Under a Storm-Swept Sky

by Beth Anne Miller

  And no Rory.

  “Though it sounds a little dull to me, having the weather be the same all year ’round,” he continued. “Won’t you miss the snow?”

  That was an easy one. “Ugh, snow in New York is miserable. It’s pretty when it’s falling and just after, but then it gets filthy and the roads are treacherous. No, I won’t miss that.”

  “You should see Skye in the winter, with the Cuillins covered in a blanket of snow, sparkling in the sunlight. All around you is blue sky and white snow, and you breathe in that cold, clean air, and you just…feel alive.”

  I closed my eyes and pictured it.

  Rory, in his winter gear, carrying an ice axe and wearing crampons on his boots, reaches the top of the Munro. The snow is pristine and unbroken all around because he’s the first person up there since the last snowfall. His cheeks and the tip of his nose are rosy from the cold. He turns, his grin stretching from ear to ear, and holds out a gloved hand—

  To me.

  Wait, what? No. I wouldn’t be climbing Munros in Scotland in the winter. I’d be in Miami, out on the beach with Carrie, checking out the guys playing beach volleyball, or maybe paddle-boarding, laughing at our friends back home who were shivering in the cold.

  I was here for Carrie, and I couldn’t forget that. I couldn’t forget that in a few days, I’d be heading back home to her, to begin the life that was waiting for me there.

  I looked down at my hands, sadness overwhelming me. “Carrie and I are supposed to go to Miami in a few weeks to look for an apartment.” I swallowed hard. “If she wakes up.”

  He tipped my chin up so our eyes met. “She will,” he said fiercely. “You’re going to have such an adventure to tell her about when you get home that she won’t have any choice but to wake up so she can hear all the details.”

  “I hope you’re right,” I whispered.

  He pulled me close, and we stayed like that, arms around each other, each lost in our own thoughts, until the mist dissipated.

  We retrieved our packs, and I stood a few feet back while Rory said one last goodbye to Connor, touching his heart and then touching his fingers to the stone. “Soraidh leat, mo bhràthar. Farewell, brother,” he murmured.

  I had a feeling that he would be back here again soon.

  The descent was challenging—one of the most difficult parts of the entire trail. There were sheer vertical cliffs on our left side, and the way down was over rocky ground, with no real path. After the first few minutes of trying to step down like a normal person would, I gave up and just scooted down on my butt until we reached a clear path that eventually led to a road and the car park for Bla Bheinn.

  I never was so happy to see pavement in my life.

  “It’s another two miles along this road to Torrin,” said Rory. “There’s a café there, as well as a few B&Bs. I know it’s only mid-afternoon, but I think I’ve had it for today, if that’s okay with you. We can have an early dinner—the café closes at five—and then…”

  And then… “Say no more. I’m in.”

  True to his word, less than an hour later, we reached the small village. As it was a weeknight, there was a vacancy at the B&B, a lovely en-suite room on the second floor with spectacular views of Bla Bheinn, nearby Loch Slapin, and the Red Cuillins.

  And a king-sized bed.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Rory

  “Well, I don’t think we have to worry that one of us will fall out of this bed, unlike the one in Sligachan,” said Amelia.

  “No, I think we’ll be all right,” I agreed. The bed was illuminated by the sunlight coming in from the above skylight like it was on display.

  As if I needed a reason to imagine all the things Amelia and I could do on that bed. As if I wasn’t instantly ready and dying to do all those things right now.

  I cleared my throat and looked away, taking her things out of my pack. “Uh, why don’t you have the first go at the shower? I want to check in with Scarlet and Tommy.” Or I might tumble her onto that bed and forget about getting food at the café or checking in—or anything else.

  She grinned. “Thanks. I feel so grungy,” she said, seemingly unaware of my inner turmoil. She plugged in her phone, grabbed her toiletry bag and clean clothes, and disappeared into the bathroom, exclaiming over the plush towels as the door closed behind her.

