I'll See You Again: A Scottish rock star, standalone opposites-attract romance (Reigning Hearts Book 4)

by K. G. Fletcher

  Knowing the last thing Mac needed was a whiny, needy girlfriend, she let him know she’d be there for him and left it at that. But her insecurities and doubts were getting the best of her. At first, she chalked up his lack of response to everything he was dealing with back home. She couldn’t imagine burying her closest friends or anyone in her family, the very thought crippling. As much as she wanted to text or call every day, she was determined to let him make the first move when he was ready, keeping her tenacious heart high on a shelf during this unprecedented time. But after the first week went by without a peep from him, the worry deep within gnawed at her conscious. She decided to reach out to Ben Hightower to find out if he really was okay. Ben was cordial in his text response, letting her know Mac was a bit overwhelmed but handling things with the strength and politeness he was known for. Feeling stupid for caving, she pleaded with Ben not to tell Mac she was checking up on him, the Englishman assuring her he would do no such thing. By the end of week two, she’d convinced herself Reid Macpherson had forgotten about her, leaving her heart heavy and burdened with her own deep sorrow.

  After a reasonably easy Saturday afternoon wedding to coordinate, there was nothing on the schedule until the next weekend. As she was loading a bridesmaid’s car trunk with several wedding presents, her mother approached, carrying a handful of gifts wrapped in different shades of white and silver.

  “This is the last of them,” she announced cheerfully, allowing Nicky to take them out of her arms one by one and carefully arrange them in the trunk so they wouldn’t get damaged. Closing the compartment with a loud thud, Nicky wiped her hands together.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The two walked back toward the side entrance, the door propped open to let in the crisp autumn air.

  “You still heading over to Amber’s place?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why don’t you take her a piece of that yummy wedding cake leftover from the reception?”

  Nicky stopped, a vacant look crossing her face as she moved through her robotic routine. Looking up at her mother, she nodded. “I think I will.”

  Marjorie reached out to rub her daughter’s arm. “Still no word?”

  Nicky swallowed and fingered the pendant around her neck again. It had become an odd mannerism that happened every time she thought or spoke about him. “He knows how to get in touch with me.”

  Her mother’s brow furrowed, and she sighed. “It’s a lot, sweetie. Give him time…”

  “But it’s been two weeks,” Nicky lamented through gritted teeth. “I know, I know…, I sound like a spoiled brat not getting my way. But why won’t he talk to me about it? Why won’t he pick up the phone and send me a simple text, or call me so we can talk? He said he loved me, Mom. But when you love someone, truly love someone, you don’t shut them out like this, right?” Crossing her arms across her chest, she bowed her head and exhaled. “I’m sorry. I just…miss him.” Her voice trailed off.

  “I know you do.” Marjorie tenderly pushed a lock of hair over Nicky’s shoulder. “Go out tonight. Have some fun. This, too, shall pass, and when you look back on it someday, you might be able to understand it all a little bit better. For now, don’t dwell. He’ll reach out when he’s strong enough. I guarantee it.”

  Nicky pressed her teeth into her lower lip and walked into her mother’s embrace, thankful for her caring nature. “Thanks, Mom,” she mumbled, allowing her tight shoulders to finally relax. It would be good to get out and not think so much – she needed to laugh and throw back a couple of beers. She needed a distraction. And she knew the perfect place where she was always welcome.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The fall rush of gold and crimson leaves were nothing but a memory as a few stragglers lingered on barren branches. The steadily dropping temperatures of the oceanic climate chilled Mac to the bone, the last bits of fading autumn color peppering the Scottish landscape. Burrowing his chin into the thin scarf tied around his neck, he continued to walk along the unnamed road with a black umbrella perched above his head, barely keeping him dry through the pelting rain. The day was dreich, wet and cold, typical for Aberdeen this time of year, the brooding gray sky matching his somber mood.

