Stolen (Wild Mountain Scots, #3)

I drove slowly through the town, anticipation a gnawing ache in my gut. I’d sent Max two messages since his last night, but he hadn’t responded to either. A wee shack of a petrol station sat by the roadside, so I pulled over. From her perch in the passenger seat, Rory watched me while I filled up the tank. Then I paid up, dropped back into the driver’s seat, and took out my phone.

“Max,” I said out loud, texting as I spoke, “Rory and I are here. We’ll head out for an explore. Give me a call when you’re ready.” Then I turned to the lass beside me. “Choose how to kill some time. Beach or caves.”

She tilted her head. “I would’ve said find a quiet place to get to know you better, but after our chat, my liking for casual sex has gone out the window.”

Mine had long ago, but I couldn’t help leaning over to claim a fast, brief kiss. “Pity.”

Rory pressed her lips together, muted excitement in her eyes. “Then let’s take on the caves. That’s Smoo Cave, isn’t it? I saw that on the map.”

It was, and I got us on our way again, no message from my brother to stall our movements.

This morning, when I’d been waiting for Rory, I’d scanned the map for places she might like to see. Starting with the castle where we’d had our picnic, now the caves, then to the wilds of Balnakeil beach. Durness sat right on the coast of the North Sea. The rain had dried up and, for our last hour or two alone together, our surroundings were at their finest.

We found a place to park then followed the footpath to the caves. I breathed in long pulls of clean, salty sea air and tried to enjoy the moment. A bridge over an inlet led to the entrance. Towering overhead, the rock cavern had Rory staring. I was, too, but more at her, as I had the whole trip.

Today had the sense of an ending to it. Whether the ending was me and Max ever coming to terms, or Rory and me getting close, I didn’t know.

We mingled with a handful of other tourists, and I savoured the burst of joy I had at Rory’s hand in mine when we crossed slippery rocks by a waterfall.

She kept our contact, and my mind wandered to dark corners and passionate kisses. But it was too public even for my taste.

An hour of exploring brought us to four PM, and still no word from my brother. We got back in the car, snacking on the leftover food we’d bought this morning, and I drove out to the beach I knew would wow this lass.

Balnakeil beach spread out before us, white-golden sands for miles, with the sun finally dipping below the clouds. Reds and oranges streaked across the sky, almost angry-looking. A lonely house perched at one end, and a couple of brave campers had set up tents in the dunes.

Despite the cold, Rory and I marched out on the frigid sands and up to the water’s edge.

Rory danced away from a wave then turned and cocked her head. “I’m up for this if you are.”

“For what?”

With her gaze on mine, she stripped her boots and socks then stepped into the water. “Damn, that’s icy. Come on.”

She flicked sea water at me, and I growled then lost my own footwear to chase after her.

We played like kids, and I almost forgot my worries.

Farther down the beach, cows roamed freely. Rory took dozens of pictures, and I couldn’t help myself. I crept up behind her and swung her into my arms, grabbing the camera to snap a shot of me planting a kiss on her pretty mouth.

Then I lingered, because kissing Rory Westacre was my new favourite thing.

“I’ll put that online with my ‘love ya’ slogan against it.” She grinned at me.

“Go for it, if ye can find me. I bet ye won’t.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Challenge accepted.”

“Maddock,” a voice shouted down the open stretch of beach.

I spun around and identified my brother standing on the bluff.

Rory wriggled out of my arms. “Finally,” she muttered.

I could only stare. He waited on us, but Rory waved me off.

“Here if you need me,” she said.

I regained my footwear and strode over to my brother. With no expression, and his arms folded, Max watched my approach. I climbed the sandbank to stand next to him. Despite how it seemed to other people, looking at my brother was nothing like seeing myself. Our physical similarities had limits. I wondered now if Rory would be able to tell us apart.

Like me, he wore his hair shorn at the sides and longer on top. His green eyes reflected mine. He had the same five o’clock shadow I’d left unshaven today.

I’d known back in the summer that he’d gotten a tattoo, though not the design—it had prompted me to get my own. He’d changed himself to be irrevocably unlike me, and for some reason, that had stung.

I disliked it all the more now I knew it matched Rory’s.

“Hey.” I lifted my chin in greeting.

Max’s eyes tracked me, and he gave the tiniest eyebrow movement as his reply.

I settled next to him, both of us watching the sea. Or more precisely, Rory as she toed the waterline.

