“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” Isobel reached out to touch the screen, as though she could touch her sister. “I know how hard it was for you growing up, looking after all of us when you were only a kid yourself. You gave up a lot to take care of us when I was so busy with Jack. I know you feel you want to have a break from responsibility, but Agnes, was it really all so bad?”
“No!” The answer was instant—she didn’t even need to think about it. “I love you guys to infinity. Hell, I’d die for you, no questions asked. It’s just that I have plans now. Things I’ve dreamed about doing since we were kids.” Like getting out of Scotland and getting away from a life that was one long struggle to survive.
“You know your plans can change, don’t you? Nobody would hold it against you if they did. And, on the flip side, no one will think you’re selfish if you hold on to those plans and see them through. You deserve to have the life you want, Aggie. There’s no need to feel guilty about it. You’ve earned it.” Isobel bit her bottom lip for a second before continuing. “Why don’t you take him up on his offer? Why don’t you spend the year with him, with no expectations for the future?”
Her chest tightened and her eyes stung. “I’m scared I’ll fall in love with him, Isobel.”
“Oh, honey, our parents really stuffed us up, didn’t they?”
Agnes nodded because her throat was too tight to answer.
“Not all men stop you from following your dreams,” Isobel said softly. “Not all men press you down until there’s nothing left of you.”
“If I fall in love with him, I’ll have to stay here.”
“No.” Isobel shook her head. “But you’d have to give him up to go. You know how this works. You can’t have everything in life; it’s all about negotiation and compromise. We learned that young. You’re smart, Aggie, and you’ve got time to think things through. Just make sure the dreams you’re following now are the ones you want as an adult, not the desperate dreams you had as a kid. And remember, whatever you do, whichever way you go, you’ll always have us at your back.”
“Even if I’m half a world away?”
“Even then.”
“Thanks, sis.” Agnes took a deep breath. “I have to get back to work.”
“Call anytime,” Isobel said. “I’m just sitting around incubating anyway.”
“Love you,” they both called out, and her phone went blank.
Agnes spent a few minutes staring out across the loch as the bitter chill from the wind ate right through her bones. As far back as she could remember, she’d always been the strong one. But, at that moment, she wouldn’t have minded if Logan had been there so he could hold her for a while. Sometimes she ached for someone who didn’t mind being strong for her, now and then, when she needed it. But Logan was a temptation she couldn’t afford to succumb to. No matter how hard he was to resist.
After clearing up her things, she headed back to work. And, still, that one question repeated in her head: ‘What do you want?’
Chapter 12
“I don’t understand women,” Logan said to his son’s football coach as they stood together on the sidelines during practice.
It had been a day since he’d told Agnes to call if she wanted him. She’d emailed Lake about thefts at the hotel, but hadn’t reached out to him. If he hadn’t been getting updates and random photos from Bernadette, he would have worried she’d skipped town.
“What?” the coach said.
“I said, I don’t understand women.”
Not many junior teams could boast an ex-premier league footballer as their coach, but Flynn Boyle had grown up in Invertary and, now that he was home, he wanted to give something back. Of course, most folk would say all the animals he rescued was giving back enough. Well, okay, only his wife said that, but she was the one overrun by them. Flynn was studying to become a veterinarian and was a magnet for other people’s unwanted pets. And injured wild animals. And, well, just any animal that wanted a free feed.
“What’s to understand?” Flynn said, his gaze on the field. “You tell them they’re pretty, give them chocolate, make a fuss when they do stuff, and keep them sexed up. It’s harder to look after a goat.”
“Why am I even talking to you about this?”
“Uh, because the only other guy in Invertary with as much experience with women as I have is Josh, and you don’t want to take advice from a guy who asked his manager to find him a wife.”
He had a point. “I didn’t ask you for advice. We’re just talking.”
“About your women problems.”
“It’s what guys do.”
“Since when? We deal with our women problems the same way we deal with everything else—a six-pack of beer, pizza, and a football game. After you’ve shouted at the idiots on the field for ninety minutes, everything’s fine again. Do you want to go watch a game?”
“No.” Well… “Depends on who’s playing.”
Flynn grinned as he slapped Logan on the back. “Congratulations, you still have your balls.”
They watched the practice play out in front of them for a few minutes, interrupted now and then by Flynn shouting orders at random players and sometimes at the referee. Seeing as the ref was his nine-year-old daughter, she often shouted back. Neither Logan nor the players questioned having such a young referee. It was well known that Katy Boyle knew more about football than everyone in Invertary, except her dad.
“I thought she’d have called by now,” Logan said, because he couldn’t leave the topic alone. No, he just had to keep picking at the scab until it bled.
“Maybe she’s busy,” Flynn said.
“There have been more jewelry thefts at the hotel, just cheap plastic stuff, but she didn’t even call me about those.”
“See? Busy. Dealing with thieves and Dougal.”
“She isn’t busy. She’s avoiding me and I don’t understand why. We have explosive chemistry. The kind that doesn’t come along every day. So what if I have kids? They’re mine to worry about. I’ve told her we could keep it on the down-low. I’ve told her we could have any kind of relationship she wants. I don’t see what the problem is.”
