The Highland Fling(81)
I chuckle. “I want more cherry cake, and since you saved that for last, I think we both know there will be no more kissing.”
“Not no more,” he says, looping his arms around my waist and pulling me in so I can’t escape.
“Minimal.”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “I can agree to minimal, as long as you come over tonight.”
“As if I would be anywhere else.”
One more kiss and he releases me. “Okay, tattie scones, let’s get to it.”
“Hey.” I place my hand on his arm. “Thank you for sharing with me. It means a lot that you trust me with this part of your life.”
“You make it easy, lass.”
We turn back to the ingredients, and he shows me the next steps in preparing the dough—but the entire time, all I can think about is how much Corsekelly is starting to feel like home, how this man makes me feel more special, more important, than any person I’ve ever met, and being here, in the kitchen, with something to do, I feel . . . purpose.
Maybe this is what I was meant to do. Where I was meant to be all along.
“I’m nervous,” I say, wringing my hands together as we wait for a few select locals to arrive.
“Don’t be nervous, lass.”
We spent the entire day baking. I’m exhausted, but I’m invigorated as well. Rowan was very pleased with how everything was looking, especially the butteries, and now we’re holding a small tasting party for a few close people who know the kind of quality Stuart would provide with his baked goods.
I haven’t tasted anything yet—I wanted to taste with everyone else. I didn’t trust myself to judge if my baking actually is any good. Rowan decided to wait with me as well.
Also, between you and me, I was too damn nervous. The possibility of failure hangs over me, ready to rain down on me like a brilliant Scottish storm, and I’m trying to prolong things, hoping and praying the clouds will part and the success of the sun will shine through.
We invited four people: the Murdach twins, Shona from the Mill Market, and Hamish, all of whom were avid patrons and buttery eaters before Stuart retired.
Rowan glances down at my fidgeting fingers and kisses the side of my head. “Relax.”
“You didn’t prep them, did you? They’re not going to be nice, just to be nice, right?”
“Trust me, they would never do that. They’re all excited about the changes being made, but they were most worried about the baking. If you’re bringing the coffee shop back to life, they want it done right.”
“Oh, not to add any pressure . . .”
He chuckles. “Lass, I was there the entire time you baked, and I know you followed every direction carefully. This is going to go really well.”
“I hope so.” I look out the window, wondering when they’re going to get here. “I just kind of wish Dakota was here. She was supposed to be.”
“Did you tell her about the tasting?”
“Yeah. I assumed she would be here to support me.”
“Maybe she forgot.” Because she’s wrapped up in Isla . . .
“She probably did.” Which doesn’t make me feel any better. I finally find something that I might be good at—might being the key word at this point; we’ll find out soon if I’m not—and she’s not here. She knows how important this is to me. I even sent her a text a while ago with pictures of all my baked goods, but I haven’t heard back from her.
I don’t want to admit it because I think I might be acting like a dramatic teenager, but I’m starting to feel a little bitter.
I know, I know, she’s fresh in a relationship—I should cut her some slack.
Deep breath, Bonnie.
You don’t need your best friend for everything.
At least, that’s what I’m trying to convince myself of.
“Here they come,” Rowan says. “They’re going to love it.”
Leith and Lachlan walk in first and immediately stop at the threshold of the shop. Leith presses his hand to Lachlan’s chest. “Holy shite, it smells good in here.”
Lachlan sniffs around and then grasps Leith’s hand. “Hell, I was just brought back to secondary school, when we used to sneak in here and steal butteries with Rowan.”
“Told you, lass,” Rowan whispers to me before turning to Leith and Lachlan. “Take a seat, lads.”
Hamish and Shona walk in next, and since they haven’t seen the changes we’ve made to the shop, I giddily watch the awe in their eyes as they take it all in.
“Wow,” Shona says, “it looks great in here.”
“Thank you,” I say, stepping up next to them. “We have some pictures of the hairy coo we still need to hang, and Rowan still needs to install the inside shutters that match the outside ones. And he needs to make some shelving for merchandise, but that’s last.”
“It’s quite lovely,” Hamish says, taking a seat and running his hand over the new tables. “Are these from Campbell’s?”
“Aye,” Rowan says. “He let us do some mix-matching.”
Shona takes a seat as well. “I love it. Och, darling, Finella and Stuart are going to love these changes.”
Pride surges through me as Rowan places a plate of our baked goods in front of everyone, as well as a small cup of tea and a small cup of coffee.