Evenings have become a ritual of cooking dinner together, followed by long chats on the back deck as the sun dips below the horizon. It’s simple. Uncomplicated. And in those quiet conversations, in the way she talks about my mom with such tenderness and mischief, I feel something in me start to settle.
The thought of leaving all this behind sits heavy on my mind. Part of me wants to hit pause, to hold onto these moments where the air is lighter, the days slower, and life a little more easygoing. It’s strange how quickly a place can feel like home. How the right people, the right pace, can make you want to hold onto every last second. I know reality will eventually call me back, and I’ll have to face whatever it is that’s waiting for me, but for now, this is enough.
It’s almost June, and while the weather has mostly been gray and moody, today is an exception. It’s bright and breezy with no sign of the infamous Scottish rain. I’m out at the naturereserve, trying to soak in as much of this rare sunshine as I can. The paths seem endless, twisting and turning into new surprises at every corner. Waterfalls spill down hidden slopes, quiet streams mirror the sunlight, and birds fill the air with their songs. The place is alive, almost vibrating with energy.
I check the time—mid-afternoon already. Perfect for a detour to the café. I need to catch up with Lucy and see if there’s anything I can do to pitch in. Maybe I’ll give Bree a call, too.
By the time I’m settling into the same cozy corner of the café with my latte, my phone is buzzing on the table. Speak of the devil.
“Hey, you.”
“Don’they youme. You’ve been gone for almost a week, and this is the first time you’ve picked up. You’re grounded.”
I roll my eyes, even though she can’t see me. “Okay, Mom. It’s not like we haven’t texted each other a thousand times since I’ve been gone,” I joke. “I miss you, too, by the way.”
“Yeah, yeah. You better.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “Tell me what you’ve been up to today.”
I settle into the chair as I start recounting my day.
Bree sighs. “It sounds amazing.” There’s a pause, then her voice lights up with a new thought. “But I am seriously disappointed in the lack of pictures. Specifically, the ones of burly Scottish men.”
I can’t hold back my laugh, not even caring when a few people glance my way. “I’m not going to be a creep, and I’m definitely not on the hunt for one of those.”
“Well, you should be.”
“A creep?”
“Well, no. But maybe? Scratch that. No to that, but yes to the hunt.”
I shake my head, a laugh escaping me. “You’re impossible.”
“Don’t be silly. You love me madly.”
I can’t argue with that. I’m about to ask her when she’ll be making her trip out here as the door chimes, cutting me off. A commanding presence fills the room, and I don’t even need to look up to know exactly who it is. That hair, those worn boots, and the way he stands just a little taller than everyone else, owning the space the moment he steps in.
I lose track of my conversation with Bree, my attention shifting to him as he strides toward the counter. His sister’s face lights up when she sees him, and she hands him a drink that’s already waiting for him along with a small treat wrapped in brown paper.
My pulse quickens when he catches my eye from across the room, a slow, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Hello? Juliette, are you there?”
Shit. I forgot I was on the phone. “Sorry, I think we had bad connection for a second.”
“No, we didn’t. I could hear all the background noise. What are you hiding from me?”
Busted.
“Nothing, but I do need to run. I’ll call you later. Love you, bye!” The words come out in a rush, cutting off her protests not to hang up on her when I do, indeed, hang up on her.
eleven
KNOX
Idon’t need to search for her. Juliette’s impossible to miss, and as soon as I step into the café, there’s an invisible current that pulls me in her direction.
She’s sitting at a corner table, head tilted, lips curved around something that probably isn’t meant to be seductive, but Christ, it is. That sun-warmed skin, dark hair falling in waves over her shoulders, the flush in her cheeks like she’s just come in from a long walk through the hills.
My eyes stick to her like they’ve found their home, and when hers meet mine, a little unsure but not backing down, I know I’m not the only one caught in whatever this is.
