The soup isheavenly. Creamy and rich with a smoky depth that warms me from the inside out.
“This might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“High praise.”
“Well-deserved praise.” I take another bite, letting out an involuntary hum of appreciation.
“Glad you like it. It’s a staple around these parts.”
The little grayuile-bhèistweaves around our feet, darting between the chair legs in search of something. I chuckle, watching him with amusement. “I think he finally caught scent of the fish,” I muse. “Does little Beastie want some fishies?”
“Beastie?” Knox raises an eyebrow.
I cross my arms over my chest. “You don’t think I’m going to call him that dreadful name you gave him, right? Beastie is much cuter.”
He gives a quiet exhale, something caught between disbelief and amusement and runs a hand along his jaw. We talk for a bit longer, conversation easy, unhurried, before it fadesinto a quiet stretch of stillness, the kind that feels like settling in.
Leaning back in my seat, I take a sip of my drink, letting out a satisfied sigh. “I can’t take another bite. I’m stuffed. Thank you for this. It was wonderful.”
“Anytime, lass. I mean it.”
I try to fight the blush that creeps up my neck but it’s no use. It spreads across my cheeks, hot and undeniable. I drop my gaze, hoping he doesn’t notice, though I’m pretty sure he does.
“So…tell me about Lucy and Callan. I know you mentioned Callan was a bit younger.”
“Aye, Lucy’s the youngest of the bunch. I had to threaten many people on her behalf growing up.” There’s a tenderness in his gaze as he talks about her. “She’s so innocent. I’ve always felt like she needed a little more protection than Cal. He’s just a nut.”
“I never had any siblings. I do have Bree, though. She’s as close as I’ve got to one and has had to step in for me on more than one occasion as well.” I pause, fingers toying with the edge of my sleeve as a memory of her flashes through my mind—loud, loyal, and always three steps ahead of me. “Actually, you might be able to meet her. She’s coming to stay with Aunt Rose and me.”
“Ah, you’ll have to bring her by the distillery and show her around.”
“I definitely will. Although don’t be offended when she tells you she hates whisky,” I warn. “Because she really, really hates it.”
He tosses me a wink, leaning back a little. “Blasphemy.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Tell me about it.”
I shift gears. “Okay, and what about Callan? I find it fascinating how much you and Lucy resemble each other. Callan is clearly related, but his eyesare so different.”
His expression falters for a second. His eyes lose that usual spark, and the playful edge in his voice fades. “Lucy and I look like our mum,” he says quietly, his gaze distant. “Callan looks a bit more like my dad. He passed away when we were young. Car accident.”
Shit. I didn’t mean to go there. My stomach sinks as his expression shifts, and his eyes darken. I swallow, suddenly wishing I asked something less loaded, less personal. “Knox, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up any unhappy memories.”
He gives me a small smile, brushing it off, but I can still sense the weight behind his words. “I appreciate that. I was very young when he passed, only eight.”
My heart tugs at the thought. That must’ve been so hard. It was tough enough losing a parent as an adult. I can’t imagine what it would’ve been like at that age, especially so suddenly.
“That must have been so difficult for you guys.”
He nods, his shoulders relaxing a little. “It was. My mum ended up remarrying later. Paul is great. Really stepped up for us. Most folks that know us don’t realize we’re not his.”
I can tell just how deeply this man loves the people who raised him. “It sounds like you have an amazing family.”
The pride in his voice is unmistakable as he says, “I really do. They’re better than I could’ve ever hoped for.” There’s a pause before he continues. “I do know a bit about your family through Rose. I understand your mom was her twin?”
A lump forms in my throat as the memory drifts in. I nod, swallowing down the emotion. “Mmhm. She was. We lost her to cancer when I was twenty-one.” I stop, gathering the strength to keep going. Something about his gaze, understanding and patient, makes it easier. “I had a really hard time with it. She was the kindest soul and was all I had. I think about her every day.”
“I can’t even begin to imagine how hard that must havebeen, Juliette.” His voice softens, the furrow in his brows deepening as he looks at me with genuine empathy. “Rose always speaks so highly of her, too. I can tell she was incredible just from the things I’ve heard.”
