‘Catch you downstairs after, Cass.’ Niall turned away and strolled towards his room. ‘Unless you want help shampooing your hair. Just friendly, like.’ He turned and walked backwards, slowly, eyeing her with that knowing glint that made her insides cartwheel.
She managed to tip her head to the side, a question mark to his flirting.
‘What? Friends shampoo each other’s hair, don’t they?’ A glimmer of a cheeky smile was playing at the corner of Niall’s lips as he stopped outside his room. How was he so damned cute and sexy and funny all at once? Damn him for being all those things but entirely unreliable. No way would she fall back into the arms of the man who one month claimed she was the love of his life and the next said oops, my bad, I don’t love you after all. Even if it was seventeen years ago and he’d done a whole lot of growing up since then.
‘Sometimes,’ she said. ‘But not on…’ What day was today? Jeez, her internal calendar was all messed up because of the travel.
‘Sundays?’ Niall finished the maths her brain was struggling with. ‘Not on Sundays. Okay, maybe tomorrow. By the way, the en-suite in there has crap pressure, so use the main bathroom like I did.’ And he turned to the bedroomdoor, leaving Carli with only the sight of the perfectly intricate swell of muscles across his back to torment herself with. Well, this might be quite an interesting shower, even without him in there.
‘I’m insanely jealous of your trip, by the way,’ said Eilidh as they all sat round the large oak table to eat the giant fry-up Sean and Niall had prepared for lunch. ‘I wish I could go on the Harry Potter train. What’s it called again?’
‘Officially, The Royal Scotsman,’ said Carli, ‘but I’m sure its informal name is the Harry Potter train. It definitely goes over the bridge from the movie.’
‘We could always come and stand under there and wave to you as it goes over,’ said Cara. ‘Like poor wastrels that aren’t allowed on the posh train.’
‘It’s definitely not cheap,’ said Carli, who had paid for the trip from her paternal grandmother’s inheritance. ‘But it looks like something out of a dream. Men in kilts serving you dinner and bringing a nightcap to your private cabin. Or maybe I imagined that last bit. Still, there are definitely men in kilts, and when it stops in Edinburgh, we can meet for coffee or drinks.’
‘Sounds brilliant,’ said Eilidh. ‘Even better if you invite us in to meet those hot men in kilts.’
‘Do you like a man in a kilt?’ Carli thought Scottish women might be indifferent to men in the national dress.
‘Hell yeah!’ Eilidh exclaimed. ‘I love them!’
‘Me too,’ said Cara. ‘I’m a goner for a man in a tartan skirt.’
‘Feeling objectified much?’ Sean asked Niall as he shovelled a hash brown intohis mouth.
Niall shrugged. ‘Absolutely not. On the contrary.’ He winked across the table at Carli.
‘I saw that!’ cried Cara.
‘Well done. You don’t need glasses then.’ Niall winked even harder at his younger sister.
‘You guys should get a room or something,’ said Cara. ‘Or you should get a room on your own, Niall, where you can sit and think about how weird you are.’
‘Is this a room you’ve spent time in yourself?’ Niall asked his sister, a smile tugging at his lips.
‘Might be.’ Cara popped a cherry tomato in her mouth and bit down on it before yelping. ‘Aarrgh, fuck!’ followed by some indecipherable noises.
‘Sorry what?’ Niall asked, clearly with no intention of helping his sister.
‘Are you okay?’ Carli checked in on Cara.
‘Why is this tomato so fucking hot?’ Cara fanned her whole face.
Niall and Sean were laughing hard. ‘Have you never had a cooked tomato Cara?’ said Sean. ‘That’s what happens. They get hot.’
‘Gosh! That’s news to me,’ said Cara. ‘I always get my personal chef to cook my tomatoes to an ambient temperature, so I don’t try to eat something hotter than the sun.’ Cara had been an actress in a popular Scottish soap opera before landing a role in a Hollywood film. Her star was on the up.
Niall’s jaw dropped open. ‘Really?’
‘No, you numptie, of course I don’t.’
By this point, Carli was laughing hard at the banter between the siblings, their energy and love was so contagious.
‘Anyway,’ said Sean, ‘where else are you going on your wee trip besides the train with men in kilts?’
‘I’ll start with some camping down by Loch Lachnashin.’ This was where Carli’s mother’s ashes were scattered, and she planned to camp there on her mum’s birthday to remember her. Just the loch, Carli and her mum. Lots of peace and reflection.
