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)
Tierney let out a soft sigh. “You’re right. Thank you, guys. I’ll tell him when he gets back from Scaris. Which should hopefully be this afternoon.”
I looked beyond my friends to the harbor outside. Quinn and Ramsay had taken the ferry to Oban, and then driven to Scaris, taking the bridge over from the mainland. They were there to speak with the Montrose brothers about the problems they were having with their development, so the brothers had asked him back to give them a quote for fixing everything and finishing it.
It would mean he’d be gone for four nights out of the week, since it was too far away to travel every day.
Selfishly, I didn’t want him to take the job.
It felt too soon.
But I knew his crew would be glad of the money.
“Is something wrong?” Tierney frowned at me.
Covering up my real thoughts, I cocked my head in question. “Does anyone know what Quinn’s ringtone is for me?”
Cammie’s grin was slow and wide.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“It’s ‘Adventure of a Lifetime’ by Coldplay.”
My heart lurched. “Really?”
Tierney nodded with a sweet smile. “I’ve heard it.”
“He’s such a romantic bastard,” I muttered, aggravated that he was always making me overly emotional, even when he wasn’t physically there.
The girls chuckled, but then Tierney eventually stood. “I need to get back to the B and B.”
Cammie followed suit. “Yeah, I’ve got a client proposal to put together.”
“I’m going to head back home.” London stood too.
“You know, I think I’ll join you and let Ewan and Paisley finish up.”
I was exhausted today after my travels. Quinn and I had told everyone we were heading to Inverness for supplies for the charity shop, but in truth, he accompanied me to the genetic testing.
We’d stayed overnight and returned home yesterday afternoon.
I’d get the results in a week or two.
Waiting was not my forte, and I think that was partly why I was so tired on top of the travel and the emotional drain of facing my fear of knowing whether I was at risk of going through what my mum had gone through.
Quinn made it easier, knowing he was there to support me. And he’d constantly reminded me that if I did have the altered gene, I’d have a better chance at earlier detection than Mum had.
Because of our history, it felt like we’d been back together a lot longer than we had been.
After checking Ewan and Paisley could handle the store (now that high season was over, it was quiet in the shop), I walked out with London and we strolled home together. It was a cloudy but dry October day, and the stores had already hung their Halloween decorations. Mum had loved celebrating Easter, Beltane, Halloween, and Christmas and had a bunch of seasonal decorations in storage for the shop. Ewan, Martha, Paisley, and I had dragged out all her fake pumpkins—some plastic, some knitted, some ceramic—and decorated the windows and store with her wee trinkets and lights.
It made me feel closer to her.
“I forgot just how cold it gets on this island.” London crossed her arms defensively against the chilly breeze.
“Doesn’t New York get even colder?”
“Yup. But ours is a damp cold. Leth Sholas, I mean.”
“Ours?” I grinned.
She furrowed her brow. “Huh?”
“You said ours when referring to here, to Leth Sholas.”
My roommate rolled her eyes. “And that’s got you all giddy?”
“Aye, it does.” I nudged her playfully. “Because that means you think of this place as yours.”
She considered this and then shrugged. “I guess I do. Leth Sholas is home now. Or … at least until my work visa runs out.”
“It doesn’t have to run out,” I said. “We’ll make sure you always have a job here. You’re not going anywhere.”
“I hope not.”
We fell silent as I stewed over how we could reassure London. I didn’t want her spending her days worrying about when she’d be forced to leave the island and return to the US.
“Isn’t that the creepy antiques guy?”
London’s question brought my head up. Unease crawled over me at the sight of Edward White standing on our front stoop.
“What the hell does he want?”
48. Taran
My unease at finding Edward White at my front door increased as we drew to a stop beside him. His pale skin looked sweaty and clammy, his eyes bloodshot. There was no mistaking the frenzied nervous energy emanating off him.
“Mr. White, what are you doing here?” I asked as London unlocked the front door.
He smiled tremulously, smoothing back his oily black hair with shaky fingers. “I was on the island to visit Mrs. Gilchrist and thought I’d come here to discuss a certain item I valued last time. However, I’m afraid on my walk over, I began to feel rather unwell. I don’t suppose I could bother you for a cup of tea and something sweet. I think it might be my blood sugar levels.”