Highland Games: sparkling, sexy and utterly unputdownable - the romantic comedy of the year! (The Kinloch Series)

by Evie Alexander

  * * *

  After brunch, Zoe was itching to get back to the cabin. She needed time alone, time to think. Fiona had given Jamie a lift up that morning to collect her truck, so after assuring Morag she was okay and she’d ring Fiona, she drove home with her bags and Basil’s cage on the back seat.

  The cabin was quiet, left in stasis from the previous day. Rory’s work looked abandoned in a hurry, the tools still lying about, sawdust on the floor. The bed was still unmade. The last time she’d slept in it, she’d also slept with Rory. She stared at the carving he’d made of her in the centre of the headboard, then took her patchwork blanket and draped it over, hiding it from view.

  The police told her she could collect her chairs later, so she filled the Rayburn with wood to get it back to temperature, tidied away Rory’s tools and swept the floor. She had been back less than fifteen minutes when she heard a vehicle driving up the track. She went to the window to see a tiny car driving up. An enormous man unfolded himself out of it.

  Rory.

  Her heart jumped, and she put her palm on her chest, as if pushing it back inside, moving away from the window. There was a knock at the door. She ignored it, rooted to the spot.

  ‘Zoe, it’s me,’ he called out. ‘I have the lease for the cabin.’

  ‘Leave it outside the door,’ she called back.

  ‘I can’t. I need a signature from you on both copies, one for you and one for the estate. I’ll go and wait in the car and you can sign them, then I’ll take a copy away.’

  She heard him stepping off the porch. She opened the door, pulled the folder inside, and took it to the sofa.

  She flipped through the two copies. They were different from what she remembered. These were brand new. She read the document, making sense of the legal jargon. The penny finally dropped that these were for a freehold lease. She would own the cabin outright. She could live here forever, or she could sell it and start again, put a deposit on a flat back home. Why had he done this? To finally get her and the cabin out of his hair? To say sorry? To get back at his mum? She signed both copies, put one with her important documents, the other outside the front door, then waited for him to return.

  When she heard his footsteps on the porch, she opened the door a crack and looked at him.

  Emotions scudded across his face. ‘Zoe, I’m so sorry.’ His voice was a whisper, he looked exhausted.

  ‘Why did you lie to me?’

  He paused, his jaw working but no words coming out. Finally, he spoke. ‘Do you want the long answer or the short answer?’

  ‘Short.’

  He dropped his head, sighed, then pinned her with his wolf eyes. Inside she lit up, but kept her expression neutral.

  ‘I don’t want to be Stuart MacGinley. I don’t want to be the earl. I don’t want to be saving an estate from the mess my father made. I don’t want any of it. When I came back to Kinloch, I didn't tell anyone because I didn’t want it to be real. I wanted to fix the castle and leave. But I didn’t know what I was doing. Then I met you. You didn’t know who I was but you still liked me. I didn’t have to be the earl, just myself. Being with you was like a perfect dream, and I didn’t want it to end.’

  Zoe remembered laying her body and soul open to him, the intimacies they had shared. Hurt spiralled up again into anger. ‘Anything else you haven’t told me? Any wives in the attic, children in the cupboard, or bodies under the patio?’

  Rory shook his head and swallowed. ‘You know about Lucy, and that I made the bed for her. I was addicted to opiates for a year after an injury in the army. That’s why I don’t drink. I’ve killed men in combat. Lots. And… And it was my mother who told the local businesses not to employ you, who stole your lease, and had you arrested.’

  ‘I know all this. But why? What the actual fuck have I ever done to her?’

  ‘Nothing. You’ve done nothing. She’s, she… It’s complicated.’

  ‘Complicated?’ Zoe shouted. ‘It’s fucked up, that’s what it is. It’s toxic and I don’t want anything to do with it, her or you.’

  She could feel her lower jaw trembling. He was everything to her. And now?

  ‘Zoe, I—’

  ‘Do you have any idea what yesterday was like for me? What you and your family have done?’ she asked, emotion spilling out.

  Rory ran his hands into his hair. ‘Zoe, I’m so sorry. Lying to you was the worst thing I’ve ever done. I’ll never forgive myself.’ His eyes mirrored her pain.