“Sorry, you lost me there for a minute,” Flynn said. “I was too busy watching that tackle your Drew made—the boy has skills. What were we talking about? Oh, aye, you want sex and Agnes doesn’t. Move on. Don’t waste your time.”
Logan frowned at him. “Is that what you did when Abby had second thoughts about your relationship?”
“You have to actually be in a relationship to have second thoughts about it,” Flynn said. “A couple of snogging sessions does not a relationship make.” He grinned. “That sounded like Yoda. He was wise. You should listen to him. I mean, me.” He took a deep breath and shouted, “Robby, pass the bloody ball.”
“She’s driving me crazy.” Logan stamped his feet to get some warmth into them. The football fields were beside the loch, on the edge of town and, for some reason, it always seemed colder there than anywhere else in Invertary.
“They’re designed to do that,” Flynn said.
“The first woman I’ve been seriously interested in since my ex-wife, and she’s as skittish as a horse who doesn’t like being ridden.”
Flynn turned to look at him, his overgrown hair flopping into his eyes. “You really need to work on your similes.”
“Should footballers even use words like simile? And you know what I mean anyway,” Logan grumbled.
“Aye, you’re horny, and Agnes finds you painfully resistible.”
“That’s it. I’m going to talk to Josh—he has to be better than this.” He turned to stalk off, but Flynn grabbed his jacket and yanked him back.
“I’ll be serious,” he said.
“Is that even possible?”
“Sadly, aye.” Flynn frowned at the field. “Wait a minute. Ref,” he shouted, “that was a foul.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Katy put her hands on the hips of her luminous pink strip and glared at her dad.
<
br /> “It was a total foul,” Flynn argued.
“I’m the referee,” Katy shouted, “and you’re the coach. You let me do my job, and I’ll let you do yours.”
“I’m pulling you as referee if you don’t call all the fouls.”
“And I’ll tell Mum you’re hiding orphaned baby mice in the garage.”
“Crap,” Flynn muttered. “Didn’t think she knew about those. Fine,” he shouted, “but I’m watching you.”
She tossed her hair at him and blew her whistle to start the game again.
“Look,” Flynn said once the game resumed. “You don’t need advice. You’re just looking for reassurance. But I can’t give you that because the only person who can guess what a woman will do is the woman herself. All I can say is that if you’re in this for the long game, then you need a strategy. Don’t make it up as you go. Nobody ever won the league without a strategy. Utilize your best players, work as a team, and take the ball home.” He slapped Logan on the shoulder.
“Are we still talking about Agnes?” Logan was genuinely confused.
“Aye.” Flynn gave him a look that said he thought Logan was dumber than dirt. “Use the resources you have around you to help Agnes make the right decision. Find out what she wants and give it to her. Support her, even when her ideas seem nuts. Get the town working on your side. Play for the cup, not just the match.”
Logan’s mind raced with all the things he could do to remind Agnes he was there and waiting for her call. He’d spend the evening planning, and then put it straight into effect in the morning. It wasn’t like he wanted to shove her into a decision—he’d been serious when he said he’d respect whatever she wanted to do, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep himself at the forefront of her mind.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he said, “but that actually helps.”
“Don’t sound so surprised. Just because I don’t want to talk about this crap, doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m talking about when I do. And you can tell Josh that.” He took a deep breath. “Robby, pass the damn ball. That’s the last time I’m telling you.”
Forty-eight hours. Two sleepless nights. That’s how long Agnes’ brain had been stuck on one continuously repeating question: ‘What do you want?’
She pushed back her chair and rested her forehead on her desk, when what she really wanted to do was bang it against the wood—repeatedly. She couldn’t go on like this. All she thought about was Logan. Memories of his kisses kept her awake at night, making her body burn to the point where her skin was so sensitive even the sheets rasped. Why did he have to be such a good kisser? Why couldn’t he have been one of those sloppy, wet kissers? Or one of those guys who thought shoving their tongue down your throat made them irresistible?
And his body? His body should be outlawed. All those firm, lean muscles. His thighs! Sweet heavens above, those thighs. And that backside of his. He had the perfect bubble butt. But it was his eyes that really drove her insane. Those long lashes, the way the color changed from gold to the deepest chocolate…
She groaned and thumped the desk with her fists. “This isn’t fair,” she whined. “Nobody could hold out against this.”
A knock at her door made her head jerk up. One of the waitresses stood in the doorway, a tray in her hand.
“Um, I’m just delivering your breakfast.” Ruby was very young and obviously scared out of her mind at being the one sent to deal with the manager.
Agnes sat up straight. “I didn’t order any breakfast.” In fact, she hadn’t even had time to grab a muffin before the calls started coming in about one problem or another.
“We know.” Ruby hesitantly entered the room to put the white-linen-covered tray on the desk. “Chef found a note this morning.”
Agnes waited a second, but further information was not forthcoming. “What did the note say?”
“Oh, that we’re to make sure to feed you every few hours, or you become hangry.” Ruby looked ready to bolt, but Agnes pinned her with a well-practiced stare.
