A Brit Unexpected (Castle Calder Book 2)

by Brenda St John Brown

  I focus on Bea because Scarlett’s eating a piece of toast and it reminds me I haven’t eaten since breakfast. “I don’t understand how I’m supposed to go and pretend everything’s fine, knowing he’s leaving and I’ll probably never see him again.”

  Even saying the words makes my stomach hurt.

  “What if you approached it as a kind of last hurrah?” Bea suggests. “You seem to really like him.”

  “You think?” I smile a little and roll my eyes.

  “Won’t it be worse if you bail?” Scarlett says in between bites. “At least this way you can say goodbye and get closure.”

  Bea nods. “There’s a lot to be said for closure.”

  My mum died from being hit by a car when she was in New York on a business trip, so I know all about regrets and missed opportunities to say goodbye. The chance for closure is the one argument that’s making me consider meeting Greyson after all. “But how do I mention the whole Australia thing? He’s had a million chances to tell me and he hasn’t.”

  “Maybe he’ll tell you this weekend?” Bea says.

  “At the end of the day you have to decide if you think it’s a lie of omission and if you can live with it,” Scarlett says, taking her final bite of toast. “This whole thing was meant to be a temporary arrangement to solve a very specific problem. I doubt he thought it would turn into anything more.”

  But now that it has, my expectations have changed accordingly.

  “Maybe he doesn’t realize you don’t see it as a temporary arrangement anymore.” Bea’s tone is gentle, but it slices through me nonetheless.

  “This isn’t me being delusional.” I sit up straight on my light blue sofa. “I thought he was–”

  “Hot?” Scarlett laughs and Bea smiles in her little square.

  “Different.” As I say it, Bea and Scarlett’s smiles disappear. “And I get that I could ask him straight out what the deal is with Australia, but I thought we were at a point where he’d tell me something like that without me having to find out from a tabloid.”

  Scarlett straightens and brings the screen close to her face. “Okay, real talk. He tells you he’s going to Australia. What then?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. Filming is six months minimum, probably more since this is some kind of epic film.”

  “Would you want to maintain some kind of long-distance relationship?” Bea asks.

  I shake my head again. “No. Not when things between us are so new. It would be too hard.”

  “Well, isn’t that your answer then?” Scarlett asks. Her tone is gentle, but her eyes are wide. “If he’s going to Australia, this is your swan song weekend anyway.”

  Bea nods. “And maybe that’s why he didn’t tell you.”

  Because he knew it would be too hard. On both of us. I let out a long breath, letting my cheeks puff out. “So I go and make memories, Australia be damned?”

  “I would,” Bea says. “You’ll regret if you don’t go. And besides, the article just says he’s in talks for the part. A million things could happen.”

  “I’m not sure he has that many options, honestly.” The whole fake relationship thing started over the skittishness of producers to work with him if he was involved in a stalking scandal. And even though Alexa’s stopped even mentioning Greyson’s name, that’s the kind of thing that takes time to fade away completely. “So if he’s been talking to this producer for a while, chances are it will go ahead.”

  “You might get a vacation Down Under out of it?” Scarlett laughs. “And I’m not talking down under Greyson Vaughn either.”

  I laugh, but I don’t see that in my future. If Greyson goes to Australia, he’s gone. Period. My stomach twists with the thought and I hop off the sofa and go into the kitchen, saying to Scarlett, “You and your toast made me hungry. I’m going to get something to eat and let you get back to your regularly scheduled Thursday evening.”

  “I’m grading algebra tests. I’d rather talk about your sex life, thanks,” says Bea as I put a piece of bread in the toaster

  “And I’m designing wallpaper, so that’s another vote for your sex life,” adds Scarlett.

  “And I’m hungry, so that’s a no. Although I will say Greyson’s very good with his hands.” And several other parts of his anatomy, but I’m not going to go there.

  “Tease,” says Scarlett with a pout.

  “That’s what he said,” I answer. My smile feels forced, but she laughs.

