“Right. Alec. Get him to tell people he’s not dead. Okay.” I waver. Dougal pointedly checks his meter. Because I am literally a people pleaser until death, that’s enough to have me unbuckle my seat belt, open the door of the car, and step out into the darkness.
As soon as I do, rain soaks immediately through my thin coat. I wobble around the car, my heels sinking into wet grass. The closer I get to the wooden cabin, the scarier it feels. The doorway is a gaping black hole. Trees throw terrifying patches of darkness over the roughly hewn planks. Shadows pool at its base.
God, I can’tstayhere. This isn’t an Airbnb. It looks like something out of a true crime documentary. But what can I do? Get back into the taxi and ask to be driven…where exactly?
“It’s okay,” I mumble to myself. “You won’t die in the scary murder cabin.”
There’s the sudden crack of a twig snapping behind me. “Not good enough for ye, princess?” a deep Scottish accent rumbles. I yelp, spinning around.
A giant is standing behind me, holding a lantern.
Seriously. I have never seen a man so huge. He’s a mountain wearing a plaid shirt. I do a double take at his broad shoulders and massive biceps. When he lifts the lantern higher, the gold light illuminates his face, and something electric prickles through my belly.
Oh.
This man is wild-looking. Messy brown hair jammed under a beanie. A rough, stubbled face. A scar cuts down one of his cheeks. Green eyes run over me, and I shiver like I’ve been touched. “You’re Cameron?” I manage. “Hi!”
He grunts, clearly annoyed. “You’re late.”
TWO
CAMERON
“Ohmygosh!” the strange girl says, somehow making it all one word. “I am so sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to be waiting for me!”
“How else would you find the place?” I mutter. I can’t see much of her, but in the dim light of the car’s headlights, I can make out a few details. She has long blonde hair. And she’s dressed, to put it simply, ridiculously. A short coat that’s doing nothing to keep her warm, a huge handbag, and heels.
Who wearsheelsup here?
“Yes,” she says brightly. She has an English accent. London, I’d guess. Doubt anyone but a city girl would come to the Highlands dressed like that. “You have no streetlights here, it’s, er, kind of scary!”
My scowl deepens.
I wasn’t happy when I got the notification that the guest cabin had been booked. I’d been checking in on the lambs. Had to drop everything I was doing to tart the place up. I hate leaving a job half finished, but we always accept last-minute Airbnb requests. Usually means that a hiker has been caught out by bad weather. Don’t want to leave someone stranded. It’s dangerous during the stormy season.
So I came out and folded towels and filled the fridge. And then I waited. And waited. Until finally the wee princess arrives, half an hour late, and immediately insults the place.
I’ll admit, the cabin’s not much, just a spare hut by the main farmhouse with a bed and a bathroom. But what was she expecting? A luxury resort?
“It’s nice to meet you,” the girl says. “I’m Summer!”
“I know,” I say, setting down the lantern as the driver rolls down his window. I nod at him. “Dougal.”
“Cameron!” The old man beams at me. “How’s things? Alec alive?”
“He was an hour ago.” Before he can start small talking me, I limp over to the back of the taxi, my aching leg dragging slightly in the mud. I yank open the boot and stare at the massive pink suitcase inside. It’s literally bigger than Summer. “You…booked in for a night, right?”
“Yes!” she says cheerfully, like she sees nothing wrong with the amount of luggage she’s brought.
I heft it out.
“Oh, wait, let me help—” she says, stepping closer.
I ignore her, slamming the boot shut. “Follow me.” I carry her case up the dirt path towards the guest cabin and dump it on the porch. I wait for her to join me, but she doesn’t.
“Oh. Er, sorry, but…I’m sinking?”
I turn back. Summer is still on the road by Dougal’s idling taxi. As I watch, she tries to take a step and wobbles. Her pink heels sink into the rain-soaked mud. Irritation ripples through me.