  I sank into the chair in the corner and pulled out my phone. There were texts from both Scarlet and Tommy, letting me know they’d finished the trek and asking where we were.

  I plugged my phone into the charger and dialed Scarlet. She answered on the second ring. “Rory! Where are you? How’s Amelia?”

  “Hey Scarlet. We’re in Torrin, and staying here tonight. Amelia’s doing okay. “She’s been”—brave, strong, amazing, incredible, everything—“a real trouper.”

  “How long until you finish?”

  “I think two more days. We’ll probably camp out at Boreraig tomorrow night, and make Broadford the day after. I don’t think she’s up for a twelve-mile day tomorrow.” And I’m not ready to say goodbye to her.

  “Okay. It sounds like you have everything under control.”

  “As much control as you can have with the weather on Skye,” I said dryly. “Speaking of which, the cliffs between Camasunary and Elgol are impassable. The storm the other night caused a huge amount of erosion.”

  “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll spread the word and let the Mountain Rescue folks know as well. So…does that mean you went over Bla Bheinn?” she asked hesitantly. Scarlet knew about my brother, had respected my wishes never to go up there.

  “We did.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “I am, actually. It wasn’t easy, but I’m glad I finally did it.” I didn’t tell her we were delayed by the mist—she’d only worry, even though it had already happened, and we’d made it through okay. “We’re both pretty knackered.”

  “I can imagine. Amelia did okay with the climb?”

  “She did. We took it slow.”

  “Good. She does sound like a trouper. And you are, too, Rory. I’m really proud of you. Go get some rest, and let me know when you reach Broadford.”

  “Will do.”

  I dialed Tommy next. He answered before it even rang on my end. “Rory! Where the hell are you?”

  “Hi to you, too. We’re in Torrin.” I heard the clink of glass in the background. “Are you back in Sligachan?” Realistically, Tommy could have been in a pub in Broadford, but he hated to be alone, so I figured he was with Gav.

  “Aye, Gav and I are having a few pints and gossiping about you.” Wonderful. “You said you’re in Torrin?”

  “Yeah, we got in a little while ago.”

  “We were just chatting with some trekkers who said the path from Camasunary to Elgol was impassable after the storm the other night. They backtracked to Sligachan.”

  “I know it is. I just called Scarlet to check in and told her the same thing so she can spread the word. I nearly went over the fucking cliff.”

  “Christ, Rory. You okay?”

  “I’m fine. Wrenched my shoulder a bit, and have a few scrapes, but I’m otherwise okay.”

  “How the hell did you get to Torrin, then? Did you just say fuck it all and hitch a ride from the Slig?”

  “No.”

  “Wait, are you saying…”

  “We went over Bla Bheinn.”

  Silence. Then, “Are you all right?” Same question Scarlet had asked, but I wouldn’t be able to bluff my way through it with Tommy.

  “I am now. It was…hard, but when I got up there, it was like…”

  “Like what?”

  “Like he was there with me, and it was okay, you know?” That didn’t even begin to touch on what that moment on the summit had felt like, but I knew Tommy would get it.

  “Aye, I know,” he whispered.

  “I needed to do it, Tommy.”

  “After all this time, I just never thought…”

  “D
on’t be mad.”

  “What? Why the fuck would I be mad?”

  “I know you wanted to go up there with me, and I know I told you no every time you asked. And the last time…”

  Even though Tommy hadn’t witnessed what happened to Connor, it wasn’t easy for him to go over Bla Bheinn, and he’d only done it a few times. He’d wanted us to go together to pay our respects, and I’d never been able to. The last time he asked, I’d angrily told him I’d let him know when I was ready and he needed to lay off.

  “I’m not mad, Rory,” he said quietly. “I wanted you to go up there because I always knew you needed to face it before you could truly move on. And I didn’t want you to do it alone. I’m just glad you did it, and that you had someone you loved with you when you did.”

  “What?” Did he just say…?

