by Julia London
“I’m no’ ill.” But he might be at any moment, for he happened to notice the happy alliance of Italy and America rumbling toward the inn in Lorenzo’s red car. Lorenzo always hired a red car, the bloody rooster.
“Well, you’ve been acting like an utter dobber for two days now.”
Edan rolled his eyes. He would let that insult slide, particularly as he couldn’t give a good reason he was in such a foul mood without revealing too much. He would keep his torment to himself, thank you. But that was precisely the thing—there shouldn’t have been any torment. It was one bloody kiss! He was going back to Scotland, goddammit, and Audra would take him back. He’d spent the last two years of his life working on that relationship, and he’d spent the last six months planning the repair of it.
He steadfastly refused to let the little devil in him ask why he would go back to a woman who, if he was being honest, had never seemed overly happy with him, and had always found reason to complain. She was Scottish, that was why—she didn’t belong in America any more than he did. And he was Scottish dammit, no matter that he held dual citizenship, courtesy of his American mother. Audra was from Balhaire, just like him. He was not an American.
He did not belong here.
Lorenzo’s red car suddenly screeched into the courtyard to a halt. Lorenzo hopped out.
“Oh that bloke,” Rosalyn said, startling Edan. He hadn’t realized she was standing behind him. “Is he the reason you’re acting strange?”
“I’m no’ acting strange,” Edan said, and turned away from the window before Jenny emerged from the car.
“Hmm,” Rosalyn said, her eyes narrowing slightly. She folded her arms and stared out the window. “What’s the American bird doing with him? What’s the American bird doing here? Seems passing strange to me that she’s at the inn with nothing to do here.”
“How would I know?” Edan asked irritably.
Rosalyn shrugged. “Does it no’ seem a wee bit odd to you that she stays on? We’re no’ known for attracting the fun crowd, are we? And we’re closing! Why is she here? What does she want?”
“Obviously, she’s found a friend,” he said, gesturing toward the window.
“Seems odd, that’s all,” Rosalyn said again, then looked at the clock on the wall. “I best get to work. The Pettimores like their supper at six. Perhaps you’d like to take an aspirin and lay down for a bit, aye?” She glanced pertly over her shoulder at Edan before disappearing into the kitchen.
Edan was more than happy to leave and walked out of the dining room. Rosalyn could see through him at times when he did not care to be transparent. Usually, he appreciated that someone was looking out for him, because God knew he’d managed to arrange his life so that no one else did. But today, he could do without her scrutiny.
He strolled into the reception area, said hello to Mr. and Mrs. Pettimore, and listened politely as Mrs. Pettimore excitedly reported seeing an indigo bunting during their bird-watching excursion today. Behind the elderly couple, Jenny and Lorenzo entered, talking and laughing, all jolly and bright like one of those Christmas advertisements that came on the telly. A picture postcard for youth and beauty and…well, Lorenzo was a picture of debauchery, generally, but a handsome picture of debauchery nonetheless.
That made Edan even more cross.
When the Pettimores had wandered off in search of brandy, Jenny hopped over to where Edan was standing. “There you are!” Her eyes were shining, her smile bloody bright.
“Aye.”
“I wanted to ask you about this,” she said, and dug into her woven bag. She pulled out a handful of brochures and searched through them until she found one. “This,” she said, holding it up to him. He took the brochure from her hand. Fishing Tours of the Cassian Hills and Lake Haven on ATVs! Drive old logging trails through ancient forests home to native wildlife species such as whitetail deer, red fox, and peregrine falcons. Visit pristine hidden lakes and cast your lure…
He handed it back to her. “Aye?”
“We’d like to take the tour. It says right here that it begins at the Cassian Inn.”
“It did. We no longer offer the tour.”
“What? Lorenzo has taken it,” she said.
“Si, we fished, Edan,” Lorenzo said. “Do you remember?”
How could Edan possibly forget it? Lorenzo had come to the lake with a woman, and she’d worn high-heeled sandals and an extremely short skirt to fish. “That lake is remote,” he said to Jenny. “And I thought you were generally against fishing.”
