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“Oh . . . Grace! You didn’t need to do that!”

This act of kindness—this show of support from my best friend—brings on a rush of emotion, and the next thing I know, I’m crying.

“Oh no! Emily, I wish I were there right now so I could wrap you in a hug. Get it all out! I’m here for you. Talk to me.”

I wipe at my eyes and try to calm my breathing. “I’m back to square one with everything, Grace. I had my wedding-planning business, and I thought I had my life partner, but now . . . now I’ve got nothing.”

“Oh, hun! You’re going to be okay. You just need something to take your mind off things.” She smiles wickedly. “What about that twenty out of ten? Maybe you could do with a bit of no-strings-attached holiday sex. Not an emotional relationship, of course—that’s the last thing you need—but a physical relationship? That could be a good healer.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t say this before, but there’s history between us. Well, not history, exactly—that makes it sound too serious—but when I was last in Bannock, Ally and I kissed. We were just kids at the time.”

Grace’s eyebrows shoot up. “A childhood holiday romance? How cute, but let me retract my suggestion of casual sex. That’s for someone you don’t have any history with and have no chance of a future with. You’re not going to jump straight into something with him, are you? Not before you’ve healed?”

“Well . . . I did invite him to my room last night.” I grimace.

“What?”

“But he said no.” I smile tightly and shrug.

“The stupid arse! He turned down a night of lovemaking with you? What is wrong with the guy?”

Despite my tears, I giggle. “Grace, you were just saying I shouldn’t have sex with him!”

“Yes, but I was saying you should turn him down! It’s not okay that he turned you down. What a dick!”

My giggle becomes a laugh. “I know, right? I mean, I’m not that repulsive, am I?”

“You’re beautiful! No straight man in his right mind would turn down a night with you. There must be something wrong with him.”

“Er . . .” a low voice intones.

I look around, and my eyes bulge when I see Ally, standing just five paces away.

“Shit, Grace, I’ve got to go.”

“What? Is everything—”

I hang up before she can finish then wipe at my face, attempting to remove all evidence of tears.

“Sorry,” Ally says awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your call. I shouldn’t have come. It’s just, Lewis mentioned you were going for a walk by the river, and . . . well . . .” He lifts a paper bag. “Morag’s baking always makes me feel better when I’ve got a hangover. I’ll . . . leave this with you.”

He steps forward and puts the bag down on the bench then backs away again, raising a hand. “All right, well, you can call your friend back, if you like. Bye!”

I’m mortified. How much of that conversation did he hear? And why do I keep on humiliating myself in front of this man?

“Wait!”

He’s already taken a few steps away, but he turns back.

I take a deep breath then let it out slowly. I pat the bench. “Sit.”

“Really, if you want to be alone, I can—”

“No, it’s fine. Take a seat.”

I don’t know why I’m telling him to stay—just to punish myself, most likely. Then again, he did bring me fresh baking. I can hardly send him away.

“All right. Well, if you’re sure.” He sits beside me. He’s in a navy woollen sweater with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his toned forearms. His posture is relaxed, legs apart, hands resting inside his thighs.