“I don’t get hangry,” she snapped, watching as Ruby took two steps back.
“Okay,” the girl said slowly, and Agnes got the distinct impression she was being humored.
“Was the note signed?” she demanded.
Ruby shook her head. “But Chef thought better safe than sorry, so enjoy.” With that, she turned and practically ran from the office. “Someone will be over with your lunch,” she called, and then Agnes thought she heard her mutter, “Please not me.”
Everybody was so sensitive these days.
Agnes slid the tray toward herself and removed the napkin. An assortment of Danish pastries sat on a white plate beside a cup and saucer, milk jug and sugar bowl, and a French press filled with glorious black coffee.
“Bloody Logan,” she muttered. It had to have been his idea, and she wasn’t sure what to do about it other than ignore that he was behind it.
In the meantime, the coffee was calling to her. Eyes closing at the first glorious sip, she inhaled deeply. That was better. After two pastries that melted in her mouth, she had to admit she felt more human. Okay, so maybe there was something to this hangry thing after all.
Maybe.
Mid-morning, after doing a walk-through of the hotel to make sure everything was running smoothly, Agnes returned to her office. Only to stop dead as she entered.
She could have sworn she smelled Logan’s new deodorant.
Sniffing, she walked around the room. There was no sign of him or the source of the smell anywhere.
“Bernadette?” she shouted, and the receptionist came scurrying in. “Did you let someone into my office while I was gone?”
“No. Nobody’s come into the hotel since you went walkabout.”
“Then why does it smell like the ocean in here?”
“Eh.” Bernadette looked confused. “It smells normal to me.”
No help at all. “Go do something.” She ushered the young woman out of her office and closed the door behind her.
It had to be in her head, but she was sure she could smell Logan. She’d know that scent anywhere. And being surrounded by it was driving her crazy. It brought back memories of them wrapped around each other in her bed, exchanging kiss after kiss after kiss while she breathed him in.
Damn it.
He’d gotten into her office somehow. She knew it.
Agnes threw the windows wide open and sat down to work. Ten minutes later, her fingers were ice and she couldn’t stop her teeth from chattering. But the smell hadn’t receded. After closing her windows again, she cranked up the heating and grabbed her padded coat from the stand behind the door. She needed to escape the scent, give it time to disperse.
“I’m going up the street to buy wrapping paper for the raffle prizes,” she told Bernadette.
Who inexplicably held up her phone and snapped Agnes’ picture.
Every shop Agnes passed on the way to the newsagent had posters taped to their windows that hadn’t been there the day before. Apparently, the community center had decided to hold a last-minute movie night that evening, and they’d picked two romcoms for the event: Friends with Benefits and No Strings Attached.
Just when she was trying to get those concepts out of her head, she found herself confronted with them at every turn. This town was crazy. It was only a few weeks to Christmas, and they’d decided to show two very similar romcoms instead of a holiday-themed movie.
Agnes glared at the posters as she let herself into the newsagent, the only place in town where you could buy wrapping paper.
“Are you going to the movies tonight?” Maggie, one of the aging owners, asked when Agnes put the paper on the counter. Although she’d only been in town a few weeks, Agnes already knew most of the shopkeepers by name. Invertary was just that small.
“Uh, no.”
“Oh, but you should,” Maggie gushed. “I hear tell that you see Justin Timberlake’s backside! I’m not sure how much of Ashton Kutcher you see in his movie, b
ut we can compare. After we’ve watched both, there’s going to be a comparison discussion over eggnog. It sounds like fun.”
“Sorry, I’ll have to pass. I have things to do.” Like sitting alone in her room, staring at the tartan carpet and questioning her life choices.
“Oh, that’s a shame,” Maggie said. “When Logan put up the posters, he mentioned that you might enjoy the movies, and he said it would be a good way for you to meet some of the locals.”
She did not just say Logan’s name… “Who?”
“Logan,” Maggie said. “From Benson Security. I thought you knew him. It certainly sounded like you did.” She placed her hand on her chest. “Did I make a mistake?”
“No, not at all. I do know Logan.” And she was possibly going to kill him. “I’d better get back to the hotel. Enjoy your movies tonight.”
On her way out the door, Agnes grabbed a poster and took the damn thing with her as evidence. Once she’d calmed down, she planned to shove it up Logan’s backside.
Logan hadn’t been into the Benson Security office this morning. And none of the amused staff knew where he’d gone.
Typical.
There was nothing to do except go back to the office that smelled like the man who was driving her nuts.
She’d managed to miss lunch by being out of the office, but her luck didn’t hold out when dinnertime came around. Although, by the time the tray appeared on her desk, she realized she was actually quite hungry. Agnes might even have appreciated having the food delivered if it hadn’t been for the ocean-freaking-breeze smell permeating her office.
Staring down at the linen-covered tray, she wondered what to do about the man who seemed determined to remind her of him at every turn. His scent filled her office, his proposition was plastered all over town, and his care was in the meal sitting in front of her at that very minute. He was trying to wear her down.
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