“I’m going to take that as a compliment, because I know for a fact that I’m growing on you.” I fluff my hair.
“Aye, and how do you know that?” he says, nudging my leg playfully.
“Uh, do you not remember the hug before you left the cottage, confessing you had fun with me?”
“I think I was still drunk.” He smirks, and I melt.
“Nice try, Grumpyshire. You’re totally into this.” I motion my hand up and down my body and watch his teeth tug on his lower lip while he takes me in.
Dear Jesus, please help me keep my shirt on right now.
His eyes return to mine. “So, what’s your idea?” he asks. “I know you have one brewing in that head of yours.”
“I was hoping we could overhaul the coffee house. Freshen it up, bring back the butteries, and add more coffee choices—real ones. Make it cozy in here, a place where tourists want to stop in. We could sell merchandise that centers on the Boaby Stone and Fergus, the things that make this town unique. Even the hairy coos. We don’t even have any pamphlets that direct tourists where to go. You could do so much—like a town bingo. You’d distribute the cards to the tour buses ahead of time, and in the half hour they’re here, there’d be a few things the tourists have to do, have to visit, and then they’d get a free shirt or something. I don’t know, I’m just spitballing here, but there’s so much potential, especially with the popularity of Iron Crowns, which I saw online—just signed on for three more seasons.”
He scratches the side of his jaw. “What happens when you go back home? You’ll be leaving my maw to handle it all on her own?”
“Who says I’m leaving? Maybe I like Corsekelly and want to live here. Maybe I’ll find a strapping lad who sweeps me off my feet. Someone like Leith or Lachlan. Or maybe both of them. I don’t mind shacking up with two hot twins who prance around town in kilts and lift logs as their workout.”
“They couldn’t handle you.”
“Oh?” I cross my arms over my chest. “And you think you’re the authority on who can handle me?”
“Aye.” The intensity of his gaze nearly overwhelms me.
I sigh. Now is not the time to get into another heated battle. “If I do end up leaving, I’ll be sure to help your mom find a reliable employee. Hell, she brought in two Americans—I’m pretty sure we could find someone who wouldn’t mind staying in a storybook cottage in Scotland’s cutest town. Not a hard sell, Rowy.”
“Don’t call me that,” he says quickly, and I chuckle.
“Come on.” I nudge his foot. “Think about how this would help your mom, your parents. Maybe there’s something they always wanted when it came to the coffee house. We could make it happen.”
He mulls it over as he takes in the shop, really giving it a good look. “It is shite in here,” he admits, which makes me laugh again. “I remember when this place was full of life.” He looks at me. “Why do you want to do this?”
“Truth?”
“Aye.”
“I relate to this coffee house more than I care to admit. Once had all the potential in the world, but over time, lost its luster . . . its purpose. Making it shine will give me something to do, something that actually makes me feel like I’m contributing rather than just living a mundane life.”
“You have purpose, Bonnie,” he says, and even though it’s a sweet statement, it rings false.
“I thought I did.” I shake my head. “It’s been hard to find lately. I feel like this will give me purpose, something to focus on and a way to apply myself. I need . . .” I let out a heavy breath. “I need to feel like I’m useful, Rowan. Right now, I couldn’t think any less of myself.”
“Hey.” He lifts my chin so I see the crinkle in his brow. “We all have our low moments. Trust me. Not all of us are living our truth. Not completely.”
“Are you talking about yourself?” I ask, and it feels like some barrier between us just broke from this one confession.
“Aye.” He looks away and stands from his chair, pulling on the back of his neck. “The plan was to leave Corsekelly, to do something better, something I really wanted, but that plan changed in an instant.”
“What happened?” I ask.
He’s opening his mouth to answer just as Dakota comes barreling through the door. “Isla said yes!” She tosses her arms up in the air and dances in place. “Oh my God, she said yes.”