Page 78 of Scotlander

Oh look! A fresh pile of firewood.

He was hot.

And sweaty and muscly and also really cross with her from the looks of things.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

He glanced over. Their eyes caught and cinched, and although there weren’t actual murderous laser beams coming out of his eyes, she felt their heat. As if he was trying to sear his disappointment right into her skull. Branded. The McIdiot Who Failed at Flirting.

It was a misunderstanding, Finn! I do like you. I just can’t fall in love with you.

He looked away.

They hadn’t talked for almost two days now. She’d tried to find him a couple of times, if only to ask after the harvester update, but their paths never crossed. Tactically, no doubt.

Soooo sweet.

Who even was she?

‘Are you two shagging or what?’ Fenella stage-whispered.

‘No! God, no.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I think I’d know.’

‘What are you waiting for, girl? Get in there.’ Fenella began to do a very disconcerting bouncy, thrusting thing with her hips.

Willa panic-laughed, trying to make her stop. ‘He doesn’t feel that way about me.’

Fenella belly-laughed, then pointed at Finn, who quickly turned away. ‘He can’t stop looking over here now that you’re with us. Face it, buttercup, when that man looks at you, he’s definitely picturing you naked.’

Willa pressed her hands to the bench to get up.

‘Cool your jets.’ Fenella ran her finger along her lower lip then, after a beat asked, ‘Do you mind if I have a go?’

‘Fen!’ ChiChi chided, briskly standing up and patting out her skirts. ‘You’ve got someone at home desperate to have you back in his arms.’

Fenella bristled. ‘I told you about my fiancé in confidence.’

The group fell silent. Fenella had never mentioned having a partner, let alone a fiancé.

Finn abruptly lobbed his axe into the stump he’d been chopping wood on and headed over to the outdoor tap for a drink of water, then disappeared around the corner.

‘But . . .’ ChiChi looked completely bewildered.

‘I’ve got cold feet, alright?’ Fenella threw her hands wide, accidentally whacking Willa in the face. She didn’t notice. ‘Shoot me. I don’t know if I want to marry him. How can I when every week for years I see this guy on telly and read about him in the books. A guy who’s so incredibly perfect. So unbelievably patient and loving, even if his wife is being a right royal pain in the arse.’

‘He did beat her once,’ Jules pointed out. ‘Like, full-on whipping.’

Fenella waved her hand as if one eighteenth-century flogging was dismissible. ‘They had sex after.’

‘Oh, love,’ Rosa cut in kindly. ‘Jamie’s a unicorn. As much as we adore him, he’s a fiction.’

‘I want what he and Claire have,’ Fenella insisted.

‘No one has that.’ Rosa looked round the group for support and received a couple of nods.