June, Reimagined (9)
“Please,” June mocked. “You were simply avoiding paperwork.”
Hamish laughed heartily and clasped his hands in excitement. “She’s just what this place needs. A little spark plug to light the dark months.”
“Poetic,” Lennox deadpanned. “But I don’t follow.”
“June is moving in!” Hamish announced. “I already cleared it with Amelia.”
“No,” Lennox said.
“You don’t live here, so it’s not up to you,” June countered.
“Not that it’s your business, Yankee, but I own the place.”
“Co-own,” Hamish corrected. “With his sister, Amelia.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” Lennox said. “Uncle.”
June was shocked. “You two are related?”
Hamish ran a hand over his messy hair. “I know I look like Shrek, but I was quite dashing in my younger years.”
“No, you’re wonderful,” June said to him kindly, touching his arm. Then she scowled at Lennox. “He’s just so . . .”
Lennox was intimidatingly broad and tall, like Hamish. He blocked most of the light from inside. And he was not much older than June—maybe twenty-four, she thought—with shaggy dark-brown hair, with hints of red, that hung in short, loose curls.
“Mind what you say, lass,” Lennox said. “I did save your life today.”
“Grudgingly,” June reminded him, and herself.
“Now, Len, I got it all figured out with Amelia.” Hamish handed June’s roller bag to Lennox, who took it, confused. “June is staying in room eight. Amelia already made up the bed and left fresh towels for her.”
Lennox dropped the bag. “She can’t stay in room eight. It’s under construction. Leaky ceiling.”
“Angus fixed that three weeks ago,” Hamish said. “Now, be a good host and give June a tour of the place.”
“As you know well, Uncle, I’m not a good host.”
“Then why do you own an inn?” June asked. “Isn’t that a job requirement?”
“My parents owned the inn.” Lennox crossed his arms. “I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”
June mimicked his stance. “So why aren’t they running the place?”
“Because they’re dead,” Lennox said curtly. “Any other questions?”
June bit her lip. She couldn’t expose the fact that she was accompanied by another tenant, albeit a dead one.
Lennox leaned forward. “Sorry, lass, there won’t be any tours. The inn’s closed. And what the hell do you have in your bag, anyway? It’s heavier than shite.”
“None of your business,” she said.
“Actually, it is my business, considering you’re about to move into my house.”
“So, you’ll take her then! Grand! Let’s get her all settled, shall we?” Hamish picked up June’s bag and stepped forward to enter the house.
Lennox’s muscle-sculpted arm barred the doorway. “I said no such thing.”
“Now, Len,” Hamish said, stepping back, “you’d be helping the lass out by taking her in.”
“Hamish, I already saved her bloody life today. Haven’t I done enough?”
“Then do it for your old uncle.”
Lennox cocked an eyebrow at Hamish. “And how, might I ask, does this situation help you?”
“I’m working at the café,” June stated proudly.
Lennox narrowed his gaze on her. “Are you sure you want to hire her, Uncle?”
“Why shouldn’t he hire me?” June snapped.
“You could be a murderer.”
“A murderer!” June threw her arms up in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous. I don’t even look like a murderer.”
“You don’t look like much of a worker either. How do we know you’re not a thief?” Lennox offered. “Did you check her references?”
“I’ve never stolen anything in my life,” June said to Hamish. “Except for a tube of Bonne Bell strawberry lip balm when I was seven, and my mom made me return it the moment she found out.”
“So, you have stolen something.” Lennox sounded satisfied.
“Didn’t you hear what the lass said?” Hamish countered. “She gave it back!”
“Instincts are instincts, Uncle.”
“I believe you know well, lad,” Hamish said seriously, “that people can change those instincts if they work hard enough at it. Come on, Lennox. My brother always helped people when he could, especially a bonnie wee lass.”
“My da was a better man than I’ll ever be. You know that. She’s a liability, Hamish.”
“You don’t even know me,” June snapped.
“Where was your EpiPen this afternoon?” Lennox asked matter-of-factly.
June had no argument. She had forgotten a lifesaving tool thousands of miles away in the States. And while she had good reason for leaving hastily, she wasn’t about to explain that to a stranger. She doubted he would take pity on her, anyway.
Lennox again leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms, satisfied.
Rain that had been mist just minutes earlier fell harder on June’s shoulders. She envied how warm Lennox looked in his flannel shirt, how clean he smelled, like cedarwood and mint. And whatever spiced meal had been cooked for dinner wafted out the front door and right into June’s nose. Her stomach growled. What she wouldn’t give for a long hot shower after the day she’d had. But the longer she stood there, the colder she got. Her teeth began to chatter. She tried desperately not to look weak, but a chill had settled in her bones.