“I am. I was. But I didn’t know you could take an ATV to get there. I’ve always wanted to ride an ATV.”
“Unfortunately, we’ve only two ATVs. The guide must have one.”
“We’ll ride together,” Lorenzo offered, smiling. He put his hand on Jenny’s shoulder.
Edan stared at that hand, irrationally angry with it.
“Is it possible for us to arrange it?” Jenny asked. “Lorenzo said the scenery is even more breathtaking than here at the inn.”
“We can manage, can we not, Edan?” Lorenzo asked, as if they were old chums. No, they couldn’t manage. Mr. Finlay, who generally conducted those tours, couldn’t remember who he was, much less how to guide anyone up into the hills.
“Aye, we can manage,” he heard himself say.
“Hooray!” Jenny said, clapping her hands. “What time should we be ready in the morning? I hope not too early. I would like to practice yoga before we go. I was going to practice this morning, but I heard all these voices and when I went outside, there were four men standing on the tee box. It was like seriously early,” she said looking back and forth between Jenny and Lorenzo. “I never knew people who golfed were out as soon as the sun comes up.”
“No, no, in Italy, these golfers, they come to hit the ball later in the day. No one begins very early in Italy,” Lorenzo offered.
“I can vouch for that,” Jenny said. “Soprattutto in Liguria,” she said, and the two of them laughed.
“Nine,” Edan said.
“Excuse me?” Jenny asked.
Her eyes were sparkling. She was happy with this bastard Lorenzo. She’d kissed Edan and now she was laughing it up with Lorenzo. Edan’s pulse was beginning to pick up steam. “If you’d like to take the ATV tour, it begins at nine o’clock, aye?”
“Perfect!” she exclaimed. “Thanks, Edan. You’re the best.”
What the bloody hell did that mean? The best of the two men standing here? The best ATV arranger? The best innkeeper, the best kisser, the best at wanting to take her clothes off and thrust into her?
“Hey, you want to come to join us for dinner?” she asked. “I hear the special is shepherd’s pie.”
“No. Thank you.”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
“So you will still be here tomorrow,” he coolly remarked.
“Well, I’m not going to miss the ATV excursion.” She glanced back at Lorenzo. “Shall we check and see if you got a response to your email?”
“Si, si,” he said. He put his hand on the small of Jenny’s back and half-saluted, half-waved at Edan as they went off to look at email.
Edan walked calmly back to his office. He shut the door behind him, then ran both hands over the crown of his head, then kicked his office chair so hard that it slammed into the filing cabinet and knocked off two fishing trophies.
What was the matter with him? Why did he feel so protective and desirous and so bloody jealous? She was not his responsibility. He wasn’t even interested. He’d calmly explained this would not work. She could do whatever the hell she wanted.
Just not with Lorenzo Bartolotti.
Lorenzo was a ladies’ man, a player, and Jenny…what did she know of men like that? Lorenzo had brought more than one woman to the Cassian Inn over the years.
No matter—Jenny wasn’t his problem. He didn’t have to mope about it like a sullen little boy. Nonetheless, Edan stalked around to his private quarters with Wilbur and Boz, fed them, and retreat
ed to his study to sulk.
He’d managed to engross himself in a book when he heard commotion outside and got up to have a look. From a window in the tower, he saw Lorenzo help Jenny into his red car and then pour himself into the driver’s side and speed away.
Edan went back to his book. But he no longer saw words. He saw sparkling blue eyes and lips that should be kissed.
And not by fucking Lorenzo Bartolotti.
* * *
At quarter until nine the next morning, Hugh helped Edan bring the ATVs around. “You’re quite certain you donna want me to take them?” Hugh asked again.
“Thank you, but I’m quite sure,” Edan said.
Hugh did not seem convinced. He looked at the ATVs. “I wouldna mind a bit of fishing. Looks like a fine day for it, too.”
“I doubt the fish are biting,” Edan muttered, and fastened the fishing poles on the back of one of the ATVs.
At ten to nine, Jenny walked out onto the drive. She’d tied up her hair into a loose knot at her crown, and she was wearing cutoff jean shorts that hugged her hips and left bare glorious legs that disappeared into some colorful rain boots. “Good morning!” she said cheerfully. “Are you here to see us off?”
