When I go back into the kitchen, I find Cameron slapping together a sandwich. He glances at me over his shoulder.
“She needs to eat. She had nothing on the plane.” I nod and make to head outside. “Thank you,” he says to my back.
I wheel around, unable to believe my ears. “Thank you?” I repeat. “You’re thanking me?”
“Aye.”
“I screwed everything up.”
His eyes are steady. “Aye. But you finally listened to me. And I know it went against everything you’ve known your whole life, so…” He shrugs. “Thanks.” He turns back to his sandwich.
I watch as he leans against the counter, taking the weight off his leg. It usually hurts him after plane rides. I cross over to the medicine cabinet without thinking. “Do you want—” I catch myself. “Do…you mind if I offer you some painkillers?”
I honestly don’t know. Fraser is always offering Cameron painkillers or ice packs or a hand up when Cameron is in pain, and Cameron doesn’t seem to mind. But he clearly does with me.
Cameron rolls his eyes. “Christ. Aye, you can offer me paracetamol, if you can manage to do it without looking at me like I’m Tiny Tim.” I toss him the packet, and he swallows a couple of pills dry. “Thanks.” He puts the sandwich on a plate. “Come on.”
We find Summer in the grass outside, pointing across the landscape as she explains something to Isla and Fraser.
“Here.” Cameron gives her the plate. “Eat your piece.”
“Thank you!” She takes a bite and chews. “Okay, here’s the plan. Social media success is really all about selling a story. Your story is easy—three hot, hardworking farmers struggling to save their business from greedy property developers.”
Isla snorts. “Hot?”
“Yes,” Summer says, “and their hotness will come in very handy. You three are going to be the face of the farm.” She glances up at Cameron. “Or…maybe not you? Fraser said you quit.”
“You don’t have to do it,” I tell Cameron quickly. “This is my responsibility.”
Cameron rolls his eyes. “’Course I’ll take the pictures,” he mutters. Fraser whoops.
“Perfect,” Summer says, all business. “No more photos of buildings or hills. We need action shots. I want to see younursing baby lambs. Chopping logs. Cuddling sheep.” She takes another bite, her face thoughtful. “Now, this isn’t a requirement, but if any of youarewilling to take your shirts off, I can guarantee that we will get double the engagement.”
Somehow, Fraser is already half naked before she’s finished the sentence. “Like this?” He drops to the floor and starts doing press-ups.
She nods and points at him. “Yes. Exactly. This will work. And…” She looks up at me. A light breeze strokes her hair in front of her face, and my fingers ache with the urge to push it back. “Fraser said you guys have kilts?”
I’m not sure where this is going. “Aye.”
She takes another bite of her sandwich, eyes twinkling. “I think now’s the time, boys.”
SEVENTY-SEVEN
SUMMER
It’s past midnight when I finally finish work for the day. The rest of the village helpers trickled out hours ago with promises that they’d be back tomorrow. I barely noticed. I’ve been sitting at the kitchen table with my focus locked in all evening, working on Lochview’s social media accounts.
The pictures we got were amazing. I have shots of Cameron shirtless and sweating as he splits logs. Several of Fraser, a sheep under each arm, kilt billowing in the wind. A bunch of Alec bottle-feeding Crumpet. I’ve been posting the pictures from Lochview’s account and sharing them to my own to get more eyes on them. And it’s working.
I bite my lip as I study the final picture I’m scheduling tonight. It’s of all three men, dressed in kilts and shirts, crouched around Viola in the lambing barn. Fraser and Alec are both focused on the sheep, but Cameron is looking behind the camera, his eyes dark with longing.
My cheeks warm. He was looking at me. He barely took his eyes off me all afternoon. It was…distracting.
I force myself to concentrate, rereading the caption I’ve typed up.
Meet Alec, Fraser, and Cameron, three shepherds who live and work at one of the oldest farms in Scotland. The local council is trying to take over their land and develop on their property. Help save Lochview Farm (and the cute sheep who live there) by sharing this post or filling out the survey in our bio. #SaveLochview #SheepDaddies
Lulu suggested that last hashtag. Apparently, it’s working wonders. I hitscheduleon the post, shut my laptop, and stretch luxuriously.
