With a smirk Nick asked, “I see. I see. Do you play any instruments?”
“I play guitar. I’m Callum, by the way,” the red haired boy said before continuing to point out the rest of his friends. “Connor plays the drums in the school orchestra.” The tall, lanky dark-haired boy waved. “Iona sings in the choir.” The petite black haired girl blushed profusely. “Jack plays classical piano but prefers keyboard.” The tom-boy waved her hand. “And Liam here plays guitar too but wouldn’t mind trying bass out.” The only one of the group who hadn’t spoken simply nodded.
Addressing the girlie girl with her long dark hair and woolly bobble hat, Nick chucked his chin. “Does that make you the vocalist then?”
The girl’s cheeks rapidly took on the colour of raspberries and she nodded. “Well, I’m hoping to be a singer, aye.”
“And your name is?”
“I’m Grace.” She held out her hand in a very formal gesture and Nick shook it, smiling at her politeness.
Taking in the motley crew before him Nick grinned. “Right. So you’ve got it all figured out then?”
“Yep.” The teenagers all agreed in unison.
Nick cocked his head to one side. “And what if I say no?”
“Maybe we’ll go to the p-paper and t-tell them you’re here,” the quiet young man identified as Liam stated in a voice just above a whisper.
Nick raised his eyebrows as Callum punched Liam on the arm. “Idiot! You can’t blackmail him into helping us!” Liam stepped back and rubbed his arm sulkily.
Ignoring the half-hearted threat Nick asked, “Do you have instruments?”
The kids glanced at each other. “Kind of.”
I’ll take that as a no then. “What do you mean by kind of?”
“Well, we have guitars and stuff but no speakers or P.A. system. And the drums are quite old. But they work okay for now. Well, we think so, anyway.”
I reckon I might have my work cut out here. “And what about somewhere to practise?”
“There’s a little function room at the back of the pub. We’ve asked Cat if she’d let us use it. I think she thought we were joking. But she said she’d get back to us about it so that’s good ... I think.” Grace informed him.
Nick thought silently for a few moments as the group looked on with a mixture of hope and terror in their eyes.
“Okay. Let me think about it. I’ll get back to you. But no more talk of going to the press, okay?”
“No worries, Mr Dacre. Take no notice of Liam. He’s a muppet for saying that.”
“Hmm. Okay. I’m going to finish my walk so I’ll see you kids later.” Nick headed off once again toward the village store, chuckling to himself about the bizarre encounter.
When he exited the store he found Liam from the band leaning against the wall. He narrowed his eyes as the boy pushed himself off and began to walk toward him.
“Erm, Mr Dacre. Can I have a word?”
Wondering what the heck the kid was going to say now he hesitantly replied, “Yes ... and you can call me Nick. Mr Dacre is a man I’d rather forget.”
“Okay ... erm ... Nick. I wanted to say I’m sorry about what I said earlier. It was dumb as fuck. But I honestly expected you to tell us to get stuffed so I didn’t think I had to be nice or anything.”
Nick laughed. “So you figure be a shit before someone’s a shit to you?”
Liam blushed and nodded. “Aye, something like that. But anyways, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t do that. Go to the press, I mean. And if you don’t want to help us out well ... ” He shrugged.
“I’ve said I’ll think about it and I will.” Nick smiled and turned to walk away.
“Mr ... erm ... Nick.”
He stopped in his tracks again. “Yes, Liam?”
The kid scuffed his boot into the ground and stared at the floor. “What did you mean when you said Mr Dacre is a man you’d rather forget?”
Nick sighed and shook his head. “I just meant that Mr Dacre is my father. Note I didn’t say dad. Let’s just leave it at that, eh?”
Liam lifted his face again and smiled. “You too, eh?”
Nick wondered what the boy was getting at. “Me too what?”
“You too have an arsehole for a father.”
Nick watched the boy as his smile faded and a deep sadness emanated from him. He nodded. “That’s one way to put it, yeah.” With a heaviness in his heart that the poor kid must be experiencing something similar to him he tried to offer a warm, pitiful smile and walked away.
