‘Ah, no,’ I reply deadpan. ‘I’m pregnant, not daft, and I told you months ago, she’s moved on.’
‘I didn’t buy it then, and I’m not buyin’ it now. I’ll find her; you know that.’
‘Good luck, pal,’ Mac all but growls.
‘It’s only a matter of time.’
‘And time is all she needs,’ I answer quietly. ‘Time to get over you.’
‘So she’s not,’ Rory replies, laughing bitterly. ‘That makes two of us, then. Just tell me—’
‘Don’t you talk to my sister,’ Mac starts again. ‘If you’ve got anything tae’ ask, say it tae’ me.’ He thumbs his chest hard, and I swear Rory almost rolls his eyes.
‘I thought we’d done this bit already,’ he answers. ‘For the love of God, just tell me where she is.’
‘Up his arse and five houses along,’ retorts Nat, tugging on my arm. ‘Come away now. Let the little boys have their fun.’ A look between Mac and Natasha speaks volumes I’ve no time to read. ‘You’re wasting your time,’ she says to Rory over her shoulder. ‘If she was interested, she’d have sought you out.’
Rory’s jaw flexes, his expression firming like granite.
‘It’s like I keep telling you; no one wants you around.’
My brother folds his arms, Rory’s head turning towards him like a turret on a tank.
‘Why, you got plans on keeping her for yourself, big fella?’
‘Sure.’ Beneath his lip, Mac swipes his tongue over the top of his teeth.
Rory tilts his head, his gaze sweeping over my brother, weighing his words. Taking him in. ‘Nah. You’re no’ Fin’s type.’
‘You sure about that?’ Mac taunts, but Rory just laughs. ‘I’ll fuck you up,’ Mac growls.
‘You reckon? I’ll tell you what. Here.’ He turns his head, tapping the side of his chin in invitation. ‘Free shot. Make it count.’
And like the hothead my brother is, he takes him up on the invitation.
Thwack.Rory staggers but keeps his footing. And then he’s laughing. Maybe he has taken a leaf out of Tam’s book; maybehe isdrunk?
Fingers splayed on his thighs; he spits red snot onto the pavement. Without lifting his head, he glances up. ‘Solid shot.’ He straightens. ‘Your first and last. I get that you’re looking out for her, respect it even, but it is’nae gonna work.’ He turns to us, with a slight dip of his head. ‘Ladies,’ he says, suddenly swinging back to Mac. ‘I suppose I’ll see you same time next week.’
‘He’s off his rocker,’ Mac says as we watch him walk away, hands in his pockets, shoulders turned in.
‘Why? Why would you even do that, you big oaf?’ Nat’s angry, poking Mac in the chest, but I’m not paying attention as the pair begin to bicker; instead, I’m watching Rory’s retreating form. He slows as he approaches the salon doorway where June stands. He stops and glances at the ground before raising his head. Then he says something that causes June to smile before her hand reaches out to pat his cheek.
‘What was that about?’ I ask as I reach the salon door myself. My eyes flick to Rory’s back as he walks farther away, the weight of the world apparently balanced on his back.
‘I just gave him a wee word of advice,’ June replies, straightening her flowery head scarf.
‘You told him not to come back?’ What else is there to be said? But what was with the cheek patting?
‘I told him to take heart. Thatwhat’s comin’ fir ye, will no’ pass y’ by.’
Great. The Scottish version of que sera, sera. I find myself shaking my head.
‘Say what you will, hen,’ June continues, ‘that boy has it bad, and when it comes to real love, there’s no giving up.’
With that, she retreats into the salon, leaving me feeling like I’ve been punched in the throat.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