  My toast pops up and I turn the camera around so they can see as I say, “Okay, girls. I need to go, but thank you for talking me down off the ledge. I appreciate it.”

  Amidst a chorus of “good lucks” and “it will be fine,” I hang up and grab my toast from the toaster. I go through the motions of buttering it and even bring it to my mouth, but the twisty feeling in my stomach hasn’t eased and I set it back down on the counter.

  Two nights ago I was wondering when/how I’d see Greyson again and he showed up at my door like he’d been summoned. Now I’m wondering if I’ll ever see him again, period, after this weekend, but I also know I’ll never ask. Because Scarlett’s right. This is our swan song weekend.

  The thought makes my stomach free fall and I make my way to the sofa to lie down, pulling the blanket up to my chin and squeezing my eyes shut. I pretend to ignore the tear that sneaks down my cheek, but the truth is I know it’s there, and I’m pretty sure it’s not the last tear I’ll shed over Greyson Vaughn.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  I purposely arrive at Castle Calder a couple hours before Greyson so I can get my head on straight for this weekend and see Hannah and Lou on my own before Greyson arrives. Since the moment I asked her if we could come up for the weekend, Hannah’s been amazing. From giving us the most private accommodation at the castle to providing me with a rundown of the weekend’s guest list, she’s gone above and beyond. Truthfully, what I’ve most appreciated is her unbridled enthusiasm, which doesn’t wane when I see her in person, and more than makes up for my own wobbliness. I’m filled with live-in-the-moment resolve, but it seems to vary by the moment.

  When I peek my head around the door of the kitchen, Hannah drops her spoon on the counter and lets out a very Scarlett-like squeal as she hugs me. “Claire, sweetheart, you’re here. Why didn’t you tell us what time your train came in? I could have sent Paul to pick you up.”

  “I wasn’t sure which one I’d end up on. How are you? You look terrific.” Hannah’s shoulders are loose and her smile wide. It’s a good look on her.

  “We’ve had a lovely little burst of business after your last visit.” Hannah’s smile turns sheepish. “I still feel terrible about what happened, but I can’t deny it’s nice not to have so much worry about winter bookings.”

  I laugh. “I understand and I think Greyson will be glad something good came out of it.”

  “Well, he’s meeting you here, isn’t he?” Lou walks in from the dining room. “I’d say a little extra business is the least good thing to come out of it.”

  “Hello, lovely.” I smile, but there’s that familiar pang in my chest. “And yes, Greyson should be here in a little while. He’s driving up and texted about an hour ago from outside of Leeds.”

  “So what are you doing in here?” Lou grins. “Or are you getting in your obligatory hellos before you’re otherwise engaged?”

  “I wanted to see you.” I roll my eyes are her. “And ask a favor.”

  “If you insist, I will sketch your boyfriend for you, but understand that it’s under duress,” says Hannah. “I’d find it hard to concentrate.”

  “I don’t want you to sketch my boyfriend, thank you anyway. That would be weird and who knows what you’d tell him while you worked.” I narrow my eyes at her. “And when did you start sketching anyway?”

  “I started a course in the fall. My instructor thinks I’m ready to move on to sketching something besides still-life fruit” Hannah smiles. “Greyson’s quite pretty and he’d make an excellent subject.”r />
  “I think he would, too.” I grin and it feels more genuine this time. “If you do want to sketch him, I’ll see what I can do. I might have a way to convince him.”

  Hannah laughs and Lou clears her throat. “So what was this favor you wanted to ask?”

  I scrunch up my face like I’m expecting a flick on the nose. For what I’m about to ask, it might be exactly what I get. “Well, when we were here last time, Greyson said he really likes to cook and I was wondering if we might use the kitchen sometime? It could be whenever you’re not busy. Even if it’s late. I promise I’ll make sure we clean up, but I thought it would be nice for him to have the opportunity to do something kind of homey.”

  Lou doesn’t answer for at least thirty seconds, her eyes darting over my face. Finally she says, “You really like this bloke.”