“I’m you’re guide.”
She gasped with surprise. And then her face broke into a sunny smile. “That’s fantastic! I’m so glad you can get out, Edan. And not because the woman in East Beach said so, but because the weather is wonderful, the scenery is wonderful, and since you’re leaving, you really ought to take the time to enjoy it before you go. Plus, you were, like, super grumpy yesterday,” she added, and playfully punched him in the arm.
“I’ve got a rather busy job,” he reminded her.
“Job, schmob,” she said. “Admit it—you like to ride ATVs. It’s the boy in you. I know you want everyone to think you’re a badass fisherman—”
“I never—”
“But an ATV is like a puppy,” she said, talking over him. “Boys and men can’t resist puppies or ATVs. If I’m not mistaken, there is some actual science behind that.” She paused, tapped her lip with one finger. “No…no, I’m mistaken. I think what I actually read is that men and boys are more likely to be killed by ATVs. Which one’s mine?” she asked, twisting around to the ATVs. “I like the blue one.”
“They are exactly the same.”
“Well, not exactly, smart guy. One is blue and one is green. Are there helmets? I think we ought to have—”
He held out a helmet.
“Look at you,” she said, smiling coyly. “You’ve thought of everything. But I thought about sandwiches. Rosalyn was nice enough to make some.” She held up the bag she carried. “She made liverwurst for the guide,” she said wrinkling her nose. “She said to be sure and tell the guide it was especially for him. Will you hold this a moment?” she asked, shoving the bag at him.
Edan grabbed it just before she dropped it. She put the helmet on her head, her hands on her hips, and dipped into a model’s pose. “How do I look?”
Beautiful. “Ridiculous,” he said, and handed her the bag, then stepped forward to tighten the strap of her helmet. Jenny lifted her chin and smiled up at him, her gaze first locked on his eyes, then sliding down, to his mouth as he fumbled with the straps of her helmet.
His blood began to stir. “Donna smile so,” he grumbled. “It’s distracting.”
“Is it? Sorry, but smiling and yoga are my thing. You should try them sometime. You’d be amazed at how much happier you’d feel about life if you did either one. Double the feels if you do them simultaneously.”
He allowed himself to look in her eyes. “I couldna possibly smile at so many things as you. You’d smile at a rock, I think.” He cinched up the strap beneath her chin.
“Better to smile at a rock than to kick it.” She winked. And then blithely faded away from him and walked over to have a look at the ATV.
At nine o’clock, Jenny was staring at the door of the reception. Edan took a seat on the bench, happy to watch her bottom in the shorts as she wandered about. “I wonder where Lorenzo is?” she said idly, and sat down on the bench so close to Edan that her knee touched his.
Edan thought about moving his leg away. He didn’t. “Lorenzo is on Italian time,” he said. He stretched his arms out across the back of the bench. If Lorenzo never showed up, he wouldn’t mind.
Jenny leaned back and rested her neck against his arm. It was such a familiar thing to do, something a child or a spouse would do, and oddly, it made Edan feel lonesome. Audra had never been so easy with him. Bloody hell, was he going to be maudlin now, too?
He was beginning to wonder if he even knew himself anymore. He’d been perfectly fine before this girl had come in and banged away at his reception bell. He’d known exactly what he wanted and needed to do. But then she’d come and now he was questioning everything.
He looked away.
“I’ve had a wonderful few days here,” Jenny suddenly announced. “Do you ever wonder how you ended up in one place instead of another? Like…I ended up at Mount Holyoke because my dad knew someone who knew the dean and told me about it. Otherwise, I never would have heard of Mount Holyoke. If I hadn’t gone to school there, I never would have met my best friends. And then I ended up as an art teacher because I got involved with an anti-bullying group—”
“You were bullied?”
“Oh no. I was trying to help someone who had been bullied. Turns out, he was the bully, but anyway, I met this man in the group whose mother was on the board of a private school. What if I hadn’t tried to help that kid? I never would have been an art teacher.”