Chapter Thirteen
Catriona
Camden had been away in Inverness for three nights. He hadn’t called. He hadn’t texted. She knew things were strained for him right now and that he was incredibly busy but this silence was just not like him. She’d asked Lorna if he was okay and had been told he was absolutely fine but being a total grumpy arse and it was better to leave him be until he’d cheered up and returned to Gairloch.
She’d taken JD for more walks in the time since Camden had been gone than the poor little dog could cope with. It had got to the point where he was hiding under the kitchen table whenever he heard the rattle of his lead.
Avoiding Nick hadn’t been difficult as he had stayed away too. It wasn’t a bad thing, really. It was useless harbouring anything other than feelings of friendship for the man seeing as she was promised to her high school sweetheart. And Camden was a good man. A really sweet, kind-hearted man. And she had been a bitch for finding someone else remotely attractive. Even if it had been fleeting and she hadn’t acted upon it ... and even though she was over it now. She was still racked with guilt and had decided to make it up to Camden when he got home. She had even decided that waiting to have sex on their wedding night was ridiculous and old fashioned. Camden clearly wanted to sleep with her. The bulge in his jeans whenever they got hot and heavy told her so.
And she was ready for her orgasms to be gifted to her by a man instead of her own fingers for goodness sake. She was sure that experiencing such a thing with her fiancé would be magical and she wasn’t prepared to wait any longer. She was a nubile young female and she wanted to have sex, dammit.
Lorna had called to let her know Camden was on his way home, and as it was a Thursday and the pub was closed for the evening—as it always was at that time of the year—she would have the place to herself. Her dad always played gin rummy and drank whiskey up at Stan’s on a Thursday, accompanied by JD, meaning she could have a bit of peace and quiet.
She showered, shaved her legs and pleasured herself under the cascade of the hot, soothing water. The anticipation that Camden’s body would soon be taking over her pleasure heightened the sensations rippling through her body. Her fingers slipped and slid in her soapy, slick flesh and she bit down on her lip to stifle a cry as she came.
Once she had come down from her natural high she managed to avoid the temptation to do it all again and jumped out of the shower, deciding to save her next orgasm for Camden. She dried her over-sensitised skin and slipped on the sexy black underwear she had been saving for a special occasion.
Picking up her phone, she saw that Camden had texted to say he would be there at eight and she was primped and ready. The prospect of finally giving up her virginity filled her with a giddy excitement and a sense of relief at the same time. After spritzing her skin with her favourite perfume she knocked back a tumbler of the amber liquid her beloved dog had been named after and waited.
Sure enough, at eight o’clock there was a knock at the door. She checked her appearance one last time and pulled down her v-neck to show just enough cleavage to tantalise her beau then rushed to answer the door.
She flung the door open and jumped into Camden’s arms. Luckily he caught her as she showered him with kisses and fought with his coat to remove it from his body. He carried her inside, kicked the door shut and placed her on the floor.
“Whoa ... whoa. What’s going on, Catriona?”
He used her full name. He never uses my full name. S
hrugging off the niggling feeling that something wasn’t right, she dragged her shirt from her body.
“I want you, Cam. I want you now. I want to feel you inside me and I don’t want to wait any longer.”
She stood, black lace-covered breasts heaving, staring in anticipation at him but he just opened and closed his mouth like his voice box was faulty. After what seemed like an hour but was only seconds, she brought her shirt up to cover herself as the niggling returned.
Camden swallowed hard but his gaze never once trailed to her partially naked flesh.
He paused. “Catriona. We ... we need to talk, sweetheart.”
She huffed and gave a nervous giggle. “Of course we do. Sorry. I haven’t seen you for three days and here I am throwing myself at you. I’m so sorry. Sex can wait. Okay, come in. Can I get you a drink, maybe? I’ve had one for Dutch courage. It feels like such a big thing, sex. But I don’t know why. I mean it’s not as if we’re strangers.” She smacked herself in the forehead but he grabbed her hand.
