Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Thankfully, the tourists thought Quinn’s comment was a joke and tittered.
I was certain the locals knew better—that Quinn McQuarrie was in a foul fucking mood.
Quinn and Forde began the rapid beating of the snare and tenor drums and I quickly followed suit.
Covering the mouthpiece of the blowpipe, I blew into it and the three drones let out the first wailing cry of the bagpipes. My fingers were already in place on the chanter pipe as the familiar, upbeat melody of “Scotland the Brave” filled the pub. People tapped their feet, swayed in their chairs, and began to clap along. I, personally, thought the tune sounded better with all five of us, or even better with a larger pipe band with multiple drums and pipes. But it did the trick of creating a lively atmosphere in the Lantern, which was what the owner Aodhan was paying us to do.
However, my favorite songs to perform weren’t the well-known upbeat tunes.
After the loud cheers had died down at the end of “Scotland the Brave,” I stepped forward to do a solo. “Sad the Parting” was one of my favorites, a haunting melody that had brought me to a standstill the first time I heard a piper play it.
The mournful deep groan of the drones played a bass note to the haunting chanter melody as I brought the pub to a hush.
I was midway through the song when Cammie and Tierney slunk in through the door, quickly finding their seats with Murray and Laird. Though I should, I couldn’t tear my eyes off Tierney as the melody visibly ensnared her. Even in the dim glow of the pub, I could see the bright sheen to her eyes and her hard swallow as she tried to hold back the emotion. As if sensing her, my bloody dog suddenly leapt up from her place in front of the large fireplace and wound her way through the tables to Tierney.
It took the American a second to even notice Akiva, she seemed so enthralled by my performance. Then she gave a little jerk and blinked her eyes rapidly as she leaned down to say hello. She scratched behind Akiva’s ears and placed a tender kiss on her furry head. Her blond hair wasn’t in its usual ponytail, and it slid over her shoulders, shielding her face and my dog in a curtain of silken wheat-gold. I imagined how soft that hair would feel wrapped in my tight fist as I …
Fuck.
Thankfully, Cammie jerked in her chair, pulling my mind from fantasies it had no right exploring. Quinn’s sister gaped at the interlude between dog and woman.
Akiva wasn’t unfriendly, but she’d never been the kind of dog who looked for affection from anyone but me and perhaps Annie. Sometimes Quinn, if she could be bothered with him. I’d blamed it on my remoteness. That, in some way, I’d raised a dog who should be naturally affectionate to be aloof and wary of strangers.
But Akiva had taken to Tierney Silver and it shouldn’t bother me as much as it did.
Then again, everything about the woman bothered me.
Lately, that night in her B and B bothered me.
The whole room had thrummed with the emotion raging in her as I’d found her hammering down the wall. I was angry at her recklessness as I saw the support braces shift out of place with each swing, realizing Quinn hadn’t finished securing them yet.
Then I’d felt the fury swelling out of her and I’d known what was within Tierney Silver wasn’t only grief.
I had to remind myself for the hundredth time it was none of my fucking business.
And if I didn’t stop thinking about her now, I would lose my pace with the music.
However, distraction came in the form of something I wasn’t grateful for, for Quinn’s sake.
Taran Macbeth chose that moment to walk into the Lantern. The stunning brunette flicked a look at the stage, locked eyes with Quinn for a mere second, before ignoring him in favor of searching the room. She made her way intentionally through the crowds until she reached Tierney’s table and lowered her head to whisper in Laird’s ear. Whatever she said, his expression tightened. He murmured something to Murray. Murray frowned, said something back, but Laird waved him off and stood up. He placed a hand on his sister’s back and the siblings pushed through the audience, ignoring the concerned attention of the locals.
Then they were gone.
It did not bode well for Isla Macbeth.
I didn’t look at Quinn, but I could feel his need to jump off that stage and go after Taran and Laird. So I finished up the song before it should end and nodded at him to start the next one so he could beat out his mess of emotions on the damn drum strapped to his waist.