He was certain there was more to the story, because so far, it was illogical.
“It’s just strange how things have a way of working out.” She turned her head to look at him. “And then I started thinking about why I ended up here, and I think maybe because I needed to help someone.”
He felt a funny little curl in the pit of his stomach. Did he need help? Did he need someone to pull him out of the muck of his life? No, he was fine. He was fine. “I donna need help,” he said.
Color crept into Jenny’s cheeks. “FYI, you’ve made that abundantly clear,” she said. “But I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about Lorenzo.” She looked away. “And I was talking about me.”
“Jenny Turner!” came the shout of a familiar voice.
“There he is!” Jenny said brightly, and hopped up off the bench and away from Edan as Lorenzo came striding outside.
Eleven
The ATV tour was nothing as promised in the brochure Jenny had found at Lakeshore Coffee in East Beach, and she was fairly certain it was Edan’s fault. They stopped twice; once at a very narrow valley filled with trees, and Jenny listened politely as Edan announced that the birds that lived there had gone north for the summer. Next, they stopped alongside a babbling brook and Edan said fox and deer probably drank here, but he couldn’t know for certain. And then he promptly returned to his ATV and took off, leaving Jenny and Lorenzo scrambling to catch up.
When they reached the lake—which was more of a giant pond, really—Edan took the tackle and three poles from the cage on his ATV and walked down to the water’s edge without a word.
“Don’t you want your liverwurst?” Jenny shouted after him, holding up the sandwich bag.
Edan said something in response over his shoulder, and it didn’t sound very appreciative. Jenny sighed, fished a sandwich from the bag, and dropped the bag.
She should never have kissed that stupid, stubborn, ridiculous man. He’d gone entirely weird since she had.
“Jenny Turner, look, see what I have,” Lorenzo said anxiously, holding out his phone. “Elizabetta had responded.”
“Has she?” Jenny asked absently. She was still watching Edan walk down to the lake’s edge. He had on knee-high rubber boots, faded jeans, and a fitted black tee. He looked rugged and sexy and competent, the kind of guide you’d hope to get on some Alaska excursion into the wild in cas
e there were bears to be wrestled or elk to be caught. He was also so damn stoic she wanted to punch him right in the kisser.
Lorenzo followed her gaze out to Edan. “Don’t worry for him, bella. He likes to be alone.”
“No one likes to be alone that much.”
“Ah, but Eddy, he’s wanted alone since the woman, how do you say, dumped him.” He made a slashing motion across his throat.
“You know about that?” she asked curiously.
He shrugged. “I was here.”
Oh. Oh. “Do you know what happened?” she asked, perhaps a bit too eagerly.
“A man can never truly know the heart of a woman,” he said with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “It is impossible.”
“It’s not impossible—”
“But this woman, she did not love him,” he said.
Jenny gasped. “How do you know?”
“How do I know,” he said gruffly. “I know.” He glanced at his hands. “She told me. Eddy, he is quiet. He likes this life. She came here for him, but she didn’t like it so much. She is a woman for dancing, and for life. He is a man for books and fishing.”
Jenny glanced at Edan. She liked books. And quiet. Not so much the fishing.
“We went to a dance club once,” Lorenzo said, squatting down beside Jenny.
“You took Edan’s fiancée dancing?” she asked disapprovingly.
He arched his thick brows. “Why do you look at me like this? I did not touch her.” He suddenly smiled. “But she wanted me to.” He chuckled low and leaned closer. “She begged me to do it.”
Jenny clucked her tongue and turned her attention to Edan again.
“It is very sad,” Lorenzo said, “to love a woman who will not love you in return. But she was very beautiful, this girl. He thought he could make her happy, but this girl, she cannot be happy anywhere, I think.”
“I love here,” Jenny murmured.
“She lied to him from the beginning. He does not trust easily the women now.”
Who could blame him? Jenny couldn’t imagine how demoralizing that must have been. Mainly because she’d never really been in love. Not like that, anyway. She sank down onto a rock and unwrapped her sandwich. She had always been an emotional eater. “No wonder he’s always so…quiet,” she said.
