Page 38 of Twilight Tides
We’d bonded so completely that when she and Quinn reconciled, I’d felt incredibly lonely when she left. Not that I ever told her that. For a year I’d watched Taran crippled by grief, and it was only when Quinn pursued her again that I saw her really start living again. And Taran was always thinking of other people and how she could make their lives better. I would never begrudge her finding happiness, and I would never let her feel guilty for moving on with her life.
Yet, despite the tension between Murray and me, I found relief that I didn’t have to return to the bungalow alone.
However, if things continued the way they were, I might find his home just as lonely.
“I’m trying to wait until the girls get here,” Taran announced in her lilting Scottish accent, “but I am not feeling happy vibes from you, my friend, and I am worried.”
I’d spent three nights in Murray’s house. We’d swapped cell numbers the morning after he made me dinner, and he’d texted me that afternoon to say he was stuck at work dealing with a problem so he wouldn’t be home for dinner that night.I’d cooked myself something and then rifled through his record collection before heading to bed, bored and alone.
Last evening, he had come home for dinner, and I’d returned the favor by cooking sea bass I’d daringly bought from Shona’s fishmonger. To my surprise, she’d apologized and also apologized on behalf of the gossips. She assured me that no one truly thought Murray was taking advantage of me, and she was glad he’d found someone who had his back. I thought that was classy of her and she’d given me a much-needed reminder that while small-town life could be gossipy and judgmental, at heart the folks here were good people.
Conversation with Murray at dinner had been very surface level. I didn’t want to share any more vulnerable personal stuff, so it went something like:
“Did you know we didn’t use to have a lot of sea bass in the Hebrides? Warming sea temperatures brought them farther in. This catch was probably from the Kyle of Tongue,” Murray had said after taking a bite of said fish.
I just nodded, feeling a little frustrated that he was talking to me like I was a stranger.
There had been no music or chatting after dinner. Murray had gone into the sitting room to watch TV, and I went to my room to read the book we were supposed to be reading for book club, but really just to hide.
I met Taran’s concerned gaze now as she unlocked the front door of her house. It had been Quinn’s place first and was architect designed. It had a large kitchen living space with lots of glass that overlooked wide fields. It wasn’t massive like Murray’s, and it was for sure homier, filled with personality and books and art and evidence of a family living here. The only rooms in Murray’s house that had any personality were the reception hall, Kelly’s bedroom and the music room.
“I’m fine,” I assured my friend. “Better than fine. I applied for my permanent visa and as long as they don’t investigate us, I’ll be granted UK citizenship. I’ll never have to leave.”
Taran frowned at my bright, fake smile. “I’m keeping my mouth shut until Cammie and Tierney arrive.”
I tried not to worry about whatever ambush was coming as I helped her brew tea and unboxed the pastries I’d brought for our catch-up. To keep her distracted, I asked about her and Quinn’s wedding plans. To Cammie’s relief, they were going to have a proper ceremony and reception, unlike Tierney and Ramsay. As an interior designer, Cammie adored all things designing and planning and she had a fantastic eye.
Taran told me they’d secured Glenvulin Castle for the venue. I’d never been, but it was only a few miles down the coast from Murray’s home. The land there was purchased by a British aristocrat who had cleared the entire estate of homes so he could have total privacy and then he’d had the castle built in Scots Baronial style. The guy was apparently hated, but in the last century the castle had fallen out of the family’s ownership and was now owned by the people of Leth Sholas who had pooled together their resources to buy it. The council here, headed by local landowner and landlord Aodhan Macduff, ran it as a guest house and wedding venue.
As I’d been invited to be a bridesmaid, along with Tierney and Cammie, I’d get to see the castle. Heather, Quinn’s daughter, would be maid of honor, but she was at university in Glasgow.
“Knock, knock!” Cammie’s voice echoed through the house suddenly.
I felt a nervous twist in my stomach at the sound of her and Nee’s footsteps.
At the sight of Nee, I had to remind myself not to ask how she was feeling. She’d had a bad bout of morning sickness, so I’dtaken over for her in the breakfast room, asking the guests for their orders, cooking, and then serving.
Nee had felt terrible, but it was the least I could do for her. She’d been sick since the wee hours of the morning, and Ramsay had called her about five times to check in.
My friend caught my concerned look and gave me a brief reassuring smile and nod. She did look a little brighter, less wan than she had this morning.
“Alright.” Cammie clapped her hands together, eyes on me. “Let’s just get straight to it, shall we? What the actual fuck, London?”
I burst into nervous laughter at Cammie’s characteristic bluntness. “Can you be more specific?”
“You married Murray Shaw and we’re all supposed to believe you’ve secretly been seeing each other and falling in love behind our backs when we’re all pretty sure you married him for a visa and he married you to cut Jill off.” Cammie made a scissor action with her fingers.
I frowned. “I hope you haven’t been spreading that around.”
“Of course not. I’m the one who suggested this plan a year ago.”
“You did not.”
“Not to you. But I did suggest it.” Cammie waggled her brows, eyes laughing. “Anyway, unbelievably the rest of Leth Sholas might actually be buying into the lie after you so ‘nobly defended’ Murray to Shona McIver.”
“It’s definitely not because you two are all over each other in public,” Nee added pointedly. “In fact, the last time you were seen in public was at the beginning of the week.”
“Guys—”