  ‘Do I embarrass you? Am I not good enough? Are you ashamed to be seen with me?’

  ‘No! God no. Zoe, I, I—’

  ‘You know, just leave,’ she interrupted. ‘We’re done.’

  She closed the door, walked over to Basil’s cage, gently lifted him out and took him back to the sofa. She stroked his soft warm body as her tears fell, listening to the sound of Rory driving away.

  * * *

  The next morning Zoe drove to Fiona’s house and knocked on the door. Fiona opened it, hugged her even harder than Morag had done and whisked her into the kitchen where she was feeding Liam his breakfast in a highchair.

  ‘Zo, I am so sorry, are you okay? Sit down, this won’t take a min then I’ll get the kettle on. God, I swear, all men are bastards. Apart from Dad, and Dunc and Liam of course.’

  Zoe couldn’t help but giggle. ‘What about Jamie?’

  Fiona held up her hand, rocking it from side to side as if evaluating her brother. ‘On balance he’s a good one, but give me five minutes in his company he’ll have annoyed me so much I’ll be kicking his shins and flicking his ear.’

  ‘Oh, Fi, I’ve never been so pleased to see him as I was the other night.’

  Fiona sat, her face crumpling with a frown. ‘What. A. Bitch. I can’t believe anyone would behave like that! Jamie said you were arrested for attempted murder! For fuck’s sake. The only people about to commit murder are me and Mum, but we don’t know who to start with, Rory or his bloody mother.’ She finished feeding Liam and began to clean him up. ‘I just can’t believe it. Everyone’s in shock.’

  ‘Fi,’ Zoe began, embarrassment and hurt fighting inside her. ‘I slept with him.’

  Fiona lifted Liam out of his highchair, bouncing him up and down. ‘I did wonder. At that photoshoot you looked so perfect together. I’m so sorry, Zo. What an arsehole.’

  Zoe took a key out of her pocket and put it on the table. ‘Would you be able to get this to Rory so he can pick up his tools from the cabin? I’m leaving this morning to go back to Mum and Dad’s.’

  Fiona stopped bouncing Liam. ‘But you’ll be back after Christmas, right?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I think I’m done.’

  Rory sat on the floor of his workshop by Bandit’s bed, Bandit’s head resting on his thighs. In his palm was a block of wood he was shaping with one of his small carving gouges. He hadn’t spoken to his mother since returning from the police station in Inverness, and was now living in the workshop. Before he left for the station, he’d confronted her. She was unrepentant, thrusting an email at him she’d printed out from Colquhoun Asset Management, informing them they were suing the estate for breach of contract. It was only after he told her he would tell the police she’d lied to them she backed off. Every part of him was full of pain, so he channelled his thoughts into making delicate cuts in the piece of wood he was holding.

  There was a knock at the door, and Bandit lifted his head. Rory pocketed the carving. ‘It’s open.’ His voice sounded as rough as he felt.

  Fiona poked her head around the door and walked in. She stood above him, holding out a key. ‘Zoe wanted you to have this so you could collect your tools. When you’ve got them you can drop the key back at the post office with Mum.’

  ‘Why do I need a key? Won’t she be there?’

  Fiona huffed. ‘No. She’s leaving.’

  Rory jumped up. ‘What do you mean leaving? For Christmas?’

  Fiona thrust the key towards him like a knife. He took it. ‘No, Rory.
She’s leaving for good.’ She looked furious.

  ‘What? When?’ Icy fear was petrifying his bones.

  She folded her arms across her body. ‘Now.’

  * * *

  Rory bundled Bandit in the back of the courtesy car he’d got from the insurance company and drove out of Kinloch. The rain lashed down, swelling the streams and sending sheets of water across the road. He tried to formulate the words he could say to her, the words that would convince her to stay but came up short with each thought.

  He rounded the bend and saw with sickening dread that her truck was gone. He ran to the door, unlocked it and rushed in. His tools were by the door, the patchwork blanket had gone from the bed, Basil’s cage was missing, and the Rayburn was cool to the touch.

