Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
We turned together to find Mrs. Gilchrist, the owner of the antiques store, walking toward us, eyes on the construction. “This your doing, Taran Macbeth?”
At Taran’s weary sigh, I squeezed her waist in support. She’d been fielding questions from islanders for the past two weeks regarding the store. Most people thought it was a grand idea, while others were annoyed by the inconvenience it had caused since the road outside it had been closed for a few days. And there were a couple of people who had apparently applied to Aodhan to buy that prime spot of land and been turned down and were annoyed he’d donated the plot to Taran’s cause.
“It is.”
“It’s an eyesore.” Mrs. Gilchrist halted before wearing a furrowed brow.
“It’s not finished yet,” I explained.
“Hmm.” She eyed Taran, ignoring me. “Word has it you’re intending to sell antiques in it.”
Ah.
Taran stiffened. “Just my mother’s. I’m donating them to the store. And anything people feel like donating.”
“You don’t think that will impact my business?”
“I doubt people will donate expensive antiques, Mrs. Gilchrist.”
“You are.”
“How do you know that?”
“Well … you said you had some good estimates from Mr. White.”
“Did I?” Taran cocked her head. “I’m not sure I mentioned value.”
The older woman frowned. “My point is, it would have been courteous to tell me you were planning to sell antiques in here.”
“Like I said, it’s just the items belonging to my mother.”
“Are they all in there?” She pointed with a sneer to the store.
“No. They’re in safekeeping until the store is ready for them.”
“I still think it’s rude—”
“You’re getting wet, Mrs. Gilchrist. Wouldn’t want you to catch a chill.”
At Taran’s impatient interruption, Mrs. Gilchrist harrumphed and spun on her heel, marching back to her store.
Taran grimaced as she faced me. “I’ll pay for that. But I’m just so tired of people complaining about a store that’s going to help us keep the lifeboat service.”
“Once it’s up and running, they’ll all shut up and get on with it.”
“Let’s just hope they donate to it. Otherwise, it’ll be dead in the water.”
At her forlorn look, I pulled her close. “You packed for tomorrow?”
We were due on the ferry to Oban where we’d meet up with Kiera, Gary, and the kids, and we’d all drive Heather to Glasgow to get her settled into her student accommodation. Taran had agreed to come with me for moral support.
“All packed.” She smoothed a hand over my face again. Since deciding to make a go of it together, Taran touched me constantly. Like she needed the reassurance. She’d find no complaints from me. Every time she touched me was like a miracle. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I want to go into full-blown denial and bring her home instead of drop her off at her student halls.”
Her smile was compassionate. “It’ll take time to get used to it. Just remember that as confident as Heather comes off, she’ll be anxious about leaving home too. I thought I was so ready for it, and I remember standing in the student halls with you and my mum, forcing myself not to beg you both to take me home.”
“Really?” I didn’t remember it like that at all. In truth, I’d been a bit hurt by Taran’s excitement and desire for us to leave her there so she could get acquainted with the students in her hall.
“I put on such a show.” She bit her lip in remembrance. “I didn’t want you to think I was a big baby that couldn’t survive without you.”
“I wouldn’t have thought that. I thought … I thought you were glad to be rid of me.”
Her eyes flared with surprise at my confession. “Quinn … we were such idiots toward each other.”
“I know. But never again. I want you to tell me everything.”
“If you two lovebirds are done, we’ve got a problem with this back window, McQuarrie,” Ramsay interrupted.
Taran mock scowled at him. “Was it this charming manner that won Tierney over?”
Ramsay shrugged. “Apparently.”
Taran and I shared an amused look before she pressed a quick kiss to my lips. “Pick me up after work?”
“I’ll be there.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Aye, we all love each other and life is fucking wonderful. Can you hurry up before the lads strain a muscle holding this window?” Ramsay strode off, bristling with impatience.
“He loves me, really,” I promised Taran, making her light laughter ring out between us as she turned, waving goodbye.
A sense of rightness filled me at the sound, and so even when confronted with a window that didn’t fit, I grinned through the problem, unable to wipe the goddamn smile off my face.
45. Taran
Quinn and I boarded the earliest ferry leaving Glenvulin for Oban. We needed to get to Kiera and Gary’s house first and then we’d follow them in our car to Glasgow. It was a five-hour round trip. Quinn and I had decided to stay in a hotel, but Kiera and Gary wanted to get Angus home afterward, so we needed to depart early.