  The old fourteenth-century church ruins on the cemetery property came into view, the ancient building nothing but an empty shell with an equally vacant bell tower. The views of the meandering river beyond the slight rise of the graveyard revealed the vast countryside that went on as far as the eye could see. Scanning the rolling hills beyond the ancient crosses and substantial headstones covered in lichen, Mac closed his eyes and breathed in the earthy scent of heath and bracken as he mustered the strength he needed to get through this day. It was time to say goodbye.

  Walking between the large slabs of limestone marking the graves in tidy rows along the thick carpet of wild grasses, he could see the stark patch of brown in the corner, the excavated mound of earth where James was laid to rest. A handful of prickly purple thistle laid on the heap, a love token from Shannon who came every day, the widow marking her husband’s grave with the native flower. Mac stood at the foot of the burial and listened to the rain come down all around him, the smell of damp earth permeating the air.

  Since burying his cousin during the private ceremony over a week ago, Mac was in a constant struggle to let go. His psyche couldn’t comprehend the devastating loss, his mind in a perpetual state of limbo. He attended every single burial of each of his bandmates over the last two weeks and personally visited family members and close friends, assuring them the deaths of their loved ones would not be in vain – that he would make sure their memories would never be forgotten. The weight of this inequity was intrusive, almost paralyzing. His uncle called it “survivor’s guilt.”

  Mac struggled to understand why he survived, and his band did not. Was he even worthy of survival? Sure, he felt relief and appreciation he’d been spared, but he also felt enormous guilt and shame for having those feelings when everyone in his band was dead.

  He was tired – so very tired. The constant barrage of the entire world was waiting for him to make a move—get back to living or fade into oblivion.

  Mac cleared his throat and clutched the handle of the umbrella tightly. Looking around the perimeter of the morose scenery, he made certain he was alone. “James…,” he started, his cousin’s name coming out in a groveled whisper. “I’ve come to say goodbye to ye.”

  Hot tears began to trickle down his cheeks into his beard. God, hadn’t he cried enough for a lifetime? He’d held it together during the service, stoic in his state of duress so he could be present to comfort Shannon, and his uncle. But it was times like this when he was alone with his own thoughts and demons that the tempest of emotions was uncontrollable.

  Swiping at his face with his sleeve, he continued. “If ye can hear me, I want ye to know, I won’t let ye down.”

  He swallowed and nodded as the downpour fell steadily all around him as if convincing himself. “Ye told me once to be canny, or I might fall in love.” An image of Nicky’s dimpled smile came to mind causing his breath to hitch. The very thought of her summoned immediate calmness. “And that’s exactly what I did. I fell in love with her, James.”

  Mac didn’t mean to keep Nicky in the dark these past two weeks. He just didn’t want to suck her into the undertow of his darkest days and see him flailing. If he could just get through the mourning and the funerals without completely losing his shit, he knew he could find his way back to her again. The long, unmarked road that lay ahead was daunting, but he knew with Nicky by his side, he could somehow move on and dare to live again.

  “Ye told me to trust ye when ye advised me to stay in America. Ye told me I could thank ye later.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he mustered the strength to utter the words that had been on his mind since he boarded the private plane back in New York and flew over the ocean to his homeland. They were words he needed to say once and for all.

&
nbsp; “Well, I’m thankin’ ye right now. Thank ye, James. Thank ye – for always having my back – for being my truest brother, my flesh and blood. Thank ye – for telling me to stay…,” he choked. “…so that I could live.”

  Scanning the horizon one last time, he exhaled a long breath. “It’s time for me to go now.” Standing tall, his final words caught in his throat. “Be at peace, dear cousin.”

  ***

  The Good Pub was practically empty, the odd assortment of local patrons spread out in the dimly lit space content to sip their cocktails and watch the baseball playoff game on the flat-screen television above the bar. Sliding onto a vacant barstool, Nicky cleared her throat, gaining Amber’s attention. When her friend stopped loading a shelf with clean glasses and turned around, the ear-splitting grin on her face was infectious.

  “Hey, you!” she squealed, as if happy to see her.

  “Hey, yourself. This is for you.” Nicky slid a piece of wedding cake covered in plastic wrap across the bar. “A peace offering – for going dark on you.”

