Page 227 of My Fake Dating with the Grumpiest Highlander
Nothing.
The path is empty.
No Hamish.
No Ragnar.
I raise an eyebrow.
“The sheep?”
She turns her head briefly before looking back at me, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.
“They were here two seconds ago. Hamish and Ragnar. Together. They literally pushed me all the way here.”
Okay.
Either Mary has completely lost her mind, or the sheep are plotting something.
Honestly, both options seem statistically possible in this place.
“Together? Hamish and Ragnar?”
“I know it sounds impossible. But it’s true.”
An uncomfortable silence settles between us.
I suddenly realize we’re still standing in the doorway.
“You want to come in?”
“If it’s okay.”
It’s not okay.
It’s the opposite of okay.
Because seeing you inside the space where I spent weeks imagining a life with you is going to kill me.
“Of course.”
I step aside.
She walks in.
I close the door behind her, and instantly the cottage feels way too small.
We sit in the tiny living room.
I offer tea automatically out of pure reflex.
She declines with a small wave of her hand.
Then we just sit there on opposite sides of the room pretending not to stare at each other.
Say something, Finn. Anything.
But she speaks first.