  That was it. She’d gone. He sat at the table and sank his head into his hands as Bandit whined. Could he catch her up? Not in that car. He had to ring her.

  He drove up the road until he had signal and called her. It cut to voicemail and he hung up, his palms sweating. How could he find the right words?

  24

  As soon as Zoe had left Fiona’s house, she switched her phone off and headed south. She’d already packed up the truck the night before, and called her delighted parents to tell them she was coming home. Now she needed to get some distance between her and Rory, and if her phone was on she would be checking it obsessively to see if he’d messaged her. She drove all day, breaking only to refuel her truck, her tummy, and empty her bladder. It was seven o’clock when she finally arrived at her parents’ bungalow. She stepped stiffly out onto the pavement and up to the low iron gate, pushing it open and walking along the small concrete path to the front door.

  It was flung open before she could even get her key out, and she was enveloped in the arms of her parents.

  ‘Our darling girl! You’re home!’ cried Mary.

  ‘Come in, love, I’ll get your bags and your pet,’ said Arnold, patting her shoulder and kissing the top of her head. ‘I’ve never met a Dumbo rat before.’

  Zoe followed her parents into the house, familiarity settling over her. She knew her surroundings and she knew her parents. There were no secrets, nothing unexpected under the stairs waiting to come out and bite her. Only unconditional love, warmth and the smell of home cooking.

  ‘I’m so glad I’m here. What a drive,’ Zoe groaned, as she took off her shoes and hung up her coat in the tiny hall. ‘Can I smell lasagne?’

  ‘Yes, darling, I made it just for you,’ said her mother. ‘Use the bathroom if you need it, then come on through and I’ll dish up.’

  Zoe went to the toilet and washed her hands, then walked through into the kitchen and sat at the small round table as Mary filled her plate and Arnold brought her bags in. He put Basil’s cage on the floor by the back door and took a bottle of Prosecco out of the fridge, presenting it to Zoe as if he were a wine waiter.

  ‘Would madame like a glass of fizz?’

  ‘Yes please. That’s exactly what I need right now,’ replied Zoe with a sigh.

  He uncorked the bottle and poured her a glass as her mother set a steaming plate of food in front of her. ‘Here we go, darling,’ she said. ‘We’re so glad you’re home. Now things can go back to normal.’

  * * *

  Waking the next morning in her old room, she was drowsy with nostalgia. Memories of the latter part of her childhood, post her mother’s diagnosis, after her time in Scotland with Willie floated around her, faded, and tinged with a sense of separation. They belonged to an old life, a distant one, one that didn’t fit any more. It was like finding your favourite blanket from childhood and discovering it was smaller than you remembered and didn’t smell right.

  Last night she’d been glad to be back with her parents. She was safe within the walls of their home and their love. But now, did she want her life to go back to how it was? Was normal what she really wanted? Scotland seemed so far away, as if in another universe. But it was a universe of adventure, wide-open spaces, old friends and a man who had thrown her life upside down.

  She took out her phone and switched it on. Beeps and pings filled the room as her home screen lit up like a firework show. Her heart rocketed into her throat as she opened a text message from Rory.

  Man-bear, yeti, mutant-redneck-hobbit, hobo: I came to find you but you’d gone. I’m sorry for everything. You deserve more than I gave you, and I’ve got what I deserve. There’s only one other secret I kept from you, because I didn’t want to scare you off. I know it’s too late now, but I need you to know. I love you, Zoe. My heart is yours and will be forever. Safe journey, Rory X

  She stared at the screen, reading it over and over again, memories fluttering across her skin like butterfly kisses. He loved her. And she knew she loved him, at least the version of him she had known until a couple of days ago. But did she want him after everything that had happened? Did she want a life that involved the castle and his mother? She couldn’t reply until she’d got her head straight, and that process would involve her best friend, Sam. She sent her a message, got out of bed and wandered into the living room to find her parents reading the papers.

  It was such a familiar scene and tears welled up. Her dad got up and sat her on the sofa next to her mum. ‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ he said, walking out.

  Mary put her paper down and pulled Zoe in for a hug. ‘You’ve had quite the adventure up there, my darling.’

  Zoe nodded into her mum’s shoulder. ‘It was certainly that. I ended up being arrested for attempted murder.’

