Only You (Adair Family #5)(35)

He was a complete and total wanker.

My attention moved to the pram, to the adorable baby girl inside staring up at her mum. “Oh, Arro, she’s beautiful.”

“Thank you. Let’s settle in, and you can hold her if you’d like.”

An ache tore through my chest. “I’d like that.”

“Can you watch her while I order a coffee?”

“Of course.”

“Do you want anything?”

“I’m good.” I was reeling. This felt surreal on so many levels.

As Arro waited to be served, I leaned over the pram. “Hullo, Skye,” I greeted the baby softly.

Her blue eyes moved to me and she raised her fists, giving me a smile in return.

The pain of longing intensified.

I thought I’d have children, plural, by now. Maybe even one already in high school.

Life didn’t turn out how I’d expected. I wondered if it did for anyone.

When Arro returned to her seat, I asked, “What brings you to Golspie?”

“They needed Mac at the estate for some security system update today.” She shrugged before taking a quick sip of coffee. “And honestly, I just wanted to have a gander with Skye without bumping into someone every five seconds.” Realizing how that sounded, she placed a hand over mine. “Not you. This is different. I’m so glad we bumped into each other.”

“No, I get it. Why do you think I’m here?”

Arro chuckled and then shook her head as she held my gaze. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Neither have you.”

“You’re too kind.” She smoothed a hand over Skye’s blanket. “I’ve changed since this wee drop of stardust fell into my life. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep since, for a start.”

“Well, you would never know. You look beautiful.”

Arro gave me a soft smile. “Forever kind, as always, Roe. Goodness, I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to see you.” Her smile dropped. “Though Arran tells me you’re staying in Gordon’s caravan. That won’t do, Monroe. Not over the winter. One reason I wanted to bump into you was to offer you Mac’s cottage on Castle Street. We’ve been renting it as a holiday let, so there’s no current tenant. We can rent it to you for the same as whatever Gordon’s renting the caravan.”

Which would be a crazy discount. I flushed at her generosity and the fact that I required it. Pride made me shake my head. “I appreciate that, but I’m fine, really.”

She opened her mouth as if to argue, so I hurried to ask, “May I hold Skye?”

A minute later, I had a warm, sweet-smelling baby in my arms. “How old is she now?” I asked as she made little baby sounds and blew raspberries at me.

“Six weeks, nearly seven. I don’t know where the time has gone.” Arro stared adoringly at her daughter. “Other than waking up through the night, she’s so good. So chilled out.”

“She must get that from you.” I always remembered Arro being laid back.

“And Mac. He doesn’t look it, but he’s very chill.”

“Are you happy?” I blurted out.

Arro met my gaze and answered sincerely, “I wish everyone could have what I have. The world would be better for it.”

Emotion stung my eyes. “I’m glad for you, Arro.”

Concern wrinkled her brow. “Are you happy, Roe?”

I knew what she was thinking. She was one of the few people who’d known my simple dreams of the future. Teaching, marriage, babies.

At least I had one of those.

“I will be,” I answered, hoping it was true.





BRODAN





* * *



Never google yourself. Rule number one.

I broke the rule.

Now, as you’d imagine, what I found pissed me off.

Not at the rumors swirling about my whereabouts, my retirement, “the end of Brodan Adair” as we know it, but at some lying scummy social media influencer called Harriet Blume. She had five million followers, and while I wasn’t the focus of all her gossip and lies, she certainly seemed taken with me. She’d wracked up millions of views on a video of me with a pregnant Robyn that she’d taken while in Ardnoch. Blume had insinuated nothing. She’d let the video do the work.

People thought I’d gone home because I’d gotten someone pregnant. Thankfully, folk who paid attention had rushed to the comments to fact-check and tell others that Robyn was my sister-in-law. But it was obvious the brat had posted this for views.

I tried not to let it get to me.

Blume was no longer in Ardnoch. She could post nonsense about me and other celebrities, and it should not bother me one whit.

A text message dropped onto the screen, so I tapped out of the platform, vowing to delete the apps, and opened the message.

It was from Rachel Wilde, an actor I’d made my first big movie with. We’d slept together during the making of the movie and whenever she wasn’t in a relationship. According to rumor, she’d just broken off her engagement to some nephew of a billionaire businessman.

Apparently, it was true.

In Paris in December for a week. Could use some company.

I would quite like to get laid sometime soon with no complicated strings.