‘A bit overwhelming,’ I admitted. ‘But ultimately well-meaning?’
Callum didn’t look convinced. His smile disappeared, replaced by a frown that stole all the light from his eyes, the easy vibes in the room vanishing with it.
‘A neurosurgeon,’ he said in a rapidly thickening voice. ‘Your mum and dad must be really proud of you.’
‘I suppose so. We don’t really talk about it,’ I replied quietly. ‘Why, you don’t think yours are proud of you?’
A pause.
‘I know they aren’t.’
‘They seemed awfully keen to have you home for Christmas.’
‘Aye, where they can keep an eye on me,’ he replied. ‘My parents won’t be happy until I get married, knock out a couple of grandkids and move back to Braewick.’
‘The most magnificent place on God’s green earth,’ I snapped my fingers and shot him with a finger gun and a wry smile. ‘I totally remember, babe.’
He almost smiled back. ‘Aye, Dad was right about one thing, it is beautiful. Scottish Highlands, about an hour north of Inverness. It’s also the arse end of nowhere. More sheep than people.’
‘Not many opportunities for a pastry chef,’ I guessed. ‘So, what happened exactly? You invented a girlfriend to get them off your back?’
‘That’s the short version.’
‘And the long version?’ When he gave me an uncertain look, I shrugged and leaned against the wall. ‘Go on, I’ve got nowhere better to be.’
‘Fine.’ Callum took a deep breath in and settled onto his sofa. ‘I suppose I owe you an explanation.’
‘At least as to how you chose her job. Massage therapist? Really?’
Pulling at a loose thread on the cuff of his sweatshirt, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, looking as though he couldn’t believe he’d got himself into such a mess.
‘I was on my way for a massage, on the phone with Mum when she asked what Caroline did for a living.’ He held up his hands to acknowledge the lack of creativity. ‘There was no nefarious plan or anything, mostly I didn’t want to hurt their feelings. They never understand why I can’t cancel work stuff to go back and visitat the drop of a hat, but when I said I was seeing someone, they seemed more understanding.’
‘Your job keeps you away from Braewick but a girlfriend gets them one step closer to grandkids,’ I reasoned. ‘Emotional mathematics, the equations don’t always make sense but there’s usually a pattern.’
‘And that’s why you’re the brain surgeon and I’m not. You’re a genius.’
I waved a hand to reject the notion but I wasn’t exactly mad about it. The pieces of a very confusing puzzle started to slot into place. Annoying parents, fake girlfriend, easy answer.
‘But why tell them I’m Caroline instead of explaining I’m renting the flat from you?’ I asked.
‘Because I’m an idiot?’
It was hard to argue against it.
‘They assumed, I panicked,’ he said with an apologetic glance in my direction. ‘Sorry I dragged you into it.’
‘Don’t be, it’s not your fault. Like you said, you’re an idiot.’
We smiled at each other, Callum wringing his hands while I squeezed the earbuds in my pocket.
‘What are you going to do now?’ I asked. ‘They’re expecting both of us.’
His reply was a long, low groan that sent an unexpected shiver running all the way down my spine and I had to bite my lip to stop it from ricocheting all the way back up again.
‘I don’t know,’ he admitted, combing a hand through his hair, breaking up the waves from the back to the front. ‘I’m not desperate to be alone on Christmas but if I show up in Braewick without you after they’ve bought both our train tickets? Nightmare material.’
‘Then call them right now!’ I ordered, pointing at the phone he produced from the pocket of his jeans. ‘Tell them not to buy me a ticket!’
