“Are you asking me?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Aye, Fergie’s is open.”
“Then it’s settled.” She grabs her wallet and walks up to the door, which she cracks open. Most likely to see if the bats are still around. She pauses for a few seconds before heading out the door, closing it behind her.
Dakota sighs loudly and turns to me. “She’s usually much more pleasant.”
“Hard to believe.”
“I think you just rub her the wrong way, but that could be because she thinks you’re hot.”
“She say that to you?” I ask, a little shocked.
“No.” Dakota shakes her head. “But I know my friend, and based on the way she eats you up with her eyes, she at least finds you attractive, even if she can’t stand your personality.”
I let out a wee chuckle and push my hand through my hair. Could you imagine?
Shacking up with the ornery American?
Never.
“How did I know he’d be tagging along?” Bonnie asks, clutching a beer as she glowers at me from a high top.
I’ll give the girl a little respect: she’s drinking a dark beer. Can’t be sure exactly which one, but it takes a special kind of palette to drink an ale from a Scottish pub.
“Be nice,” Dakota says, taking a seat.
For some reason, I do the same. Maybe because Dakota insisted, or maybe because I’m a glutton for punishment. Either way, I can foresee this being an uncomfortable meal. That’s for damn sure.
“How does this work?” Dakota asks, picking up a menu from the table. “Wow, three choices. Okay.” She chuckles. “What do you suggest?”
“Go with the fish and chips,” I say. “Never can go wrong with them.”
“Perfect. Is there a waiter . . . ?”
“I’ll order at the bar. What do you want to drink?”
“Water is good for me. I don’t need to drown in my sorrows like Bonnie over here.”
At that moment, Bonnie tips her drink back and takes a large gulp, leaving a mustache of froth along her upper lip.
With a smirk, I hop off the chair and go up to the bar, where Hamish is filling up a pint. I’ve known the man since I was a wee lad. Younger than my father but older than me, he took over Fergie’s Castle when his father retired and handed over the establishment. Now Hamish and his wife take care of the place, keeping the menu simple every day and the locals happy with never-ending drinks.
“Three orders of fish, a Wolf for me, and a water.”
He nods at me and starts pouring. He spots the girls over my shoulder, and his eyes widen in interest. “The Americans?”
“Aye.”
“Leith and Lachlan called it.”
“Called what?” I ask.
He hands me my beer and works on the water. “That you wouldn’t be able to stay away.”
“Their plumbing wasn’t working. What was I supposed to do? Not answer the call?”
“Nay, you help.” He hands me the water. “But eatin’ with the lasses, now, that wasn’t necessary.” He winks and flashes a knowing smile as he turns away. “I’ll put in your order.”
Ignoring him, I head back to the table and hand Dakota her water, debating if I should sit down or not. It would be weird if I didn’t at this point. Hamish had a point, though: I didn’t have to join them, but I wanted to see how many of Bonnie’s buttons I could push.
“Thank you,” Dakota says, holding up her water and taking a drink. She eyes my beer. “What did you get?”
“The Wolf.” I take a sip and let the malty flavors sit on my tongue. “It’s going to be really good with the fish and chips.”
“Isn’t that what you got?” Dakota asks Bonnie.
“Aye, ’tis the name that caught me wee eye,” Bonnie replies in an over-the-top Scottish accent.
“Poor impersonation.”
“I don’t know, I thought it was pretty spot on.” She sips her beer, and for a second, I think I catch a humorous glint in her eye, but she looks away before I can assess it.
“Awright, me lad!” I hear Leith’s voice call out behind my back right before his hand lands on my shoulder.
Fucking great.
“Isla and I thought we’d find you here, but I didn’t think I’d see you with two lovely lasses.” Leaning to Bonnie and Dakota, he whispers, “The big guy is kind of a loner.”
Bonnie stretches out her hand immediately. “I’m Bonnie, and I can already tell we’re going to be best friends. Come sit right next to me.”