I had no clue how to start this conversation.

“Rory’s great,” I said stupidly.

In the corner of my vision, Max shifted his weight. “She is.”

“Ye know her better than me,” I added.

He huffed a breath. “Dinna think that’s true. At least not anymore.”

He’d seen her in my arms. I wasn’t about to apologise for that. Everything between me and her felt natural and good. I’d been wrong in how I treated the attraction, and I wasn’t going to repeat that now.

Rory wasn’t the centre of our issue, and I wouldn’t let Max make her that either.

Already stiff, my muscles ached, and I rolled my shoulders. But then, Max spoke, taking the initiative.

“I owe her an apology. I’m glad she came with ye. None of this shite is on her.”

I winced. “Aye. That fault’s all mine.”

“Fuck.” Max jammed his fingers into his hair and wheeled around to face me. Anger flashed over his features. “No. That isn’t true either.”

He stared, and I blinked.

Then he added, “Ye didnae set out to hurt me. Not with Rory, and not before.”

His admittance startled me into silence. From her position at the edge of the sea, Rory stopped and stared at us.

I was on a precipice of how I handled this now. Max was being far more reasonable than I’d expected, so I just had to bite the bullet.

“Of course I didn’t mean to hurt ye. I didnae have the whole picture with your ex. Never would I have gone near—”

“Dinna say her name,” Max snapped. Desperation chased the anger from his eyes, and he threw his hands out. “For the love of God, man. Just fucking spare me that.”

I shut my mouth. He still loved her.

After all this time, he still loved her. Holy fuck.

I put a hand out in a placating gesture, not touching him. “No problem there. I want ye back in my life the way we used to be. I want everything how it was. I can’t undo that night, but I tell ye, I’m sorry. We can handle this however ye want to.”

Max gave a tiny shake of his head as if the thought was the very furthest thing from his mind. But then his shoulders slumped. “I cannae keep hating ye. I don’t want to. It’s hurting everyone.”

Max’s emotions were always bigger than mine. He hated judgement. Despised criticism. Yet that had always come his way. No matter the fact that I had caused this rift, to outsiders, he’d be the cause because he wore every thought on his sleeve.

He continued, “I appreciate ye coming out here. Ignore my shite mood. I know I need to get over this. We have to live in the same place together.”

“Maybe not,” I confessed. “I could be out of a job. If I move, you won’t have to see my face around.”

He gave another short laugh and drifted an inch closer. “Unless I look in the mirror. What’s happening at work?”

Sickness wound through me at the impact of Gordain’s warning. I hadn’t let myself consider it throughout the trip, but now I let the reality hit. “Gordain might have to close the heli service down. It means relocating to another city if I wanted to remain a pilot.”

We both sank into silence again. There was no reassurance Max could give. I could take other work locally, if I wanted to stay in our slice of the Highlands. But that meant separating myself from a core part of my being.

Hadn’t I done exactly that with my brother?

Max lifted a hand and waved at Rory. Tentatively, she waved back. Then he tapped me with the back of his hand.

“The two of ye a thing?”

“Something like that.” No point hiding it.

“How does that work when she flies home?”

“It doesn’t. On Saturday, she gets on a plane for the States, and I fly to Iceland for training. I’m away for weeks, then back in time for Christmas. She’ll be in California.”

As I spoke, I hated the words. No matter how true.

My brother gave a grunt of acknowledgement, though my regrets were nothing to his.

“Aurora, come here a minute,” he bellowed down the sands.

“Aurora?” I questioned.

He tilted his head, and his mouth slid into a tease. “Sorry, man. Too familiar?”

Fucker.

I shoved him, and the arsehole laughed.

Somehow, just like that, we’d repaired a tiny part of our damage. It wasn’t enough, I knew that, but it was a start.

Rory reached us, and Max held up his hands in the position of apology. “My bad,” he said without explanation. “Forgive me?”

Rory grumbled but brought him into a one-armed hug, lightly cuffing the back of his head. “Done. Don’t be a jerk again. Now I’m starving. Where’s good for dinner?”

With Max leading on his motorbike, we headed back into town. Inside a café, a teenage boy hailed him, calling out something about the car they were fixing.

I got a small glimmer of how useful my brother had made himself on his outreach work.

“Stubborn shite, that one,” Max explained after the lad left. “He’s not even part of the programme, but I came across him when he tried to race me. We’re working on his ride together, but getting any information from him is like blood from a stone.”