  Mary sat up, staring at her with shock and disbelief. A loud crash came from the kitchen.

  ‘Only a mug. Hang on, don’t start without me,’ Arnold called through.

  Zoe disengaged from her mum’s arms. ‘It’s okay now. I’m sure I’ll find it funny in about ten years.’

  Arnold came back into the room. ‘I’m afraid tea will have to wait. If I don’t find out what’s going on, I might drop the kettle, and I’m allergic to boiling water. What’s gone on, love?’

  Zoe told them about meeting Rory, about their agreement for him to do up the cabin in return for her doing the website and marketing, about how she didn’t know who he was, and what happened when she found out. She didn’t tell them everything, but there was enough for them to read between the lines. When she finished speaking, they both sat back as if they’d survived a tsunami and needed to catch their breath.

  ‘Well,’ began Arnold, ‘I didn’t expect that.’

  Mary shook her head. ‘This is to do with me and Barbara, love, not you.’

  Zoe sat up. ‘What?’

  ‘You know I always said the earl was a bully? When I was growing up, Stuart MacGinley was a force of nature. He was about ten years older than I was, and acted like the entire world was his for the taking, whether it wanted to be taken or not. Everything he wanted, he got. It didn’t help that he was good looking and could be very charming—’

  ‘Not as good looking or charming as me, mind,’ Arnold butted in.

  Mary looked at her husband. ‘My darling, it’s not possible for anyone to be as wonderful as you.’

  Her parents smiled at each other and Zoe rolled her eyes.

  ‘Anyway,’ her mother continued, ‘if he didn’t get his own way then he could turn nasty. In my twenties, he took an interest in me. I avoided him like the plague, but Kinloch is a small place, and I couldn’t avoid him forever. Barbara was much younger, about nineteen at the time I think, and she’d set her sights on him. She wanted to be the one who finally got him up the aisle. She saw me as a threat, and became obsessed with finding ways to get me out of a picture I didn’t even want to be in. She made me into her nemesis, which was ridiculous as I didn’t even want Stuart. It got totally out of hand. Rumours started, things went missing, and fingers of blame were pointed at me. I could never prove Barbara was behind any of it, but the more I protested my innocence, the worse it got. It got so bad I prayed for some kind of deliverance.’

  ‘And
that was when your knight in shining armour strode down from the glen. A man with rugged good looks, the brain of Einstein and the body of a god,’ Arnold proclaimed before turning to Zoe. ‘That was me, love.’

  Zoe giggled. ‘Did you challenge him to a duel?’

  ‘I did not have to resort to violence,’ her father replied. ‘It wouldn’t have been a fair fight anyway. He may have been the size of Goliath, but I was David.’ Arnold thumped the middle of his chest, causing him to cough. ‘No, your mother and I ran off into the sunset on the number 42 to Inverness, and took the train south. Happy ever after. The end,’ he finished with a flourish.

  ‘Well, that helps explain why his mum went to such lengths to try and get rid of me. I hope I never see her again,’ said Zoe.

  ‘You don’t have to see any of them ever again if you don’t want to, darling,’ assured Mary. ‘And if Rory’s anything like his parents I don’t want you anywhere near him.’

  * * *

  Zoe spent the next couple of days resting, thinking about Rory and re-reading his text message. Was he like his parents? From what he’d told her, he’d spent most of his life trying to run away from his family, not emulate them. Fiona had messaged her every day, trying to encourage her back to Scotland. Fiona didn’t do subtle, but her messages made Zoe feel loved, and she missed her friend.

  Wanting a change of scenery, she left the house one morning to walk to the high street to do some Christmas shopping. Everything about the urban environment was so planned, so ordered, so manmade. The pollarded trees, the identical houses spaced evenly out. The concrete, tarmac, metal and paint. And the noise. It was so bloody noisy. She flinched at the squeal of brakes from the buses, the roar of cars so close to the pavement, the sounds of voices in all directions. She’d looked around a couple of shops before the music and crowds had got too much, then ran back to her parents’ house. She craved the quiet and the openness of the Scottish countryside. Could she go back to a life in London she never really wanted in the first place?