“Cat. Please stop. We really do need to talk. You ... you might want to put your shirt on.”
She glanced down and realised she had lowered her hand, exposing her bra once more, and she immediately felt her cheeks flush as she dragged the shirt back on to her body.
Camden walked over and sat on the sofa and she followed, taking the seat beside him.
“So, what’s up, buttercup?” She tried her best to sound breezy in spite of the wobble to her voice.
He closed his eyes and leaned forward to place his head in his hands. “I’ve ... I’ve done a very bad thing, Catriona.”
A lump of emotion became lodged in her throat and she had the distinct feeling she knew what was coming next. “Oh?”
He nodded. “When I was up in Inverness ... whilst I was away I—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Camden. Just say it.”
His jaw worked under his skin and he still wouldn’t make eye contact. “You remember Sorcha who I was with when you and I had some time apart before?”
Unable to reply vocally, she nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at her.
“I met up with her when I was away. We’ve ... we’ve been writing to each other. Well, when I say writing, I mean email and texts really. But ... she still loves me. And ... ”
“You love her?” Cat’s voice was small and weak. Her stomach knotted and wave of nausea crashed over her.
“Aye.” He straightened and turned to face her. His eyes were rimmed with red. “Aye, I do. But ... you see, I love you too.”
She snorted a derisive, unladylike sound. “What, so you want us both?”
He nodded. “I wish it was possible. I really do. It’d make my life so much easier.”
She scrunched her brow and laughed without an ounce of humour. How the hell could he be even remotely suggesting a three way relationship?
What the hell does he take me for? “What?”
He held up his hand. “But ... I know you’re not one to share. And I feel it’s best that ... as you’re still a virgin and all ... if I say goodbye to you.”
Before she could stop herself, it was as if her hand worked of its own volition and she slapped him hard across the face. The loud thwack resonated around the room.
“Get out,” she screamed. “Get the bloody fuck out of my house, you two timing bastard!”
He rubbed his cheek and his lip trembled but he stood. “Look, I know you’re upset.”
She leapt to her feet. “Oh, do you? Well, that’s nice. Did you sleep with her?”
“W-what?”
“Did. You. Have. Sex. With. Her?”
He grimaced and she watched his Adam's apple working in his throat. “When?”
“Does it matter? Did you fuck her behind my back, Camden?”
He swallowed hard again and nodded.
Her stomach clenched again and a second wave of nausea hit. “And to think I almost let you put your dirty penis in me!” she yelled. “Get out and don’t ever come here again. Not to drink. Not to eat. Not to do anything! Do you hear me, you unfaithful shit? Just get OUT!”
His face turned beet red and he grimaced and stepped into her personal space, jabbing a finger at her. “Yeah, well you’re no fucking angel, are you? Cat for short. I’ve seen the way you watch that long-haired pretty boy and yes, I've heard about his sickly sweet fecking nickname for you. So what's that all about, eh? You act like you’re all innocent but I know whose bed you want to be in,” he hollered in her face. “If you hadn’t been making doe eyes at him maybe I wouldn’t have fucked Sorcha!”
“Don’t you dare turn this around on me! Nick and I are just friends. And yes, he’s an attractive man. But unlike your girlfriend I know how to keep my legs closed and be faithful!”
He raised his hand and she squealed, ducking away and covering her face. When no impact came she risked peeping up at him through her fingers.
Camden stood there, red-faced and tears streaming down his cheeks. “What’s become of us, Cat? How did we get like this? Can we ... can we get past it? I’m so sorry.” A sob left his chest.
At that moment she realised she had been living a lie ever since her engagement to the man she thought she could trust. Not only had he betrayed her and turned her into a blind fool, but here he stood asking if they could move past this shitty situation when he had just raised his hand to her. The fact that he didn't actually follow through on his impulse was little consolation and she stared at him, resentment and anger twisting her stomach muscles to the point of pain.