  “You heard me. And don’t try to deny it. That mountain has been your nightmare—the monster looming over you in the dark—for years. There’s no way you’d suddenly decide to face it unless it was for someone you love.”

  A series of images flashed through my mind like a slideshow. They were all of Amelia: the flush of irritation on her cheeks when I’d scolded her on the first days of the trek, the awe in her eyes when she’d stood on the ridge and watched the eagle soaring below, tears streaking her face when she’d told me what happened to Carrie. Her eyes burning with anger when I’d talked about my father, the way she’d cried for me when I’d told her about Connor. Her brave smile when she’d hurt her knee, the trust she’d given me when I’d said we’d be okay in the fog, her body soft and languid with pleasure after we’d made love. How she would look in that shower right now, with water cascading down her naked body.

  We’d shared so much in our short time together: arguments, fear, physical hardship, grief, triumph, passion, friendship.

  And I wanted to share so much more with her.

  I wanted to climb Ben Nevis with her, hear her shrieking with laughter as I dunked her in a cold loch on a warm summer day, watch the sun come up over the Red Cuillins with her after a night of making love in our tent, share a flask of whisky under a blanket in front of a crackling fire on a long winter night.

  I wanted to wake up with her in my arms every day.

  “Rory, you still there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re not denying it?”

  I sighed. “No.” There was no point in denying what was true.

  I was in love with Amelia.

  It didn’t seem possible, but somehow, it was. That Tommy didn’t hassle me about it was an even stronger indication that it was real.

  “What are you going to do about it?” he asked.

  “About what?”

  “Don’t be dense. You know what I mean.”

  I knew. “Nothing. She has a great job waiting for her back in the States with her best friend.”

  “So that’s it? You get to Broadford and then you shake hands and say it was nice to meet her, and then you hand her off to Scarlet to take her back to Fort William—after, of course, you send her a friend request on Facebook?”

  The thought of doing that was like a knife to my chest—a literal pain that made it hard to breathe. “What am I supposed to do, Tommy? I told you, she has a—”

  “‘Great job lined up.’ Yeah, I heard you the first time.”

  “So why are you even asking?”

  “Because you’ve been alone for far too long.”

  “I haven’t been alone—I have you.” I knew I was being obtuse, but I wasn’t prepared to have this conversation right now.

  “Don’t be a dick, Rory. You know what I mean. And I’m not going to sleep with you, even if you ask nicely.”

  “I do know what you mean, Tommy. Believe me, I know exactly how alone I’ve been and for exactly how long.”

  “So if you’re in love with her, and if you have the slightest inkling that she might feel the same way, you don’t just let that go without even trying, or you’ll regret it forever.”

  “I can’t think about this right now.”

  “That’s fine. You’re in Torrin, so you have a whole day to think about it,” he said sarcastically.

  “Two,” I muttered.

  “What’s that?”

  “Two days.” Only two days. “We’re in Torrin tonight at a B&B, and then we’ll camp out tomorrow, and then reach Broadford the next day. I don’t want her to do twelve miles on that knee in one day.”

  “A B&B, huh? Are you sharing a room?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Aye, we’re sharing a room. Are you happy?”

  “Yes. And so is Gav. He tried to bet me that you were, but I didn’t take that bet. He’s giving you a thumbs-up, by the way.”

  “The two of you are numpties,” I said mildly.

  “Yeah, we are. Where is she now?”

  “In the shower.”

  He scoffed, and I could almost hear his eyes roll. “What the fuck are you still doing on the phone with me, then? Tell her I said hi, and I’ll see you in Broadford in two days.”

  “All right. See you then.”

  “And Rory?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Go get wet.”

  “Dammit, Tommy,” I muttered, my whole body jumping to attention as I imagined doing just that.

  He was still laughing when I disconnected the call. I glanced at the bathroom door. I could still hear the shower running as Amelia scrubbed away two days’ worth of mud, sweat, and trail grime.

  Go get wet, Tommy had said.

