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“You don’t have to apologise for anything,” Grace assures me. “We’re here for you.”

“We’ll always be here for you,” David agrees.

“Thanks.” I wipe at my eyes. “I really appreciate both of you.”

“Let’s listen to the radio for a bit,” Grace suggests. “It might help distract you.”

She turns it on, and Scottish folk music plays through the speakers. She quickly changes station, but it’s too late. My thoughts have already gone back to that night in the Pheasant . . .

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

ALLY

By the time I get back, it’s late afternoon and I’m soaked through. I didn’t grab a jacket when I left. I just . . . left, storming out of the hotel, a million thoughts whirring through my mind, leaving me dizzy and overwhelmed. I trekked up a nearby hill, and there, unprotected from the elements and away from everything, I managed to sort out some of the mess in my head.

I can see now just how unreasonable I was to Emily earlier. When Harry came back for her, I couldn’t think straight. I got jealous, and that—on top of all the stress and anxiety about the new business venture and the changes around the hotel—well . . . it wasn’t a good combination, and that’s an understatement.

I need to try so much harder. I owe Emily an apology—a big one.

I check the office first, sticking my head around the door, but there’s no sign of Emily, only Lewis.

He glances up from the laptop. “There you are, you fucking numpty.” His tone catches me off-guard. This isn’t our usual brotherly ribbing. There’s an edge to his voice, and his expression is thunderous. “I don’t know what you said to Emily, but you messed up badly.”

“I know I did. I need to find her, so I can—”

“Is that the fuckwit back?” Jamie slinks into reception from the snug, his arms folded.

Lewis rises from his chair and takes a menacing step towards me. Standing in the office doorway, I feel like I’m being surrounded by my brothers.

I raise my hands, my sodden clothes dripping onto the floor. “All right, I screwed up—I know I did—but I’m going to try and make things right. If you could just—”

“It’s too late to make things right,” Jamie scoffs.

An uneasy feeling settles in my stomach. “What do you mean?”

“She’s gone, mate.” Lewis takes another step towards me.

“What?”

He closes the distance between us, forcing me to back up until I hit the reception desk.

“I said she’s gone,” he practically spits in my face.

I look at Jamie, needing him to confirm this.

He nods without even the slightest hint of sympathy. “Grace and David came back for her. I know I joked about hating the way you’ve been walking around with a grin on your face, but I liked Emily. She was good for the hotel—good for you. Whatever you did, you’re a bloody fool.”

“Aye,” Lewis agrees. “Like I said when you came in, you’re a fucking numpty.”

“An eejit,” Jamie offers.

“A dumbass,” Lewis says.

“Idiot.”

“Moron.”

“Fuckwit.”