Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Maybe three bottles of wine, I thought as I strolled down the cobbled lane between the old jail turned museum and Chen and Wang Lei’s Chinese restaurant. The lane was lit by Victorian-style lampposts and protected me from the icy wind.
The swanky wine store lit up like a beacon in the dark lane, and I hurried inside out of the cold. I gave the owner a polite smile and nod, then rounded the shelves and shelves of whisky to check out the massive wall of wine at the back. The expensive stuff was in a locked wine cellar, the cheaper stuff on the adjacent wall on open shelving.
I halted at the sight of a woman.
She stood with her back to me, perusing the cheaper wine.
Tumbles of familiar red hair fell down her narrow back from beneath a dark green beanie. She wore a short puffer jacket. Tight, dark blue jeans perfectly hugged her pert, wee arse. On her feet she wore the local fashion — hiking boots.
My pulse raced, and I was just about to turn quietly and leave when I saw her back straighten abruptly. As if she felt me, she slowly turned around.
Monroe Fucking Sinclair.
Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, her big gray eyes bright beneath the store lights. She looked so young, nowhere near the thirty-seven I knew her to be. Monroe was a natural beauty. The kind of beauty I hadn’t come across since, and I’d worked with and met some of the most beautiful women in the world.
She really hadn’t changed. It was like staring into the face of nineteen-year-old Roe. My best friend.
Who had abandoned me.
Aye, this was the woman who taught me a very valuable lesson.
I scowled at her, deciding at that moment I wouldn’t be chased out of the store, or Ardnoch, because she’d decided to come back.
Ignoring her, I strolled over to the large wine cellar and perused the expensive stuff.
Yet I could barely take in the labels. I could feel her attention on me. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as the cheek facing her grew hot. At the sound of her footsteps drawing near, I glanced sharply at her.
Monroe stared up at me and licked her full lips nervously. My eyes narrowed on her mouth. I hated she could make me feel so much, even after all these years.
“I … uh … I felt … I just wanted to acknowledge you.” Monroe shrugged wearily. “We live in the same town, Brodan. People talk. I just wanted to say hello and be civil to you.”
Hearing her voice after all these years was a punch to the gut. My throat felt thick with emotion and I was afraid if I spoke, she’d hear the roughness. She’d know being in her presence affected me beyond bearing. There was no way I’d reveal that to her.
So, I looked right through her and turned my back on her. As I strode toward the exit, I caught sight of her reflection in the store window. Monroe clamped her teeth down on her lower lip, something she’d always done when she was fighting back tears.
Jesus Christ.
I would not feel guilty I vowed, as I marched out of the shop. You have nothing to feel guilty about, I reminded myself.
I wasn’t the one who left her.
She left me.
She’d ignored me when I reached out to her.
Almost twenty years of the strongest bond I’d ever felt with someone, and she left me like it was easy.
Crying babies had a way of making you forget anything but the sound of crying babies.
My nieces were apparently already best buddies because as soon as one started crying, the other wailed right along with her. Fuck, my head was nipping. I had no idea how my siblings were coping with this.
Despite dinner being hosted at Robyn and Lachlan’s, Regan was cooking. She’d smiled gratefully at me when I deposited three bottles of wine I’d bought from Morag’s on the island in front of her, and Eredine had swooped in to pour those of us drinking a glass before dinner even started.
It might have had something to do with the cacophony of infant indignation.
Though Christ knew what they had to be pissed off about.
“They’re so loud, Mum!” Eilidh stood at Regan’s side, her cute face scrunched up in horror.
“You were loud once too,” Thane reminded his daughter as he grabbed two glasses of wine and walked over to our sister to offer her one.
Arro shook her head, waving the wine away, as she watched Mac sway their daughter from side to side. He murmured words I couldn’t hear, but Skye’s crying petered off.
Vivien’s, not so much.
Robyn held her while Lachlan hovered over them, looking as if he hadn’t slept in ten years.
To be fair, they all looked like they hadn’t slept in ten years. All four of them had taken maternity leave. Lachlan had even hired a new hospitality manager at Ardnoch. Aria Howard, the efficient and very attractive daughter of legendary director Wesley Howard. He was a member of Ardnoch Estate’s board and owned one of the multimillion-pound homes on the estate’s coastal land. Lachlan had introduced me to Aria before Robyn gave birth. He was a control freak, so he was nervous about handing over the reins, but I’d promised I’d keep an eye out for him. So far, Aria was running the place as efficiently as Lachlan would. Even more so because she wasn’t distracted by a newborn.