Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Beside them were three kids. One I knew was Sloane’s daughter Callie, and the other two were dark-haired, a boy and a girl. I didn’t know who they were, but they clearly belonged to the Adairs. And tucked into the corner was a man I knew because he’d followed Lachlan Adair everywhere as his bodyguard back in the day—Mackennon Galbraith. He held a baby in his arms while the striking woman at his side, whom I knew was Arrochar Adair, sat chatting with Lachlan’s wife, Robyn, who also cradled a young child.
Monroe held her and Brodan’s son. The Hollywood star who gave up acting for the childhood sweetheart he’d reunited with had fascinated the world, and I remembered the paps had hounded them for a while. But Brodan hadn’t given up Hollywood entirely. He’d turned his hand to screenwriting, producing, and directing. He’d found a way to have everything he wanted by returning to his roots. To the Adairs.
They were a big, growing family. Close as could be.
I felt a pang of envy watching them.
My eyes moved to Aria. “Excuse me,” I muttered and crossed the room to place a hand on Aria’s back.
She glanced up with a surprised smile of welcome. “Hey. You okay?”
I nodded. “You?”
“It’s sad, but it’s also really amazing to see how someone’s life can affect others. All these people came out to say goodbye to Mr. McCulloch. There are famous people who can’t inspire that level of emotion.”
Her words hit a wee bit too close to home. Who would truly miss me if something happened to me?
At my flinch, her eyes widened. “North—”
A bell rang out around the bar, cutting her off, and we all turned. Arran Adair now stood behind the bar, drawing everyone’s attention. “I just want to thank you all”—his voice boomed around the room—“for coming here today to celebrate Collum and the indelible mark he’s left on Ardnoch. I’m sure he’d be mortified by the attention, which just makes me glad we did this all the more.”
Everyone chuckled and raised their glasses with a “Hear! Hear!” A glance at Jared showed him smirking too.
“Aye, Collum was a gruff man. But he was as stable and loyal and as certain of who he was as any man I’ve ever known. He was Ardnoch. So, while this is a sad occasion, I know Collum wouldn’t want us to be sad. Because he was a farmer. He was connected to nature, to the circle, to the passing of seasons more than any of us. He’d say that this, his loss, was just life, after all. So raise a glass to Collum. Raise your glass”—Arran lifted his—“to life. And to the circle of it.” His gaze moved across the room and landed on Thane and Regan.
“To life!” everyone cheered.
Aria stiffened at my side, and I learned why when she leaned into Sloane and asked, “Regan’s pregnant?”
Sloane and Monroe exchanged a look, and Monroe smiled. “We just found out yesterday.”
Aria’s face lit up at the news, and she excused herself before drifting off to offer congratulations.
I was distracted from my intense awareness of the woman when Eredine came over to say hello. Eredine had a serene quality that matched well with her occupation. Originally from the States, she’d picked up a slight Scottish inflection in her accent. She asked how I was doing after the scandal, and because of the sincerity she exuded, I didn’t mind talking about it with her. Her fiancé, Arran, quickly joined us, however, who turned the conversation to their wedding, happening in a matter of weeks. His pointed need to remind me that his fiancée was taken amused me. Either he was so infatuated with Eredine he couldn’t see past it, or I was doing well at hiding my obsession with Aria.
Soon enough I’d understand exactly where Arran was coming from when, a half hour later, I turned from chatting with Walker and Sloane to see Aria at the bar. With Jared McCulloch.
Their heads dipped toward one another, and a shot of jealousy cut through me.
Before I could let rationality catch up with my testosterone, I wound through the crowded bar and approached Aria just in time to hear Jared say, “If you really want to make me feel better, we could get a room upstairs.”
Fury heated my blood, my neck growing hot as I sidled up between them and slid a possessive arm around Aria’s waist. “I don’t think so, mate. She’s taken.”
Aria tensed against me, turning solid as a brick wall, and before she could speak, Jared exhaled wearily. His pupils were dilated, and I could smell the whisky on his breath. “Ignore me. I’m drunk. Sorry.”
Pity killed my territorialism. “You all right? Do you need someone to see you home?”
“I’m fine.” He waved me off and stumbled from the stool. I moved to steady him, but he jerked away from me before weaving his way around the villagers. Arran suddenly appeared in front of him, placing a hand on Jared’s shoulder. The farmer seemed to relax at Arran’s touch, and I turned to Aria, assured someone was taking care of the grieving man.