The Wedding Engagement

Chapter Nineteen

Arran willed himself to start painting, but then he set down the brush with a sigh, folding his arms and staring into the distance. He hadn’t been able to concentrate since returning home from the sten weekend for worrying about Liv. Every time he messaged her, she said she was fine, glossing over everything. He was desperate to see her in person because he knew he’d be able to read her better face-to-face.

But she had been busy with work, and his painting workload had steadied so he hadn’t needed any weekend help with Jayce. Not that he’d feel right asking Liv at the moment anyway; she needed his support—not to be in his service.

Standing abruptly, he decided he needed some fresh Highland air.

He left the studio, getting on his fur-lined leather jacket and trainers and heading out into the late afternoon sun to his car.

When he parked at the Tavern pub and exited the vehicle, the crispness of the spring air that little bit higher in the hills seemed to cleanse his mind. He struck out for the tree line, heading through the woodland path that led out to a clearing and across the field. He stopped at the point where the field was fenced, beyond which the grass gave way to a rocky descent into the valley.

Leaning on the fence, he looked out over blue skies dotted with little puffs of white cloud. The gray, still snow-topped peaks of the Glenavie Mountains jutted into the blue, then dipped down into the green valley below. On impulse, he took out his phone and snapped a photo.

He’d painted this view before, as a night scene. Sam had taken the picture for him and it had turned out to be one of Sam and Maya’s favorite stargazing spots.

He glanced at the lush green of the grass, and Liv’s eyes came to mind. But thinking about them brought a tinge of pain and frustration—at himself for failing to help her. Especially when she had never failed to come through for him in the past.

Something nudged his arm, and he came out of his thoughts to see a cute Highland cow giving him a curious look through its long, shaggy brown hair as it stood beside him at the fencing.

“Hey, pal,” he said, giving the creature a gentle rub behind the ear.

Someone wolf whistled behind him, and when he turned, Sam was there, flashing him a grin. “You look like you’re posing for a catalog. Fur-lined leather, gazing ponderously into the valley while leaning on a fence.”

Arran managed a laugh.

Sam joined him at the fence, glancing at the cow. “And you’ve got a new friend too.”

The cow moved its gaze onto Sam, then turned its back on them and shuffled off.

Arran shot Sam a look. “I don’t think he likes you.”

Sam stuck out his bottom lip. “How dare he. I’m fucking delightful.”

“Dunno about that,” Arran muttered with a smile.

Sam gave his arm a gentle shove, then leaned on the wooden perimeter next to him.

Arran eyed him. “Now it’s a double catalog pose.”

Sam furrowed his brow, leaning his bearded chin on his thumb and index finger as he adopted a rather good catalog pose. Arran snorted, shifting his phone to snap a shot of him. “That’s going right onto my Insta.”

Smiling, Sam relaxed again.

Arran stuffed his phone back into his pocket. “What’re you doing here anyway? I thought you preferred it here at night.”

Sam nodded. “Doing a little recce for the wedding venue.”

Arran smiled. “Still going with the outdoor idea for the ceremony?”

“Yep.” Sam gestured behind them. “We’ll have a gazebo in case we get kiboshed by the weather. Then onto the castle for the reception.”

“Cool. Hope my new pal Hamish can make it,” Arran said, gesturing at the cow, which was heading down the hill.

Sam smiled. “You’ve named him already?”

“Yeah,” Arran said. “I think we’re kindred spirits. And he looks like a Hamish—Hamish the Highland cow.”

Sam laughed. “I’ll invite him. I heard he looks awesome in a kilt.”

Arran took in the genuine excitement in Sam’s eyes and assumed it was related to getting married rather than to the idea of having a Highland cow in a kilt at his wedding. “I’m looking forward to it,” he told his friend.

“Me too,” Sam said, giving him a side glance. Then he shifted over to nudge Arran’s shoulder with his own. “What’s up?”

Arran ran a hand over his hair. “Why would anything be up?”

“You’ve been giving off a very subdued and decidedly un-Arran-like vibe of late.”

He swallowed, avoiding his friend’s gaze. “No, I haven’t.”

“Hmm.”

Arran chanced a glance over at Sam, who was studying him rather intently. “Stop staring at me, dude.”

A smile playing on his lips, Sam shifted his gaze back out over the valley. “Sorry. You’re just so damned handsome, ya know?”

Arran let out a soft laugh.

Sam cleared his throat. “Is this about Liv?”

Arran’s pulse picked up, his mouth awfully dry all of a sudden. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Sam sighed. “Come on, man. I’ve been waiting for you to talk to me about it, but it seems as if I’ll be waiting until we’re ninety and sitting next to each other in our armchairs at the nursing home. So, I’m bringing it up.”

Shit. Why hadn’t he at least anticipated this conversation? If things had gone the way he’d wanted, then it would’ve involved telling Sam at some point. “It’s…kind of complicated. And I didn’t want to upset you.”

Sam met his gaze, raising his eyebrows. “You’re not seriously thinking I’d be pissed off?”

He didn’t know what to say. “Well, yeah. Kind of.”

Sam shook his head. “Fuck, dude. I’m not the sort of guy who doesn’t want his sister to have a love life.”

Arran sucked in a breath. “I know, man. I’m not saying that.”

Sam eyed him. “And if she’s with my best friend, the coolest guy on the planet, then that’s amazing.”

