Roe frowned, stepping out of my embrace. “It has been a long time, hasn’t it?” Her focus moved to Eredine. “So nice to meet you.”
“Eredine.” She nodded at Roe, her bland smile uncharacteristically unfriendly.
Confused by Eredine’s cool greeting, I looked back at my old friend. A quick glance at her left ring finger told me she wasn’t married—surprising—considering that was all Monroe had wanted when we were kids. To be a teacher, a mum, and a wife. She’d called them simple desires. Yet, as I knew well, nothing in this life was simple. “What brings you back?”
She tucked a lock of her gorgeous red hair behind her ear. “I … I got a job at the primary school. Mrs. Welsh retired, so a position opened up.”
“They finally got rid of that old boot?” I hooted, not caring if anyone heard me. Mrs. Welsh had been a teacher at Ardnoch Primary when I was a child, and she was an auld witch. Apparently, my nephew Lewis hadn’t enjoyed having her as a teacher either.
“Arran,” Monroe admonished as if we were kids again, like those eighteen years hadn’t passed.
“I only speak the truth.”
Her lips twitched. “Well, she’s gone, and I’m here. My mum hasn’t been keeping well, so the timing was right.”
“Sorry about your mum. But I’m glad you’re home.” I wondered if anyone else knew Roe was back. If anyone had told Brodan. Guilt filled me, and I unconsciously took a step away. Her gaze flickered to my feet and then to my face. Her smile grew strained.
“Okay, well, I need to get going. It was nice to run into you. And nice to meet you, Eredine.” Monroe walked around us.
But I couldn’t just let her walk out like that. “Does Arro know you’re back?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “You’re the first Adair I’ve bumped into.”
“Arro would love to see you, Roe.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Her smile fell before she briskly turned and marched out of the café.
“Can I get you a table?” Flora’s voice drew my head around.
Shrugging off the unexpected trip down memory lane, I gave Flora a big smile. “Bonny Flora. We’d like the best seat in the house.”
She tittered, cheeks flushing. “Och, you. This way.”
I pulled Ery’s chair out at the small table near the window and then took the seat opposite. Our feet touched beneath it as her eyes narrowed. “There’s definitely a story there.”
“Where?” I pretended to peruse the menu.
“With the beautiful redhead who just ran away from you like the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels.”
I glanced around the café, finding more tourists than locals, but still. Looking back at Ery, I answered quietly, “Not here.”
She nodded in understanding and looked down at the small menu. I wanted to breach the distance between us and smooth away the frown between her brows. Who did she think Monroe was to me? Did Roe make her jealous? I didn’t want Ery to be jealous. There was no reason. But I felt an annoying tug of satisfaction at the thought of her being possessive over me.
Because I sure as hell wouldn’t have liked it, I realized, if she’d hugged a man the way I’d hugged Roe.
Fuck.
If it wasn’t bad enough that something might exist between Brodan and Ery, Monroe Sinclair, the girl I was pretty sure Brodan had once loved, was back in Ardnoch. A girl I’d slept with because I was a selfish kid who hadn’t realized just what she’d meant to Bro.
What a clusterfuck.
3
EREDINE
It bothered me how much it bothered me that Arran still hadn’t told me about Monroe, the stunning redhead he’d treated with such warmth in Flora’s two days ago. We’d jogged together yesterday morning before work, and still, nada, even though he’d promised me “later.”
It shouldn’t irritate me this much. However, I’d realized in that moment that while Arran was a giant flirt, I could tell the difference between sincerity and just him being charming. And he’d been genuinely happy to see Monroe. Of course, he would be happy—she was gorgeous. But who was she to Arran? He’d said she was Brodan’s best friend, but it seemed like there was something more between her and Arran.
Something more than friendship, maybe.
I hated it bothered me, that Monroe’s arrival made me a little panicky. I didn’t understand it, and truthfully, I didn’t want to.
Yet I still was desperate to know who she was. I needed to know.
I just couldn’t face why.
Arran never raced ahead of me, even though his legs were longer and stronger. He kept pace, our breathing almost in sync as the sand offered resistance during our run along Ardnoch Beach. Gulls cried overhead and the early morning sun broke through the hazy mist, the rays of pale gold light shimmering above the North Sea. A cool breeze rushed pleasantly across my hot skin.