“I know!” She grinned as we reached the high street. I drove even slower, wanting to linger with her a little longer. “Mom helped me overcome all that. She’d practice an American accent with me for fun. It’s how I got so good at impressions.”
“So you can mock me?” I teased.
“Only a little,” she joked, sobering quickly. “My aunt used to say that Mom made the world feel colorful. And that’s the experience I want to give our baby. I want them to love nature and art. I want them to be creative and filled with passion for the world the way Mom was.”
I pulled up outside the inn, hand on the wheel, and couldn’t help grinning at the way she spoke about our future child. “I think we can manage that.”
Isla unbuckled her seatbelt but made no move to exit the car. Her eyebrows pulled together tightly. “I just want this baby to know how loved they are. Bybothof us. Regardless of what our relationship is, I never want them to doubt that.”
I turned the engine off, shifting in her direction. I suspected she wasn’t just talking about the baby now, but her relationship with Dougal. “Can I ask…what happened with your father? Why are things so tough?”
Isla ran her hands over her knees, sighing. “I guess, to me, it just always felt like Dad was more concerned about making money than about being there for his family.”
I nodded for her to continue.
She sank back in her seat, staring out the windshield. “When I was six, he decided that MacRae Whiskey should be more thansome local brand. He went all in on his expansion plans, moved the headquarters to Edinburgh. To his credit, it worked.”
“You and your mum didn’t move with him?”
Isla shook her head. “Mom refused. She’d never wanted the city life. So Dad commuted back and forth for a while. He’d spend the work week in Edinburgh, the weekends in Braeburn. But when you’re growing a company, well…” She gestured to me. “You probably know. The work never?—”
“Stops,” I said, nodding.
“Dad wanted to be involved in everything. He wouldn’t delegate, which meant even when he was here, he wasn’t reallypresent, you know? He was always taking a call or looking through paperwork or checking his email. The less meaningful time we all spent together, the more fights my parents had. It all ended in divorce when I was seven.”
“I’m sorry that happened when you were so young,” I told her. “My parents managed to wait until I was in college.”
Isla finally looked at me. “I don’t think it matters how old you are. It still sucks to watch your family fall apart.”
“Sometimes I wished it happened when I was too young to understand,” I said. It wasn’t a topic I usually got into with people, but it felt easier with her. I was the sole focus of her attention, and that comforted the old aches. “Instead, I had to be privy to every uncomfortable detail of how my mum fell in love with a younger man on a trip to Europe.”
Isla gasped. “No!”
“She ran off with him. It was a short-lived affair, and it wasn’t long before Mum regretted everything. She wanted my dad backin the end, but he was done. The divorce itself was quick and clean, thankfully. By that point, I think Mum felt too guilty to push for much, and Dad bent over backward to be fair. But I saw how diminished he was in the aftermath. Even ten years on, I know it still hurts him.”
“Oh, Locke,” she said, her hand seeking mine, entwining our fingers. “How are you and your parents now?”
“It’s…okay. But I wouldn’t say I’m close with either one of them. I saw more of Dad—then and now—but a lot of that is because of the business. We worked side by side for years, and even now that he’s retired, it’s still what we usually chat about. The next property. The next deal. As far as Mum goes…I think part of me hasn’t ever fully forgiven her. We still have a relationship, but it’s strained. It might always be.”
“I think that’s what worries me most about my dad,” Isla said, her lips pulling into a tight line. “That our relationship will always be this way.” She squeezed my hand. I didn’t know who she was trying to comfort more—me or herself. “I mean, he’s about to be a grandfather, but I’m not even excited to tell him. What if nothing has changed? What if he still picks his ambitions—picks whiskey—over the baby and me?” She blinked as if to fight off a flurry of tears.
The desire to pull her into my arms was strong. I wanted to be able to give her the answers to the questions she was asking, but both of us knew I couldn’t.
“What hurts the most is that he isn’t even sorry about all the time we lost together. Or rather, he wished we’d had more time together, but athisconvenience. He wishes I’d moved to Edinburgh instead of Washington state. And now, he wishes I visited him more—yet it never occurs to him to visitme. He stillbelieves he did the right thing. He wants a relationship with me now, but he expects me to do all the work to keep it going. And why should I do that when he’s shown me I’m not his priority?”
I could tell she wasn’t ready to forgive Dougal. And I understood that. It wasn’t as easy to forgive and forget as some people thought. “I’m sorry you haven’t been able to get the apology you’re looking for.”
She grumbled as if frustrated that Dougal had even put her in that position. “Just promise me we won’t ever let Baby Fraser feel abandoned.”
“Baby Fraser, huh?” I ran my thumb along her knuckles and nodded. If all I had to do in this lifetime was promise to love my child the way they deserved, I could do that. “I promise.”
A watery smile tugged at her lips. “Good. Because I still remember being that little girl who couldn’t understand why I didn’t matter. Why I wasn’t special enough to deserve my dad’s time.”
I released her hand, catching her face with my palm, my thumb brushing her cheek. I felt the warmth of her blush as I leaned into her space. “It’s hard to imagine anyone not realizing how truly special you are, Isla.”
She gasped lightly, whispering my name as she shifted to meet me halfway, her lips catching mine. It was a gentle kiss, a sweet kiss, fueled by the need for comfort but also tinged with understanding. As my fingers shifted into her hair, cradling the back of her head, and her hand snaked up my front, curving around my neck, desire surged through me and the kiss turned heated. She broke away first, lip caught between her teeth. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Anytime,” I whispered, wondering what the hell this meant.