  “No, you didn’t,” she squealed again, eyeing the plate before grabbing it and ripping the top off. Bringing it up to her face, she inhaled the scent and closed her eyes. “Lemon. God, you know me so well, and for the record, you’re forgiven.” Snatching a rolled-up napkin with silverware tucked inside, she flung the fabric causing the cutlery to clatter on the wooden bar top. Picking up the fork, she raked it over the cake and closed her lips around the decadent bite. “Damn, girl,” she moaned with her mouth full. “How are you not five hundred pounds with this sweetness tempting you all the time?”

  Nicky laughed, taking in her friend’s animated expressions. Their pleasant banter was natural, not forced. There was no need to go into a long explanation about her recent absence. Amber understood – and it felt good. “Everything in moderation.”

  “Mmmmm,” Amber agreed, licking butter cream frosting off the fork. “What can I get you? Anything you want, on the house.”

  “I’m craving the cider tonight.”

  Amber nodded and reached for a tall lager glass. “Tis the season.” When she started to pull the lever on the tap, white foam sputtered out of the nozzle. “Shit. I forgot to change out the keg earlier.”

  “I can drink something else.”

  “Nonsense! It will only take me a minute.” Her spirited friend jogged toward the swivel doors leading to the kitchen. “Don’t let anyone near my cake!” she yelled over her shoulder.

  “I won’t!” Nicky giggled. With a sigh, she looked up at the baseball game. Uninterested, she shifted her focus and took in the fall decorations Amber and her team had started to assemble in the cozy bar in anticipation of the annual Good Pub Halloween party. Orange twinkle lights were run among the shelves of liquor bottles, and a giant plastic pumpkin with a smiley face was situated by the cash register with a taped-on sign marked, “tips.” Cobwebs, witches, skeletons, and grinning black cats were stuck to the walls and doors. Halloween was in a few days, and Nicky looked forward to the annual party with everyone from the cooks and the wait staff to the local patrons and tourists dressed up in ridiculous costumes. It was small-town charm at its best but with cocktails.

  “Howdy.” A nerdy voice interrupted, causing her to halt her perusal of Halloween décor. Saddling up next to her was Russell Ingram, one of the caretakers of Bannerman Island. The last time she saw him was when she and Mac had their romantic picnic on the ridge, and he so rudely interrupted them.

  “Hey, Russ,” she politely greeted. Suddenly, she wasn’t in the mood for a cider anymore. The onslaught of memories of that first day with Mac started to run amok in her head.

  “I’m glad I ran into you. I’ve been meaning to apologize for that day on the summit a couple of months ago – the day you were picnicking up there.”

  Wide-eyed, Nicky swiveled on her stool to face him. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I was kind of rude that day. You know you’re not supposed to go up there, but if you would have told me it was Reid Macpherson who was with you, I could have bent the rules.”

  Nicky fingered the pendant at her neck. Even the mention of Mac’s full name had her coming undone. “Why? Because he’s famous?” She didn’t mean for her words to be so snippy.

  “Well, yeah. It’s not every day Cold Creek has a real celebrity in town.” He grinned back at her.

  Russ was dressed casually in blue jeans and a fitted sweater that looked like something from an 80s sitcom. His dark, cropped hair was neatly combed back from his face, and he smelled like her late grandfather, the potent aftershave hard not to notice. Growing up in the same small town with the lanky guy who had a fondness for the outdoors was comforting in a weird way, like knowing your brother had your back. Russell Ingram was friendly enough, but she had never been remotely attracted to him. Taking in his average brown eyes and smooth face dotted with several moles, she wondered if she could ever acquiesce and settle for a small-town guy like him. What would life be like tethered to a simple man who was content to live his life as a caretaker of a tourist attraction dressed in khaki shorts and hiking boots on most days – not that there was anything wrong with that. Could she be happy with someone like him after falling in love with someone like Mac? She suddenly felt bad for assessing Russ in such a way, and mentally admonished herself. He was a good guy.

  “There, that should do it,” Amber announced as she came back behind the bar and pulled the lever again. After a surge of more foam, a golden stream of ale poured forth, and she snuck a glass underneath, filling it to the rim. “Hey, Russ. What can I get you tonight?”

