Grabbing the rest of his supplies, he came closer. I sat back in my chair, grasping the opportunity to force a subject change. “You should probably apologise to Jess before you leave.”
He paused. “For?”
“Poking fun at the spring festival baking contest. That’s why she was so short with you just now.”
“Fuck,” he groaned, pressing the back of one glovedhand to his head. The most human gesture I’d ever seen from him. “It was months ago.”
“Jess likes to hold a grudge.” I shrugged. “And she’s won more times than anyone else. You basically took a shit on her life’s work.”
“That’s a little dramatic. I didn’t even know about the article until yesterday. And the reporter took my words out of context. I merely suggested they bake something a little healthier.”
“Because that’s why people enter baking contests, for the fibre.” I could see the man’s biceps straining the arms of his ridiculously well-fitted shirt. I bet he hadn’t consumed sugar in years. “You did theKinleith Gazettea solid at least. People are still talking about it.”
“What’s the big deal about the baking contest anyway?”
“It’s a Kinleith tradition. The spring festival gives an indication of what the judges are looking for that year, and who’s the main competition. And the summer contest has a monetary prize. Two thousand pounds. It’s a big deal, draws in the tourists too.” He snorted at this prospect, tossing a few sterile packets onto the counter.
“Just what this island needs, more people.” He lowered to his knees before me. His crisp black trousers on the ancient linoleum floor. “I’ll clean out your cuts, but I want to check your neck first.”
I nodded, swallowing as he invaded my space, the heat of his chest pressing against my body and the pads of his fingers slipping beneath my hair, cupping the back of my neck. “Ease to the left.”
I sucked in a breath. Letting him guide the motion, my head twisted toward the door. Gaze snagging his. His eyes bounced over my face, narrowed with focus, a little V notching between his brows.
My cheeks burned, and I averted my eyes.
The Macabes were all striking. In a line-up, they were Scotland’s answer to the Skarsgård family. And from this proximity, I could see that Alistair was –objectively–attractive. In a contradictory way.
Severe nose that accentuated pillow-soft lips. Sharp eyes behind round glasses. The pieces shouldn’t have fit together, and at the same time, they made him one of the most interesting-looking men I’d ever gazed upon. It was hard to not look at him.
“Perfect. And back to the right.” His fingers squeezed. It felt so much like praise; I sucked in a shallow, confused breath.
“Can I ask you a question?” I said after a moment. He didn’t answer, so I asked it anyway. “If you hate Skye so much, why move back?”
A short pause. Warm fingers on the top nodule of my spine. “I don’t hate Skye.”
“Fine.”Semantics. “If you strongly dislike Skye, why move back?”
“My dad got sick.”
“He had Alzheimer’s right, before he died?” I vaguely recalled Heather saying it was something like that. He nodded once, the action sharp as he forced my neck into another rotation. I felt like shit for bringing it up. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? You didn’t kill him.”Bloody hell, could he not even accept empathy? “Tilt your head all the way back.”
His touch swept over my jaw. Down the sides of my throat. I stared at the peeling plaster for a long moment, wondering if he could feel the goosebumps erupting over my skin. “That doesn’t explain why you’re still here.”
He huffed, and I swear I could feel the heat steam out of his nose. “You’re nosy.”
“I preferpersonal.”
“Gossipy sounds more accurate.”
“Hey!” I snapped, pulling my head from his grasp. “I’m a vault. I don’t share information.”
He considered me for a long moment, sitting back on his heels. I’d forever wonder what he read in my expression that finally made him say, “My dad left me the surgery. I only found out at the will reading.”
I did my best not to let my eyes pop out of their sockets, I swear I did. Still, he snapped, “What?”
“Nothing. Sorry, I just—” I shook my head. “You’re annoyed because your dad left you an entire medical practice? I’d be surprised if I inherited a stick of gum from mine.”
