I leaned across the table toward him, fully aware that the local customers were watching us. “We are most definitely not having that conversation here. For now, you just keep me apprised on the planning process, and I’ll be ready when you are for the structure to go up.”
“Taran.” Quinn sat forward, his expression pleading. “Meet me somewhere.”
Cammie’s revelations from the other day had secretly been plaguing me. I wanted to know if there was any truth to it, but it terrified me how much I wanted to know.
“Quinn, I?—”
“Well, isn’t this not a fucking surprise.”
The harsh words cut me off. Our attention snapped upward to the rough-looking gentleman standing between our chairs. I hadn’t even heard the bell above the door announce his presence.
I didn’t recognize him. The bald man was perhaps in his late sixties, had a bit of a gut, and the T-shirt he wore beneath a battered rain jacket was wrinkled and worn. His jeans and boots looked like they’d seen better days, as did his skin and teeth.
The most shocking thing about him, however, was the utter hatred oozing from him as he glowered at Quinn.
Quinn’s expression tightened. “Eoghan.”
“It’s Mr. McCall to you, you wee shite.”
Indignation flooded me. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t allow anyone to abuse my customers. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.”
The man sneered at me. “This is your mum’s place, not yours.”
“My mother’s dead.” I glared as I rose to stand. He was only a few inches taller than me. The smell of alcohol wafted strongly from him. “I own the store. Now please leave.”
Everything seemed to quieten around us.
“Taran Macbeth.” The man I still didn’t quite recognize curled his upper lip at me. “Still whoring yourself to McQuarrie after he knocked up Kiera Donnelly.”
Quinn shot out of his chair. “You watch your fucking mouth, McCall.”
Suddenly I knew who this was.
Liam McCall’s dad.
I’d forgotten about Liam.
Mum had told me all about it at the time.
Tragic. He’d died in a boating accident. I’d thought his parents had left the island, though.
Something malicious darkened in Eoghan McCall’s gaze at Quinn’s reaction. He turned back to me. “Now that I know a whore is running this place, I’ll let myself out.”
Quinn lunged toward the older man, and I instinctively grabbed his biceps with one hand and the scruff of his T-shirt with the other. “Quinn, no!”
He tensed against my hold, battling his instincts.
“It’s clearly the reaction he wants.”
My words found their mark. Quinn relaxed ever so slightly. “Get out now, or I’ll make you leave.”
Eoghan curled his lip in disgust. “You’ll get what’s coming to you, boy.” His dark eyes flicked to me. “Oh aye, you will.” Then he turned and stalked out, slamming the door shut behind him.
My mother’s shop was so silent you could hear a pin drop.
I uncurled my fingers from Quinn’s T-shirt, glancing around at my customers who all stared at us with wide-eyed curiosity. “Sorry about that, folks.” I released Quinn entirely. “Free biscotti for everyone.”
I heard Ewan’s indignant huff from the barista counter and ignored him, turning back to my ex. We waited for the noise to rise again before we slowly sat back down. “Do you want to tell me what the hell that was about?”