  It’s not a question, but I answer anyway. “I do. And I want to do something nice for him.” Something normal as my so-called last hurrah. Castle Calder is like a second home to me and the thought of Greyson in the kitchen makes me smile. He cooked me breakfast when I was in London, but after the comment he made when he visited me at my flat, I think cooking in a proper kitchen would make him happy.

  “I don’t think it would be a problem,” Hannah says. “We have a party of eight booked in for early tea tomorrow night, so after that would probably work?”

  Hannah looks to Lou for confirmation and Lou nods. “You can both sous chef the dinner if you’d like. I can always use a pair of extra hands.”

  “Um, maybe” The vision I have of Greyson and me in the kitchen is of us very much alone, but…

  Lou smiles and shakes her head. “Or not. Come down at eight. I should be wrapping it up by then.”

  I squeal and throw my arms around her shoulders. “Thank you. I know what a big ask this is, so thank you so much. I really want to have a last great weekend and this will be fab.”

  Lou pulls back. “What do you mean a last great weekend?”

  Oops.

  “Well, you know, he’s off to do some film promotion next week and after that, who knows? His grandfather’s doing some script vetting for him, but his next project could be anywhere.” My tone stays light, but I feel a bit like I swallowed a boulder as the words come out of my mouth.

  “A lot of great films are made in the UK,” Hannah says. “You never know. He might be inspired to stay awhile.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.” The conversation makes me squirm. “But regardless, I appreciate you letting us have the kitchen tomorrow. Is there anything we’re not allowed to use?”

  “We’re running low on bacon, but otherwise no,” Lou says. She brushes her hands on her apron and continues. “As long as you’re here, do you want to chop some carrots for me for old time’s sake? I have to run down to the village for a couple of things.”

  I’ve showered and changed, but it’s not like chopping veg is going to ruin my hair or my clean jumper. Plus, it will keep me from obsessing, so I nod. “Anything for you.”

  Lou laughs. “Ah, if only. Okay, I’ll be back in a few minutes. Dice them if you can, please.”

  Both Hannah and I murmur agreement as Lou leaves the kitchen. I grab a bag of carrots from the refrigerator and an apron from the hook as Hannah sets a pot on the counter for me. We work in easy silence for a few minutes, me peeling and chopping as she scans through a battered recipe book.

  “I spoke to Bea last night,” I say when Hannah looks up. “She’s doing well.”

  Hannah nods. “She emails me a lot. She gives me more information about my son than he does.”

  Bea and Hannah formed a solid friendship last summer and I smile because it’s clear to me that Hannah’s well on her way to becoming Bea’s mother-in-law. “I asked Bea if she was coming back this summer, but it doesn’t seem likely because Jaz will be in Atlanta.”

  Hannah raises her eyebrows. “Are you coming back this summer? I would’ve thought you’d be job searching yourself if you haven’t already found something.”

  “There are recruitment interviews in April, so yeah.” I stick my bottom lip out. “I don’t know if I can get through my summers without working here.”

  Hannah smiles. “It’s not like you can’t come to visit and I’m happy to put you to work anytime. You know that.”

  I wave the knife in my hand. “Case in point? It won’t be the same, though, will it?”

  “That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Look at you and this young man of yours,” Hannah starts.

  “He’s not my young man.” My voice is firm.

  This time when Hannah smiles, it’s gentle. “What if he was? Would that be the worst thing?”

  “Of course not. But nothing’s going to come of it other than a great story to tell one day.” I make my voice all crackly. “When I was a girl I dated a famous actor, you know, and goodness, he was a lovely chap.”

  “If he’s so lovely, maybe you should give it a chance?”

  “What do you think I’m doing here?”

  “Sounds to me like you think you’re saying goodbye. Which is all well and good if that’s what you want.” Hannah shrugs. “I’m just not convinced it is, and maybe you shouldn’t think of it as your only option.”

  “Word is he’s off to Australia for his next film, which isn’t exactly down the street.” My tone sounds light, which shocks me.

  “It’s not Mars either. Distance is what you make it.”

