up to the Highlands and not packing to be outdoors. You not a nature person?”
She wobbles over a bit of grass, and I reach out to steady her. Her cheeks go pink. “I don’t know. I work a lot, so I don’t really have the time.” She rubs her eye, and I suddenly see a crack in her sunny personality. For just a second, she looks very, very tired.
I nod sagely. “Aye. Right. Hard being a travel blogger, I suppose.”
“Yes,” she says firmly, and the moment of weakness is gone. “It totally is.”
God, she’s a terrible liar. “Well, feel free to take some pics for your blog while you’re here.”
She perks up. “Really? That’ll besohelpful.”
“Nae bother. Hey, what’s your blog called? I’d love to look it up.”
She freezes. “Oh. Er.” She twists her hands together. “I’d rather you didn’t, if that’s okay.”
“Oh. Why not?”
“Just… Er… I’m too shy,” she blurts out and quickly looks away. “Anyway. Um. You’re a sheep farm. Do you raise them for meat?”
“No, no. Lochview is a fibre farm. We sell sheep wool and cashmere and a wee bit of produce to the local villages, but the animals aren’t for eatin’.” Alec’s far too soft-hearted for that. Summer nods, crossing her arms over her chest. “You cold?”
“No, I’m fine.” She gives me a bright, sparkly smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. Then she shivers.
Terribleliar.
“Here.” I unwind the scarf around my neck. Summer goes still as I wrap her up in it. My fingertips graze the soft curve of her throat, and I can feel her pulse pounding under the sensitive skin.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
I suddenly want to pull her into my arms to keep her warm. I want to buy her a proper coat. I want to know why she’s really here.
