Then again, maybe that’s why I’d started dating too. Not just because I wanted to prove Nick’s damage wasn’t permanent, but because maybe I did want someone. It was difficult not to feel longing for a romantic relationship when I saw Nee with Ramsay and Taran with Quinn. Their love stories weren’t perfect—none were—but they were in loving, kind, passionate relationships.
I didn’t think I trusted any man the way they trusted theirs.
Well … that wasn’t true.
An aching pang flared across my chest as I decided against going home and turned toward Main Street.
There was one man who made me feel like I could trust him. One man who made my skin hum and my heart beat rapidly anytime he was near.
Murray Shaw.
I’d never been so hyperaware of a guy in my life. Not even Nefarious Nick.
That scared me too, though.
Because I’d been very wrong before.
But this man … he was … there was something different about him. Something gentle despite how physically large he was.
Looking out toward the harbor where a mishmash of boats swayed softly anchored on the water, I could almost visualize him with his crew, unloading today’s catch.
I’d thought about making a move at last New Year’s Eve party, but when we danced, he’d held me like I was made of crystal and was aloof in a way that told me I’d misinterpreted our previous interactions. I knew when a guy was into me and when a guy wasn’t.
I decided his disinterest was a good thing.
My emotions were still too tangled up to trust anyone.
Shoulders slumping at the honest realization, I bit back a sting of tears.
I wasn’t ready to date.
Not yet.
Damn Nick.
Damn him to hell.
Searching out my distraction, I walked toward the Leth Sholas Life Boat Service (LSLS) Charity Shop that Taran managed. She’d kindly allowed me to put an honesty box outside her store. I’d never heard of the concept of an honesty box until I moved to Scotland. Basically, people sold their wares from a box or sometimes even a small, unmanned store and depended on those who took the items to pay what they felt was a fair price for them.
When Cammie suggested it to me as a place to gauge people’s reactions to my pastries and cakes, I’d thought she was kind of nutty. But shockingly, people took the food and paid for it and paid fairly, sometimes even generously. I think the generous part was because everyone knew I was donating fifty percent of my proceeds to the LSLS. I broke even, but I still got a kick out of seeing how empty the box was. I grinned at it now as I pulled some antibacterial wipes out of my shoulder bag.
Opening the glass-fronted box Quinn had built, I wiped down the crumb-covered shelves, delighted by the emptiness. Every Wednesday morning I filled the box with savory and sweet pastries and an assortment of cakes. I’d been doing this for six weeks, and once word got around, Taran told me the box was empty by ten in the morning.
Grinning to myself, I wiped it all down, emptied the cashbox, and took half into the charity shop. Taran wasn’t there, but I left the money with one of the volunteers and walked out still wearing my silly smile. The salty breeze blowing off the water ruffled through my hair as a pale gold beam of sunlight peeked through a dark cloud above Stòr, and all of it lifted my mood considerably.
When my phone rang, I dug it out of my bag and answered brightly, “Hullo?”
The line crackled as the other person released a heavy breath. “God, it’s good to hear your voice.”
Cold fear flooded my veins, and I stumbled to a stop outside the local chocolate shop.
“Surprised to hear from me?” Nick asked.
“How …” My heart pounded so hard I could barely hear over the blood rushing in my ears.
“How am I calling you? Well, you’ll probably see in the news later today that my lawyers managed to swing a deal for me. No prison time, but I am stuck at home with a not-so-charming ankle accessory.”
No. No, no, no.I huffed out a shaky breath.