  Hannah’s tone is offhand, like her words didn’t make my heart hitch. “I don’t want to want something I can’t have. I’ve done that my entire life.”

  “I understand that.” Hannah puts her hand over mine. “But sometimes people rise to your expectations, and I have a feeling Greyson could be one of those people. But you’ll never know if you don’t give him the chance.”

  “But he didn’t even tell me. I had to find out from a magazine.” Anger creeps into my voice.

  Hannah narrows her eyes at me. “And you’ve taken it as gospel? You of all people should know how that works.”

  Protests fill my head like confetti. But, but, but. I can’t even get the words out until the last ‘but’ settles and it’s the biggest one of all.

  “But I’m scared.” My voice is small.

  Hannah squeezes my hand. “Of course you are. That’s how you know.”

  I don’t ask Hannah to clarify. I don’t ask her what she thinks I know. I don’t need to.

  Which scares me even more.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  I’m not falling for Greyson Vaughn. I can’t. He’s moving to bloody Australia, which means falling for him is out of the question. I can’t fall for him, end of story.

  When Greyson turns the handle of the door, I’m pacing the small lounge of the cabin, my arms clasped tightly over my chest, repeating, “I’m not falling for him,” under my breath. For fear he’ll hear me, I hold my breath as I wait for him to step inside, but I blink and the next second he’s in front of me, larger than life and scooping me up in his arms so my feet leave the ground.

  And fuck a duck. I am so falling for him.

  “I can’t believe it’s you. Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you this week?” Greyson’s voice is muffled against my hair. “How has it only been three days?”

  “Technically it’s been less than seventy-two hours.” I’m glad Greyson’s got a hold on me because I’m weak in the knees with the realization that the emotion coursing through me is just as much relief at seeing him as it is desire.

  Greyson puts me down, but his arms stay around my waist as he glances around the cottage. “This is terrific. And it’s all ours for the weekend?”

  “Yep. The St Juliens thought we might want some privacy.” I make myself grin up at him so he doesn’t see how much I’m freaking out. How did this happen? Scratch that. I know how it happened. The question is how did it sneak up on me like this?

  “So which room would you like to christen first?” Greyson grins and his hand slips beneath the
hem of my sweater.

  All of them. None of them. I’m so damn nervous Greyson’s going to see my heart on my sleeve, I can’t even think about his body. I spin out of his arms and pick up the bottle of wine on the table. “Can we eat first and maybe have a drink? I was running around all day so I didn’t eat, and I have a feeling I’m going to need some stamina.”

  “That is very true.” Greyson shrugs off his jacket. He’s wearing a grey sweater and jeans.

  I can do this. I just need to remember I’m here for closure. And kissing. And Greyson. And closure, dammit. “Do you remember you were wearing that when we met?”

  He grins. “I do. Besides the fact that I didn’t want to pack a lot, I wondered if you’d remember, too.”

  “It feels like longer than a couple of weeks ago, doesn’t it?” Shine a light. That sounds an awful lot like fishing for validation. I grab the wine bottle and say, “How about you open this and I’ll sort some food? Hannah gave me a bunch of stuff to hold us over for tonight and breakfast tomorrow.”

  Greyson takes the bottle and gets to work on the cork while I head to the refrigerator. I keep my head in the cold air an extra minute to let my face cool down, pulling out a few plates and letting them clatter on the counter. Greyson looks up and frowns. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m nervous,” I blurt out. “I mean, I’m fine, but I was so excited to see you and now you’re really here. It’s a little unnerving.”

  Greyson pulls the cork out of the wine bottle and puts them both down on the table, then he walks over and puts his arms around me. “Is it your turn to be weirded out by this? It’s okay if you are. Just tell me.”

  I swallow and look up. His eyes are such a deep green, and my God, those cheekbones. Never mind that jaw. I say the one thing I can that makes me look only a little crazy. “You’re Greyson Vaughn. When do I stop being weirded out by that?”

  “I thought we were past that.”

  “We were.” Until I realized I’m falling for a Hollywood actor who I’ll probably never see again after this weekend.