ALEC
The flight back to Inverness only takes ninety minutes. I spend the entire time wishing it were longer.
We sit in the front row of the plane—Fraser and I on one side of the aisle, and Summer and Cameron on the other. Summer’s next to the window, and I watch the slanting dawn rays light her hair in gold as the plane tilts through the clouds. She spends most of the flight working on her laptop, cooking up her social media plan to save Lochview.
Although part of me thinks she’s working so hard so she doesn’t have to talk to us.
She clearly doesn’t know how to interact with us anymore. When we were waiting at the airport, a woman with a buggy almost ran into us, and Fraser automatically pulled Summer aside so she could pass. Summer went bright pink and ducked out from under his arm. Fraser looked like he’d been slapped.
We’ve lost the right to touch her. And it’s all my fault. If Summer does forgive us, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to her. But how do you make up for hurting someone so badly?
Eventually, Summer is asked to put her laptop away because of turbulence. The tiredness catches up with her, and she falls asleep on Cameron’s shoulder.
Fraser is furious. He leans across the aisle, stage-whispering threats to Cameron so he doesn’t wake her up.
You lucky bastard.
You don’t deserve this.
I’m the one who should be sitting next to her.
Cameron completely ignores him, just settles Summer more comfortably on his shoulder and brushes some hair out of her face. When she cuddles closer to him in her sleep, he very lightly lays his cheek on her hair.
I grip my armrests tighter and listen to Fraser fume.
I don’t blame him. I’m so jealous I could die.
When we land, we pick up the truck and drive back to Lochview in near silence. Summer is sitting primly in the back seat next to Fraser, watching the green hills roll past with a wistful expression. I tighten my grip on the wheel. I don’t have the right to talk to her, but I can’t help myself.
“How have you been this past week?” I ask.
Summer glances at me in the rearview. For a second, I think she won’t answer. Eventually, she gives a little shrug. “Really unhappy, to be honest.”
It feels like my ribs are cracking. “Because of me.”
“I’m a bit heartbroken,” she admits. “But it’s not just that. I’m not really sure what to do now. Influencing doesn’t feel good anymore. Yeah, people like me again…but it all feels very fake.”
Stay here, I want to tell her.Be with us.“Whatever you decide to do will be right,” I force out.
She looks out of the window.
It’s past noon when we finally pull up at Lochview. As I put the truck in park, I wonder if I’m hallucinating.
The farm is bustling with people. Before we left, I called Isla and asked her to call a couple of friends to keep an eye on the animals, but it looks like she did more than that. I watch, stunned, as a group of teenagers from the village stack replacement planks by the side of the ruined lambing barn. Two local kids run past the car, throwing a ball for Scout. A group of elderly women are watering the flowers in front of the house and eating my biscuits. There have to be fifty people milling about.
“Oh, you finally got help,” Summer says, clicking off her seat belt and opening her door.
“Wait,” Cameron commands, crossing to her side of the truck. He wraps an arm around her waist, lifts her over a muddy patch, and settles her gently down on the grass. “There’s mud,” he mutters. “Watch your shoes.”
Summer smiles at him and slips right out of her pumps, wriggling her toes in the grass. The wave of possessiveness that hits me is so strong it knocks the air out of me.
Yes. This is how I want her. Happy, standing on my land, her bare feet in my grass.
“I’m away to check on the mamas,” Fraser mutters, heaving a case out of the boot. He was quieter than usual on the car ride. I think he’s upset.
“Alec!” I turn to see Isla jogging up to us. Her hair is scraped up in a ponytail strung through with straw. “You’re back. And you brought city girl with you.”
“Isla, hi!” Summer pulls Isla into a hug.
