The kind, free-spirited soul of Isla Macbeth wouldn’t be with us much longer, and it was brutal and unfair.
Of all the things to bring Taran back to Leth Sholas, I wish it had been anything but that.
My heart banged against my chest as I took a step toward the shop.
The last time Taran and I spoke was eighteen years ago, and she’d sobbed and screamed and told me she hated me. I didn’t reach out again. There didn’t seem to be a point at the time, and I thought it would only hurt her more. The truth was, I couldn’t stand facing her. Facing the devastation I’d caused.
I’d been a dumb fucking kid.
Eighteen years. I’d been without her for as long as we’d known each other. Yet, she’d never been far from my mind. She’d been an ache in my chest every day. I’d gotten so used to the pain, I’d sometimes forget I was living with it.
But I was aware of it now as I clenched my fists at my side.
“Morning, Quinn.” Flo, the chocolate shop owner, nodded as she passed. I caught her speculative look toward Pages & Perks and gritted my teeth.
Aye, I could imagine the gossip tree was in full bloom now that word was out Taran was home and working at the shop.
I muttered a curse under my breath as I tried to move toward the door and nothing happened.
I looked down at my work-boot-clad feet.
My jeans were covered in plaster and paint smears, oil, and ingrained detritus from my current worksite. We were renovating the old Leth Sholas B and B for my client Tierney Silver. The American was sparing no expense to turn the Victorian property into a destination spot.
Part of me wanted to turn away and walk up the hill back to work. I had a crew to run.
But then I thought of Isla.
Her kindness and forgiveness.
If I owed anyone, I owed it to Isla to offer Taran support while their family went through this fucking awful situation. Before I could move, the door to the store opened and a familiar brunette stepped outside and squinted against the low sunlight. We all joked that there were only two seasons on Glenvulin: June and winter.
It was June.
Normally you could see the spring in folks’ steps with the nicer weather. It lifted the spirits. But right now, it was blowin’ a hoolie in our hearts. The news of Isla had kept the winter in our bones.
I saw the chill of it in Taran’s gaze as recognition flooded her bonny face. Her cheeks had lost the soft roundness of youth, her jawline sharp, her cheekbones high. My ex was even more beautiful than I remembered. In fact, she knocked the breath right out of me. I took in a shuddering one, trying to relax my hands at my sides as her large, thickly lashed dark eyes roamed over me.
I’d fallen in love with her eyes even before I knew what love truly was.
“Taran.” I cleared the grit from my throat. “I just … I wanted to come say hello. To let you know I’m here. We’re all here. For whatever you need.”
She lifted a hand, her slim fingers trembling ever so slightly as she tucked her hair behind her ear. My heart stopped at the glitter of a diamond ring winking in the morning sunlight.
I’d heard she was engaged.
But seeing it … fuck. It was irritating and inconvenient how much it still hurt.
Taran looked over my shoulder, not meeting my eyes as she replied tonelessly, “You’re the last person I’d ever want help from, McQuarrie.” Her gaze returned to mine, and I saw the rage burning there. Somehow, I knew that rage wasn’t just about me. But I was an easy target. “Honestly, the way I’m feeling right now, I’m likely to cause you bodily harm if you come near me again. So stay away. That’s all I need from you.” Taran stalked past me.
That ache in my chest burned like fuck as I turned to watch her walk away. Her shoulders hunched slightly as she crossed her arms over her chest defensively, head down as she moved along Main Street, trying not to meet anybody’s eyes.
Unfortunately, Mrs. Gilchrist, the antiques shop owner, didn’t read Taran’s body language and stopped to greet her. She hugged Taran, but my ex didn’t unfold her arms. She was rigid and unyielding.
In so much goddamn pain, it vibrated off her.
Guilt and anger choked me. Some part of me had truly believed I was barely a memory for Taran Macbeth. That she was over our past and that maybe she’d let me be there for her.
What a joke.
