Only You (Adair Family #5)(71)

“No. We’re going to Portmahomack,” Brodan explained.

“Really?” The tiny harbor town sat on the coast, looking back across the water toward Sutherland, including Ardnoch and Caelmore. Although postcard picturesque, there wasn’t a lot there except for a small, lovely beach.

“Thought we could grab a quiet lunch at the pub. Away from the prying eyes of Ardnoch. And I reckon it’s one of the few places no one will interrupt us.”

I reckoned he was right. It was mid-December. Most tourists had gone home for winter, and Portmahomack should offer us some privacy.

“Does it bother you?” I asked as we drove along the frosted coast.

“What?”

“Strangers asking you for selfies and intruding on your privacy everywhere you go?”

“It didn’t use to. Now that I actually want my life back, I think I might have a harder time dealing with it. The fair wasn’t fun for me, just so you know.”

I could understand that, and I hated it for him. Yet, we both knew it was the consequences of the choices he’d made. “I’m sorry for leaving like that.”

“No, I get it. It’s a lot.” His knuckles tightened around the wheel despite his understanding tone.

Changing the subject, I asked, “Have you let anyone else see your script yet?”

Brodan relaxed and shot me a smile. “I did. I got up the courage to send it to my agent, Anders. He’s been pestering me for weeks, so the script made his day. He’s not happy I’m retiring, but I think he thinks I’ll change my mind, so he’s letting it go and shopping the script out to people—actors, producers, et cetera—to see if anyone bites. I would like to be a producer on it, see it through, but we’ll just need to wait.”

“Would that mean being on set?” Would that mean him traveling constantly again?

“Sometimes. Not all.” As if he sensed my apprehension, he added, “It wouldn’t be like before. I wouldn’t be gone all the time. I don’t want to be. A movie a year would satisfy.”

Doubt hounded me. “After exhausting yourself into the hospital, Brodan, I can’t imagine you being happy sticking around Ardnoch for most of the year.”

“I told you,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion, “I was running from a lot of things. But I always missed home. And being home for the past few months has only made me realize how much I want to be here. I was going to tell you later, but now that you’ve brought it up, I’ve been thinking how much I’ve enjoyed teaching Lewis and Callie and the kids about acting. The truth is, I didn’t know I had it in me to explain the craft and to explain it in a way that kids could understand.” He laughed a little self-consciously, reminding me of the Brodan of my childhood. “Do you think it would be ridiculous of me to consider teaching drama?”

My pulse raced. “Seriously?”

He frowned.

“No, I don’t mean it like that,” I hurried to assure him. “I’m just surprised you would want to do that. I think you’d be wonderful at it.”

“Aye?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

“The University of Highlands and Islands have a drama course. They’ve asked me a few times over the years to guest lecture, and I haven’t. But I think I might like to change that.”

As wonderful as that would be, considering my alma mater was only a forty-minute drive from Ardnoch in Inverness, I felt obliged to tell him, “Brodan, you’re one of the best actors of your generation. I’m not just saying that. You could guest lecture at the best acting schools in the country. In the world.”

He was quiet a moment. Then he replied, “As much as I appreciate that, and I do, Roe, more than you know … none of those schools are within touching distance of you or my family.”

Blood rushed in my ears, and I swallowed my fear to remind him, “I don’t know if I’ll be here next year. I’ve put feelers out for a job in the Lowlands. You shouldn’t decide based on where I’ll be.”

His head whipped toward me. “I didn’t realize you were serious about that.”

We entered Portmahomack, following the signs to the beach car park. Only a few cars were there, and Brodan glided the SUV into a spot, switched off the engine, and turned to me. His eyes searched my face. “Roe?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said there’s a lot of pain in Ardnoch for me. I know you and I are working toward fixing that, and I’m grateful we are, Brodan, but you’re not the only person who’s hurt me.”

“Your fucking mother,” he bit out angrily.

“Mrs. Waddle scolded me in Flora’s the other morning for abandoning Mum when she needed me.” I shook my head, indignation burning in my chest.

“Mrs. Waddle?”

“She lives a few doors down from Mum. Remember, she used to tell us to get off her stoop anytime we were standing outside her house on the public path?”

Recognition lit Brodan’s eyes. “Arran and I subscribed her to a porn magazine.”

I burst out laughing, remembering it. “You were wee buggers, so you were.”

He grinned. “She deserved it.” Then his smile dimmed. “Especially for saying that to you in Flora’s. She hasn’t got a fucking clue what your mother has put you through.”