‘Aye... You’re sick, now’s not the time.’
‘Is there a time? It’s in the past.’
Niall’s jaw tightened. Only a fraction but Carli noticed. Buried deep in her now awakening sense reflexes was an understanding of his facial expressions and instinctively she sensed he was holding back.
Did Niall want to bring the past into the present?
Carli chewed on her toast and followed Niall’s eyeline as he looked at his socks. His feet were a bit bigger, but thankfully she had a mouthful of toast and wouldn’t blurt out an inappropriate comment about this.
‘So, you live in Australia now?’ she ventured instead.
He returned his gaze to her and scratched his ear. ‘Um, aye. Went out to pick olives and ended up meeting this great guy and we set up a surf school together. He sponsored me to stay in the country and I’ve been there ever since, teaching wee rascals to surf.’
‘That’s awesome.’
‘Aye, you talked so highly of the place, I had to check it out.’
As soon as he said it, Carli saw that Niall wanted to swallow back those words. Because they came with the implicit knowledge that he’d travelled to Australia and not looked her up. Australia was good enough for him, but she was not. Not even for a coffee to explain.
‘And that’s you in Oz for life, then?’ she asked.
‘Aye, maybe. Things are up in the air at the moment. I’m in line for citizenship but things are heavy here with Dad being ill and stuff.’
‘Of course.’ This was full-on. Carli empathised with Niall. He’d always been so keen to win his dad’s approval. She remembered him showing Jimmy a school project that he’d done on the whisky industry in the hope his dad would be impressed. And when he was, Niall’s face had lit up like Hogmanay fireworks. Her teenage boyfriend had been a lot of things – impetuous, a back chatter, a lost dreamer at times – but the one thing he’d wanted was for his dad to be proud of him like he was of his brothers. And the main thing he didn’t want was to be like his biological father. Thatpossibility had haunted Niall as a teenager. Every detention, every reprimand, every mistake he made leading him closer to the belief that he was Archie Butler – alcoholic, abuser, arsonist.
‘Yeah, I’m sorry about your dad’s illness. Really sorry.’
‘Thanks.’ Niall pressed his lips together and the tension cut through his jaw. Wanting to make it better, she picked up the can from the bedside table.
‘You reckon they’ll give you Aussie citizenship when you drink this Scottish filth? It’s veryun-Australian.’ Carli lifted the can and took a sip, her vision fixed on him.
Niall’s brows rose in a way that was far too sexy for this occasion. ‘Says the Aussie drinking it.’
She shrugged. ‘I’ve got two passports so I can be a wee bit Scottish from time to time. I was born here after all.’
Stretching his long legs under her bed, Niall said, ‘Aye, you’re back in the homeland now… Do you feel a connection to this place?’
‘Of course. Because of Mum. She’s the reason I’m on this trip. It’s her sixtieth birthday, and it might sound silly, but I don’t want her to be alone.’
‘That not silly at all.’
This was getting heavy. Carli took another sip from the can, a small one because caffeine wasn’t a great idea. ‘Mmm,’ she said. ‘Good Scottish filth.’
‘Should you be drinking caffeinated filth if you’re going to sleep?’ Niall raised a salient point whilst reaching for the drink. She remembered the touch of that, now assuredly large, hand in her own like it was yesterday. The heat of it fleeting across her body, inside her.My God!She let him take the drink and the tips of his fingers glanced over hers, for merely a moment but enough to experience a distant spark fighting to reignite. She watched as he liftedthe can and tipped his head back, his Adam’s apple pulsing. Why the hell was this so intimate? How could she be sitting here in her silly pyjamas, with hair you could fry an egg in, flirting with this guy by sharing a can of soft drink? How?
And when Niall swallowed back thefilth, put the can into his lap, smiled and said, ‘You might not feel the same way, but it’s good to see you, Cass. Really good,’ Carli had to remind herself of his words.
I don’t know what our love is anymore. If it’s even love.
Chapter 7
Niall
Two days later, Niall stood in the large drawing room of the Butler home remarking how ancient and otherworldly it seemed compared to his modern home in Sydney, the ceiling so high that standing on one of his brothers’ shoulders to reach it, Niall would still be comfortable in terms of space. The intricate cornicing reminded anyone who cared to stop and consider for a moment that this building had stood here longer than anyone in this room had been alive. And there were a few people in this room who’d been alive for a long time.
His mum being his mum, rather than hiring a fancy catering company, had made all the food herself with a little help from whoever else had been around, and was paying some local students generously to serve alcohol and canapés. The room glittered with sparkling stitching and champagne coupes.
‘You’re looking dashing in your kilt there, young man.’