  Aye, it was time to get wet.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Amelia

  I stood under the spray, letting the hot water work its magic on me. It seemed like every muscle in my body was sore. Thank God Rory had called an early end to the day; I couldn’t have gone much farther.

  There was a knock at the door. Shit, I hadn’t even washed myself or my hair yet. “Be out in a few,” I called, reaching for the shampoo. The bathroom door opened. “Sorry, Rory, I know I’m taking forever. I’ll be quick now.”

  I didn’t hear him leave, so I put down the shampoo and peered around the curtain. And froze.

  He stood on the tile floor, wearing only his boxer briefs.

  Wordlessly, slowly, deliberately, I drew back the curtain, surprising myself a little with my boldness.

  His eyes smoldered as they raked over my naked body from head to toe, leaving me hot and aching for him.

  “I think you’re a bit overdressed,” I said.

  His lips curving in a slow smile, he hooked his thumbs in his waistband and drew his boxers down and off. And then it was my turn to ogle him as he stood before me—from the top of his lovely hair, down his lean, strong body to his feet, and then slowly back up. It was thrilling to see how much he wanted me; the evidence was right there before me, proud and unmistakable.

  His eyes flared, and I realized I was unconsciously licking my lips. He stepped into the tub and backed me into the wall, his hands cupping my face, his lips taking mine in a kiss so hot, so hungry, it staggered me.

  Now he was the bold one.

  His hands dropped to caress my breasts, and then he tore his mouth from mine to follow the path his hands had taken. I held the back of his head, his wet curls twining around my fingers as he set me on fire with his touch.

  His fingers skipped down my ribs to my waist, and then he lifted me off my feet. My legs instinctively wrapped around his hips as he pressed me into the wall, the tiles cool against my heated skin, his body throbbing against my center. He lifted his head to kiss me again, but this time slowly, as if he had all the time in the world.

  But I didn’t.

  I skimmed my hands down his body, smiling as he sucked in a breath. “You started it,” I said as I stroked him.

  “So I did,” he replied, and then it was his turn to smile and my turn to gasp as his fingers found me. He caressed me until I was writhing against the wall.

  “Rory, please,” I hissed. “I need you.”
>
  “Not yet.” His fingers continued to torment me until I came apart, my hands clutching helplessly at his shoulders.

  I felt his fingers leave me, and I watched as he reached around the curtain for a condom he’d left on the edge of the sink. I took it from his hand and put it on him, slowly, savoring the feel of him pulsing in my hands, smiling at the knowledge that I was driving him as crazy as he’d driven me.

  And then he was inside me, both of us gasping as our bodies slid together until we were fully joined. I tightened my legs around his waist, ignoring the ache in my knee. He cradled the back of my head with one hand while the other supported my back.

  “Open your eyes, Amelia,” he said. I met his gaze—so green, so intense, I couldn’t look away. And I didn’t want to. I drew him deeper, my fingers trailing up and down his spine as he moved within me, his slow, languid pace belying his earlier urgency.

  Time seemed to stand still as he made love to me, the water cascading over us. I arched against him, my body desperate for more. “Rory, please,” I gasped. I was so close…

  Finally, he gave in and began to move faster. I cupped his face, keeping my eyes locked to his, crying out his name as I tumbled over the edge. He rocked against me once more, then buried his face in my shoulder as he followed me into oblivion.

  I ran my fingers through his wet hair, unable to do much else. My mind was spinning. “Rory, that was…” I didn’t even know what to say.

  He raised his head and looked at me, his eyes back to their usual gray-green. “Amazing? Fantastic? Brilliant?”

  There was a vulnerability in his eyes that belied his light tone. And while it had been amazing, fantastic, and brilliant, those weren’t the words that had come to mind. Nor were they the words he wanted to hear.

  I smoothed his hair back from his face and stared into those luminous eyes. “Transcendent. The most intense experience I’ve ever had.”

  His beautiful smile told me that I’d said the right thing. “It’s been a hell of an intense day,” he said.

  “And after all that, I haven’t actually gotten clean yet.”