‘That’s important,’ said Cal, knowingly. He lifted Bea’s compact but well-filled overnight bag, seemingly oblivious to its weight or Bea’s concern over her accommodation. And for that she liked him that little bit more.
Half an hour later and they were coasting out ofEdinburgh, over the gleaming Firth of Forth and into Fife from where Cal said they’d head into Perthshire then west to embark on his mystery itinerary. All he’d said was to pack for the same weather as Edinburgh – temperate yet sunny – but with a bathing suit, although he’d also said that was optional if Bea was comfortable naked, and she’d tingled with anticipation. She was more than comfortable naked with Cal.
They stopped for lunch at a little farmhouse café – Cal said he’d earmarked it especially for her – where they dined on wholesome farmhouse broth with soft bread and Scottish butter followed by steaming rich coffee and a luscious chocolate brownie. It was all so comforting and homely and Bea reflected how thoughtful it was of him to bring her here. She also reflected that if he was going to continue to be this nice to her, she would have trouble keeping her feelings in check.
‘Are you having a good time so far?’ Cal drained the last of his coffee. ‘Think you’ve seen anything that you can put into your writing?’
‘I’m having the best time ever.’ Bea resisted the powerful urge to reach for his hand. That was something a girlfriend would do. ‘I’ve seen so many things this morning that I can write about. Thank you for continuing to show me Scotland.’
‘My pleasure. I want you to love it as much as I do.’ He held Bea’s gaze a fragment longer than usual before interrupting his own contemplation. ‘I’ll get the bill and we can head off.’
‘Oh, let me.’ Bea reached for her purse. ‘It’s the least I can do to thank you for showing me this place even exists.’
‘No, my treat.’ Cal’s tone was non-negotiable, and he left the table before she had a chance to argue.
Bea bit into her lip and looked around at all the other patrons. To debate now would cause a scene. She would have to ensure that she paid for the next meal, and that he took the money she’d set aside for accommodation and gas. Having him pay for everything was not something she was okay with, irrespective of whether they were in a relationship or not. Bea never wanted to be accused of freeloading again.
They drove on through the Scottish countryside, zipping past fields dotted with cows, small stone farm-steadings, an endless curtain of foliage in shades of russet, gold and crimson dancing in the breeze. During a break in the trees, Bea gasped at the snow-capped peaks surging out of the landscape beyond. She had wondered if coming to Scotland at the tail end of summer was injudicious, but today in the warm apricot sunshine it felt like the best choice ever. And, even if the whole of Scotland was drenched in rain, nothing could erase the magnificence of the scenery on offer, including the man in the seat next to her.
Chapter 42
Cal
‘Welcome to Glen Tummel Lodges, Mr and Mrs Butler.’ The receptionist almost sang her greeting.
Cal suppressed a slight smile at this error but held back on correcting the woman. Wondering if Bea minded being assumed his wife, he turned and saw amusement glimmering at the edges of her perfectly pink lips. Clearly not. And had he imagined it, or did she slide her left hand behind her hips?
Mr and Mrs Butler it was.
The receptionist clocked Cal and Bea’s shared look and adopted a little ‘Isn’t wedded bliss adorable?’ expression which she held whilst clacking at the keyboard and entering Cal’s card details to complete the booking. Cal was sure he sensed Bea stiffen at the sight of his credit card, but he suspected she wouldn’t bring it up if trying to give the illusion of being married. And that was fine with him. Bea was of a different mettle to Elisabetta and the other women he’d been intimate with, and her offering to pay for her lunch today had cemented that idea in his mind.
The accommodation turned out to be as Cal had hoped. Only a few footsteps from the loch’s edge, separated by a small shingled beach, sat their lodge – a hot tub on the fenced deck overlooked the deep blue of the water. Inside was perfect, too: two spacious bedrooms with huge king-sized beds, an enormous bathroom with double monsoon shower and ample windows with copious natural light streaming in and affording views out to the cobalt loch and mountains beyond. The entire place smelt of wood and mountain air. And a complimentary bottle of vintage champagne and artisan chocolates sat on the dining table. Cal hoped Bea was as enamoured as he was.
It seemed they were on the same page.
‘Oh, Cal, this is perfection.’ Bea was spinning slowly and soaking in her surroundings as if she were a character in a fairy tale. She floated around the lounge, skimming her fingers over the surfaces before drifting into the main bedroom and bouncing on the bed next to where he’d put her bag. His own was in the other room: even if they were to share a bed, Cal thought that Bea might like some space to get changed and dressed in private. ‘But I can’t let you pay for this.’ She stroked the lambswool blanket folded across the foot of the smooth cotton bedspread. ‘It’s too much.’
‘Och away, woman.’ Cal stood in the doorway drinking her in and thinking how luminous she looked in jeans, a light sweater and understated make-up. ‘It’s nothing.’
‘It might be nothing to you, but it’s not nothing to me.’
Bea was talking about money, but Cal let his mind flirt with the alternative meaning to that comment. This was feeling less like the nothing they both protested it was as each day passed. Of course, he wasn’t about to admit that to Bea, not when she was here for a bit of fun before she went back to the States.
‘Bea, I know you are fiercely independent, but would you please accept this as a gift from me?’
Bea sighed. ‘I know you can afford this, Cal. I know how hard you work, but you don’t have to prove anything to me.’
‘I’m not trying to prove anything. I just want you to appreciate Scotland. This loch is one amazing part, but I don’t expect you to pay for my choices.’
‘Maybe you could have given me the choice?’ Bea poured herself a glass of water from a bottle on the dresser.
‘Of all the lochs? There’s about thirty thousand to choose from…’
‘Don’t patronise me, Cal. You know what I mean.’
‘I know. I’m sorry. I’m being flippant. But, Bea, I am more than happy to pay. I want to treat you, is that so wrong?’Jeez, that was something a boyfriend would say.‘Think of it as an employer reward,’ Cal added, putting the thoughts ‘employer’ and ‘treat’ together in his head and coming up with nine. ‘For being my best bartender, ever.’
Bea hit Cal with a stony expression he couldn’t read, her sapphire eyes dark. This was hard work, exactly the sort of hard work he hadn’t wanted. Maybe they should pack up and go back to Edinburgh. Tell the receptionist that the marriage wasn’t working out.