His heart swelled, and for a second Arran wasn’t sure what to say. Sam smiled. “And it might have escaped your notice, but I’m with Liv’s best friend. So it’d be pretty hypocritical of me to object.”

“Good point,” Arran said, his tension easing a little. “But before you get too excited, I’ve stumbled at the first hurdle. Something happened between us, but now she’s backed off.”

Sam frowned, nodding. “Something happened on Skye?”

“Yeah, just a kiss.” Although it had felt more significant than “just a kiss.” He tried to swallow down the pain in his chest. “How did you know something happened?”

“A feeling. The way you’ve both been acting since.”

Arran snapped his gaze onto Sam, concerned. “She’s been acting different?”

“Yeah. Kind of subdued.” Sam smiled. “Kind of like you. Hence, I took two, added another two, and hey presto. We have a four.”

Arran wondered for a moment why the saying was “put two and two together.” Surely putting one and one together was even simpler. Though not when it came to him and Liv.

He wasn’t sure how much to tell Sam. The little Liv had confessed was in confidence, plus he didn’t want to upset Sam and make him worry about his sister. Especially when he was shouldering a lot of wedding-planning-related stress. Arran knew from experience that though it was a happy time, it was also a full-on one.

Sam pursed his lips. “Weird that she’s backed off. Because I had definite vibes that she fancied you. And when I asked her about it, she didn’t deny it. Plus, Maya intimated that Liv had confided in her about it.”

Arran nodded. He didn’t doubt Liv was attracted to him; he believed her when she’d said she’d wanted to kiss him, and he’d felt it too. Their connection was intense. “I don’t think it’s lack of interest. I’m just…not sure what’s going on with her.” He opted not to say anything further, to protect both Liv’s and Sam’s interests.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “So basically, in summary, you kissed her and now she doesn’t want anything to do with you?” He grinned. “Maybe you’re just a really bad kisser.”

Arran couldn’t help laughing. “Watch it, Holland. I’ll have you know my kissing skills are top-notch.”

Sam was grinning. “Don’t worry, I know. I heard all about it from Chloe Reid in sixth year.”

“Really?” Arran said, raising his eyebrows.

“Yep. She was singing your praises to anyone who’d listen.”

Arran smiled. “Nice.”

“I’ll bet if you got a bit of time alone with Liv, you’d discover what’s gone wrong.” Sam rubbed his beard. “She’s so shit at lying, you’d be able to figure out what’s up.”

“Maybe,” Arran said, aware that he’d been thinking the very same thing before he’d left the house—that if he could just see her face-to-face, and one-on-one, he’d be able to help her figure stuff out.

“I’m telling you,” Sam continued. “She was the first to realize Santa wasn’t real and did a really crappy job at hiding it from me.”

Arran dropped his jaw in mock affront. “Santa isn’t real? What the fuck, dude?”

Sam laughed.

“I’d love to get some quality time with her,” Arran said. “I wouldn’t push it; just be there with her and give her some space.”

Sam gave him a soft smile. “I tell you what,” he said, leaning back to stuff his hands into his pockets. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about. Something I wanted to get Liv for our birthday but I didn’t get around to it because of wedding brain. And it might help your cause.”

Intrigued, Arran took his arms off the fence to face him. “What is it?”

Sam took a breath. “She loves your portraits. I want to commission one of her.”

Immediately, his sea-tones palette came to mind as he imagined capturing Liv’s eyes, his autumnal shades tracing the shiny tendrils of her hair. I would love that.

“You can take the commission and see what happens,” Sam soothed. “No pressure. It’s just you and Liv, like always. And if something happens, well.” He shrugged, then put on a singsong voice. “Bo-nus.”

Arran smiled. He’d finally get to do what he’d been daydreaming about: paint the gorgeous loveliness that was Olivia Agnes Holland.

—

Picking up Jayce’s copy of The Gruffalo , Arran got him settled in his bed and began to read.

He looked up when Jayce didn’t join in as usual. “What’s up, buddy?”

Jayce blinked. “I want Lib.”

A cavern of ice opened up in his chest. You and me both. “I know,” he told his son in a soothing tone.

“Lib does the voices,” Jayce said, gesturing at the book.

Arran raised his eyebrows as if affronted. “Are you saying Daddy isn’t as good at the voices?”

Jayce looked at him silently, casting his preschooler judgment.

Arran let out a breath. “Wow. That cuts me deep, little dude.”

He began reading again, this time channeling his inner Liv and trying to do the different voices for all the characters. Jayce seemed a bit happier with his efforts, but Arran knew it was a poor substitute for Liv.

When the book was finished, Arran kissed his son’s soft curls, pausing for a second to breathe him in.

He said good night and left the room, leaning against the door as he paused on the upstairs landing. Liv had infiltrated their lives over the past year, filling in all the gaps that needed filling. As much as Arran had said he’d wanted to avoid commitment, he hadn’t even noticed that he’d been making a big commitment with his close friend, and she’d done the same with Jayce.

He cursed himself for (a) being so slow on the uptake when it came to his attraction to Liv that it had taken him more than a decade to realize she was right under his nose—what a dick; and (b) not going out on a limb that night on their blind date and telling her he wanted her, even though he was worried she didn’t feel the same way. What had he to lose? Just his stupid goddamn pride.

He had to make up for lost time and show her he was there for her. For her sake, his, and Jayce’s.