Page 6

With a few careful strokes, I manoeuvre closer to Deborah then point at her paddle. “Try gripping the shaft a little tighter.”

“I’d rather grip your shaft, Aidan!” she shoots back, which of course results in more squawking laughter.

I feign surprise, pretending I didn’t set that up for her, then chuckle as though I’ve only just got the joke. Ally scowls at me.

“Here, do you all remember what that woman with the blue hair said about Aidan?” one of the hens calls.

“Oh, yeah!” Deborah’s face lights up with mischief. “Last night, we went drinking in this pub called the Pheasant. When we mentioned to the woman serving us we’d booked to go paddleboarding, she told us that you, Aidan, have a reputation around town. You’re a player!”

“What can I say? The stories are all true.”

The hens giggle at this, a few of them eyeing me up in my wetsuit, which I’m aware clings tightly to me and doesn’t leave much to the imagination.

Ally coughs. “Aye, well, something you may not have heard about Aidan is he still lives with his maw. Almost thirty and living at home with his mummy. What do you ladies think about that?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I protest. “To clarify, it’s temporary. I was away travelling the world for a few years, teaching outdoor activities all over. Now I’m back, I’m staying with her just till I get on my feet. Ally and I recently started this business, and it’s doing well, so I should be in a position to get my own place soon.”

I reckon that was a pretty good recovery. The last thing I want is to be a figure of pity.

“Do you know what, Aidan?” Deborah says. “We were desperate to book a stripper, but we didn’t think we’d be able to in a quaint little town. However, given your reputation, maybe we can buy a dance from you as an add-on to the paddleboarding? Like a package deal?”

“I’d happily pay to see that!” Gemma exclaims.

Others voice their agreement.

I lift my paddle out of the water then stroke my chin as though giving the proposition serious thought. “Well, we were thinking of expanding into other areas . . .”

“Aye, like buying a couple of canoes,” Ally grumbles. “Not stripping!”

“You could strip too!” Gemma squeals. “You’re more my type—darker hair, stubble, ruggedly handsome. And anyway, you’re business partners: it makes sense to do it together.”

The consensus among the hens is this is a brilliant idea. Ally looks more uncomfortable than ever.

Deciding he’s had enough, I say, “I’m afraid Ally’s a taken man. He put a ring on his fiancée’s finger not so long ago.”

“Boo!” Deborah objects. “Marriage and kids—that’s a prison sentence. Am I right, Aidan?”

Jade, the bride-to-be, gasps. “Excuse me? Are you forgetting why we’re all here? We’re celebrating that I’m about to get hitched!”

At this, they all laugh, including Jade.

I navigate the minibus along the narrow drive that winds through the sprawling grounds of the Glen Garve Resort. A huge, grand hotel situated just outside Bannock, its luxury facilities include fine dining, a full golf course, a swimming pool, and a spa.

Ally once considered it a rival of his family’s much smaller hotel in the centre of town, but we’re now working together. We agreed on a deal that lets the clients of Bannock Adventures use the resort’s shower and changing rooms. What’s more, the resort advertises our activities to their guests.

The hen party—who are still in their wetsuits and chattering away in the back—are staying here. They were able to book themselves a two-night stay, spa treatments, and the paddleboarding session all on a single phone call. It’s a setup that makes things super easy for customers, and it’s also a great way for Ally and me to bring in business.

I pull up outside the entrance to the leisure club, then Ally jumps out and slides open the side door.

“You’ll see a laundry bin for your wetsuits inside,” I tell the ladies. “If you could pop them in there once you’re changed, we’d appreciate it. Thanks again for booking with us, and enjoy the rest of your stay.”

The hens clamber out of the minibus, thanking me and Ally. Deborah’s the last to leave, and she passes me a small, folded piece of paper.

“That was really fun, Aidan. If you’re interested in a bit more fun . . .” She winks then steps out.

I open the paper and see she’s written her number and a message: I don’t want to share you! No payment, but strip for me, and I’ll grip your shaft. x

I chuckle then quickly hide the note when Ally hops back in.