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Of course, I’ll never act on these thoughts—Emily’s a guest here. I probably shouldn’t be having private fantasies about her, but I’m having a hard time getting these images out of my head. I need release from this tension.
I glance down at myself. Besides, I can hardly go about my day with this big thing making a noticeable bulge in my jeans.
I decide I deserve some “me-time”—but a moment later, there’s a banging on the bathroom door.
“Oi, Ally, are you in there?”
For fuck’s sake.
“Jamie, I’m in the shower. Fuck off!”
“There’s a leak in room one.”
I swear some more, then I turn off the shower and grab a towel. Of course, I can’t leave the bathroom with my cock standing to attention, but the thought of my wee brother on the other side of the door, along with my perpetual frustration with hotel maintenance, soon sorts out that problem. I head into my bedroom with the towel wrapped around my waist, still dripping.
“I was going to call Keith the plumber,” Jamie says, “but you’re always saying we should do things ourselves.”
I shoot him a glare then rifle through my drawers for some clothes. “Aye, I am, but somehow ‘we’ always ends up being ‘me’. You’ve at least put down a bucket, aye?”
“Of course. And maybe there’s a reason it’s always you who ends up doing things.”
“Such as?”
He shrugs. “If ever Lewis or I don’t do something perfectly the first time, you give us a bollocking. It’s easier just to let you handle things.”
I groan. “You sound just like Lewis. He was going on earlier about how he finds me controlling.”
“Oh, aye, that’s the word! Controlling. Describes you perfectly.”
“Piss off!”
I toss a pair of socks at him, but he dodges.
“Now, turn around and let me get changed. And I’m going to need those socks back.”
I tug on some boxer briefs, jeans, and a polo shirt. Jamie, meanwhile, collapses on my leather recliner and picks up one of my extreme sports magazines. Although the guest rooms are decorated identically, our own rooms have a bit of personality. Mine reflects my love of the outdoors, with photos of the River Garve and nearby hills, as well as a large map of the world.
The map is somewhat crumpled since I tore it off the wall one day and scrunched it into a ball. I’d been frustrated by all the places Aidan was getting to see while I was stuck here. But after I’d recovered from my pathetic wee temper tantrum, I put the map back up.
“All right, I’m dressed. Let’s go see about that leak.” I head for the door but hesitate. “You know all that stuff about being controlling? I’m not . . .” I take a breath. “I’m not a bad big brother, am I?”
Jamie frowns, watching me like he’s trying to figure out if this is a ruse. “Jesus, Ally. You’re not some kind of monster. Aye, sometimes you drive me up the wall, but sometimes Lewis drives me up the wall too. And I know I sometimes drive you both up the wall. That’s just what brothers are like, isn’t it?”
“Aye, I suppose.” I scratch my cheek. “Thanks for picking me and Emily up today, by the way. The fact you’re still willing to get in a car and drive after what happened blows my mind. The accident was hard for all of us—losing Maw and Da—but you were there that night. I really do . . . you know, feel proud big-brother love for you and all that stuff.”
“Jesus! What did that English woman do to you today? Thanks, I suppose, but honestly, I prefer it when you’re telling me to fuck off. This”—he points between us—“is really awkward.”
“Aye, it is awkward, isn’t it? Shall I go fix the leak now?”
“Please.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
EMILY
I sigh contentedly, sitting on my bed. I’m fresh from a hot shower, wrapped only in a cotton robe. I brought the robe with me, of course: the Bannock Hotel may be growing on me, but it definitely doesn’t provide such niceties.
I’m pleasantly sleepy. The fresh country air and the rafting, along with the stress of the last few days, have taken it out of me.