How dare he cry? How dare he be upset? She was the one who'd been cheated on. She was the one who had taken the tough step of trusting someone and letting them into her heart. After seeing her father's heartbreak at losing his soul mate she never thought she could allow it to happen and now she saw that it would have been easier to have never loved Camden. At least that way she could have protected herself from his heart-shattering betrayal. If there was one thing she hated above everything it was lies and the tangled webs of deceit they created.
He'd always been a flirt. She knew that about him and accepted it. He was gregarious and outgoing but always swore he loved her and that was just his personality. So yes, she'd made excuses for him. Looking back she realised how utterly ridiculous she had been. And she wondered why she hadn't been sensible enough to see through him before. Was she so stupid?
Seeing him so distraught and hurting somehow bolstered her and she straightened her spine. One moment he had been on the verge of breaking up with her and now this? “I thought you were telling me goodbye?” He didn’t speak so she continued with her new found inner strength. “I did look at Nick, Camden. You’re right. I looked and I found him attractive. But that’s all it was. It ended there, with a thought. And I would never have acted on it because I was yours. But you had sex with another woman. You kissed and held another woman in bed. How can I ever forgive that? How can I ever trust you again?” In spite of her supposed strength, tears spilled from her eyes and cascaded down her burning hot skin as she let go of the love that had just died before her.
Chapter Fourteen
Nick
After a day of doing nothing in particular, Nick lazed on the tired old couch, stretched out with his head resting on one arm and his far-too-long legs dangling over the arm at the other end. His phone battery had died and he was getting tired of the silence. The decision was made. He would be buying a TV. He couldn’t fathom for the life of him why he hadn’t bought one when he had gone shopping with Cat.
Thinking about her brought images to mind of her beautiful smile, the sparkle in her green eyes, the sexy curve of her arse, and accompanying these pointless recollections was the memory of the fragrance of her floral perfume and ... aaaargh!
Yep ... he definitely needed a TV.
A loud hammering at the door caught him by surprise and he almost leapt three feet into the air. “What the fuck?” His heart thundered in his chest. It was nine at night and he wondered
if this was it. Had the band finally found him? Were his days of peace and quiet over so soon? As the pounding on the door continued he jogged over and stopped, his hand hovering over the key in the lock, and he cursed the lack of spy-hole.
Tentatively he turned the key and reluctantly opened the door a tiny amount. To his shock it was Cat standing before him in a flimsy blouse and skirt; hair all styled and scooped sexily over one shoulder but with mascara streaked down her cheeks. A joke about Alice Cooper sprang to mind but he stopped himself as he saw her wobble.
Jabbing a pointed finger toward him she slurred, “You’re all bastards.” And then she turned to walk away.
The bottle of Jack she held in her other hand glistened in the light coming from behind him in the hallway and he stepped out into the cold night to grab her arm.
“Hey. Stop! You didn’t come all the way up here to tell me that did you?”
She turned to face him and snorted. “Yes. Because you neededed to know it from a woman who knowshall the bloodily truth. You’re all the fecking same. All of yous. Cannae be trusted. You're all fecking liarsh.” She was almost incoherent, inventing words which were made less understandable because the strength of her accent was more pronounced in her drunken state.
She wobbled on her stiletto heels and almost toppled over, swearing as she grabbed out but found nothing to support her.
He leapt forward and caught her, quickly scooping her off the floor and into his arms. “Come on. Let’s get you inside to sober up, eh? You can bring your friend.” He nodded down at the half empty bottle.
She wriggled in his arms. “Fut the shuck up, you stupid fecking randall rock star and put me down.”
He smirked at the fact that she couldn’t even pronounce her nickname for him correctly and shook his head. “Nope. Not a chance. You’re coming inside to tell me the real reason you’re half-dressed and outside my door, pissed as a fart on such a bloody cold evening. I’m sure it wasn’t just to hurl abuse at me.”
“Yesh ... yesh it was,” she slurred as she rested her head on his shoulder and slipped her arms around his neck.
The Worst of Me Page 12