  “I’ll have the same,” he said with a smile.

  “Cool.” After sliding the first glass toward Nicky, she grabbed a second glass and tilted it underneath the spout, filling it in no time. “There you are. You want me to start a tab?”

  “Sure,” he replied, bringing the frothy rim to his lips and taking a sip. Nicky watched his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallowed. Why was she observing his every move?

  “So, I’ll be expecting you both at the annual costume party on Halloween. I’ll be doing two-for-one shots, and the prize for the best costume is double from last year, fifty dollars instead of twenty-five.” Amber grinned at them, resting her forearms on the lacquered bar top before she remembered the piece of cake and picked up her fork.

  “You betcha,” Russ enthusiastically replied. “I’ve got my costume all ready to go. It’s a humdinger.”

  Nicky looked at Amber, pressing her lips together to thwart off a smile, amused by his choice of word.

  “A ‘humdinger’?” Amber repeated, shoving a bite of cake into her mouth. “What could it be, Nick?” Her eyes were wide, her voice high-pitched as she blatantly teased Russ.

  “I’m not going to let the cat out of the bag. You’ll have to wait and see. Are you coming to the party, Nicky?” he asked, eyeing her from the side.

  “Of course. Amber always throws the best Halloween parties. It’s a staple in Cold Creek, you know that.” Her focus shifted to Amber. “Speaking of which, I have a costume theme in mind for the party if you’re interested.”

  One of the cooks poked his head out of the swinging doors gaining Amber’s attention. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.” Shoving another bite of cake into her mouth, she hummed as she trotted to the kitchen.

  “No worries,” Nicky assured. As she started to take a sip of her drink, Russ spoke.

  “So, how is he, anyway?”

  “Who?” Nicky asked, miffed Russ was trying to get her to dish about Mac.

  “What do you mean, ‘who?’ Reid Macpherson, who else? It’s horrible what happened. The entire town couldn’t believe he was here in Cold Creek during the crash…thank God, right? Is he okay?”

  “As far as I know, he’s fine. He’s, uh, back in Scotland.” She really didn’t want to talk about Mac, and fingered her glass nervously, the reality of not knowing how he was punching her in the gut.

  “Will he be
coming back? I mean, you’re a couple, right? What’s it like to date a real-life celebrity, anyway?” Russ’s eyes gleamed just like those hungry reporters as the scent of Old Spice swirled underneath her nostrils, making her grimace. No, she could never date a man like Russ.

  “I, uh. I don’t know.” Taking a large gulp of her drink, she set the glass back on the bar and slid off her stool. “I forgot I have to be somewhere. Can you please tell Amber I’ll call her later?”

  “What? Nah, don’t leave, Nicky. Stay and finish your drink – my treat.”

  Rushing toward the door, she could hear Russell holler, “Alrighty then, see you at the Halloween party!”

  Once outside, Nicky inhaled a deep cleansing breath, thankful to be away from the geeky man. She shouldn’t have come out tonight – she wasn’t ready. It was all too fresh in people’s minds, and there would always be questions about her and Mac’s relationship.

  Fingering the necklace at her throat, she looked both ways before crossing the street, fighting back the warm surge of tears threatening to surface. Her life in small-town America was forever altered because of a famous foreign rock star – and nothing would ever be the same.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “Oh, my god!” Nicky exclaimed, rushing across the threshold of Stone Farm into Fiona’s arms. “You look so good!”

  “And you look exactly like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz,” Fiona laughed, eyeing Nicky’s costume.

  “The one and only,” she responded, turning from side to side for full effect. Her blue and white pinafore hung over crinolines right above her knees, her long legs bare, and her feet covered with lacy ankle socks and mock ruby-red slippers. Her hair was pulled back from her face, half of it done in a French braid, the other half hanging over her shoulders in big, bouncy curls. A small wicker basket sat in the crook of her arm with a little stuffed dog sitting inside. She’d had fun coming up with the costume theme, glad her friends Fiona and Chris were onboard last minute with the idea, too.