Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
I gave him a tired smile. “I’ve been walking a little farther each day. And I miss the B and B. Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Greig,” he offered, pronouncing it like Greeg. “Ah dae all the plasterwork an’ painting fer Quinn.”
“Greig. Hi. You’re not from Glenvulin, though, right?”
“Originally Banff. Noo Oban. I stay wae a friend here in Leth Sholas an’ then heid back tae Oban at the weekends.” He gave me a cheeky smile as he offered me his arm. “Want tae lean on me?”
Greig was good-looking with close-cropped auburn hair and a strawberry blond beard. He had freckles and light blue eyes. He was also probably only a year or so younger than me and yet he seemed too young for me to find attractive.
Ramsay had ruined me for men my own age.
He’d just ruined me, period.
Asshole.
Gratefully, I took Greig’s arm, and we began our ascent. “I thought I could make it. I’ve been getting better every day.”
“I think ye’are amazing. Most folk might hole up in their hoose after what ye’ve bin through.”
I wanted to. But I knew that was a path to nowhere good. When I first left the house, I’d been constantly looking over my shoulder, feeling vulnerable in a way I’d never experienced. Over the last few times, that feeling of needing to be hypervigilant had eased somewhat.
It helped to know my attacker, Shawn Prescott, hadn’t been granted bail.
“Thanks. You … gotta get on with it, right?”
“Ye were born tae be an islander, Ms. Silver,” Greig replied with a grin. “Even if ye are fair trauchled by this here hill.”
I chuckled because clearly, I hadn’t hidden how out of breath I was by the climb. “Trauchled. I’ve never heard that one. Exhausted, though, right?”
“Aye.”
“Your accent is so different.”
“It’s the Doric dialect. Even Lowlanders huv a hard go understandin’ it. Yer doin’ weel. Even if yer pechin.”
I merely smiled in response because I didn’t understand the last part.
After a second, Greig cleared his throat. “Ye’re, um … ye’re pals wae Cameron McQuarrie, right?”
My lips twitched with knowing. “I am.”
“I dinnae s’pose ye’d think she’d be interested in a bloke like me?”
“What age are you?”
“Is that a factor?”
“You definitely seem younger than Cammie.”
“Och, age is merely a number.”
“And yours is?”
He grinned. “Twenty-four.”
I grimaced.
Greig scoffed. “Och, it’s no’ that bad, is it?”
“She’s nine years older than you, and I think she likes her men a little older than her.”
“I think she can be persuaded.”
I laughed. “Then why did you ask?”
“So ye can tell her the gid-lookin’ painter-decorator fancies her and it’ll move things a long a wee bit fer me.” Greig winked.
My amusement made my breathing even worse as we finally made it to the top.
Greig frowned. “Ye need tae tak a wee rest noo, all right? I’ll get Quinn.”
“I’m not here to see Quinn.”
“McRae?” Greig guessed and then nodded. “I’ll go find him fer ye.”
“Thank you.”
He raised his coffee cup to me. “Remember tae tell Ms. McQuarrie whit a fine man I am.”
“It would help if you didn’t refer to her by her surname like she’s your teacher!”
He stopped at the doorway and flashed me a wicked grin. “Maybe I’m intae that kind o’ thing.”
I let out a bark of laughter and then winced as slight pain flared across my gut.
With a groan, I forced myself across the driveway and round the front to the garden.
Akiva lay in the grass, face between her paws, eyes closed.
This time the ache I felt was in my chest.
I’d missed her.
Her eyes flew open as if she sensed me and she lunged to her feet, barking. Anyone else would back off, intimidated, but I recognized her happiness. She launched at me, her paws on my chest, and I ignored the impact on my body. Instead, I pulled her into me, petting her and covering her head in kisses.
She whimpered in response, her cries telling me she’d missed me too.
Tears burned in my eyes, and I buried my face in her furry neck as she swiped at me with her tongue.
“Akiva, down!” Ramsay’s authoritative voice rang out across the garden.
Akiva whined but obeyed, sitting on her rump to stare up at me, tail sweeping across the grass, back and forth, back and forth. She trembled against the urge to launch herself at me again.
I frowned at Ramsay as he walked out of the new bifold doors I hadn’t even noticed until now.
“Did she hurt you?” he asked gruffly as he came over to pat a reassuring hand over Akiva’s head.
“No. She was fine.”
Ramsay’s gaze washed over me, like he didn’t believe me.
Probably because I was grimacing and exhausted.
“Did you walk all the way here?”
Not in the mood to argue about my well-being, I waved off his question. “Look, we need to talk.”
His scowl deepened. “So you walk all the way here with a fucking knife wound?”