“Does he remind ye of yourself?” I quipped.

Max pursed his lips, but it felt good to laugh with him again.

We talked about his projects while we ate, but just as we’d finished up, Rory made a sound of dismay, staring at her phone.

“Shit. I have a message from my aunt. She’s worried about Mom. I asked her to keep me posted, but she’s saying now that there’s been a problem for a while and she didn’t want to bother me.” Her gaze sought mine, fear obvious. “I need to call her.”

The small glimpse she’d given me into her homelife didn’t sound great, and she’d mentioned concern over a lack of contact from her mother. I offered a reassuring smile, but Rory only frowned deeper.

“Whatever this is, it won’t be good. Be right back.”

She jumped up from the table. I stared after her until the café door closed. If we were a couple, I’d go after her and offer help. But that felt like overstepping.

I dragged my gaze away to find my brother watching me.

“Are ye kidding me?”

“What?” I replied.

“Don’t be like me and let her handle that alone. Go after her,” he urged.

There was a story behind his words, but one to be unpicked later. I pushed up to my feet and left the café.

Outside, Rory paced the dark pavement, her phone to her ear. “Sure, but for how long?”

I crossed so she could see me but kept a distance away. Her gaze touched on mine, then clung. Rory moved closer to me, listening to her call.

“What do you mean she’s not eating? Anything?” She spluttered a harsh laugh. “Like a hunger strike? Does she think this will bring him back?”

Whatever the other person said, her aunt, I guessed, Rory didn’t like.

She pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “No, I understand. I’ll come home. I was going to on the weekend anyway, but if she needs me, I’m there.”

After a few more words, she hung up.

I didn’t know her well enough for this, but I walked straight over and wrapped her in a hug. Thank fuck, Rory took it, huddling in.

Her voice tiny, she said, “Mom suffers from depression. She always has. Her sister told me that for the past week, she’s refused to eat. Aunt Rebecca didn’t think anything of it, because Mom has always been skinny and sometimes just picks at her food, but now she believes Mom has stopped eating entirely. All because this time, my stepdad won’t come back to her. A guy who treated her like shit. I don’t get it.”

“I’m sorry. What can I do to help?” I peered down at her face then brushed a silver tear that trickled down her cheek.

My heart squeezed.

“She’ll listen to me. I have to go.”

“We’ll drive back now to your sister’s. Ye can check the flights on the way.”

Max appeared at the café door. “Everything okay?”

“No, nothing is,” Rory said on a bitter laugh. “Going to have to love you and leave you.” Then she peered between us. “I’m so sorry to do this now but I need a ride and I don’t think it can wait.”

“It’s yours, no question,” I uttered.

“But you two have only just started talking again.”

“We’re good, I’ll beat him up next time I’m home,” Max added, his more typical smirk back in place.

I was glad we’d done this, but now, my thoughts were on Rory and helping her. We returned to the car, Max in tow. He slapped my head by way of goodbye, then pulled Rory into a hard hug. I stood back and watched, anticipating the same kick of jealousy I’d had looking at her ex-boyfriend pictures online. But nothing came besides contentment in knowing they were once again friends.

With that, we got back on the road.

During the long drive home through the dark, Rory was mostly silent. She rang her sister, thankfully home, and who took up the task of finding a flight.

Elise texted back, and Rory read the message. “My flight is at ten tomorrow morning. I’m going to need to pack tonight to be ready to leave for early check-in.”

I got what she was saying. I’d have to drop off then leave her, and likely not see her again for a very long time. Regret chewed through me. In my mind, I’d planned out more fun days with her, and even better nights spent alone together in my cosy cottage. I wanted to get to know her more, to see how her investigations into the mystery money went down, just be around her.

But it wasn’t to be.

“I’m sorry ye have to leave like this.”

Rory didn’t reply and just stared out of the window.

By the time we reached the McRae estate, a new plan had formed in my mind, one borne of slight desperation.

We pulled up to Elise and Cameron’s crofthouse, and I parked then reached for Rory’s hand.

“Can I take ye to the airport in the morning? Maybe ye can sleep at mine. Or we can stay up all night and talk.”

She blinked at me, but then her car door was opened from the outside, and her sister appeared in the frame.

“Holy hell,” Elise said, peering over Rory like she was somehow injured. “Just answer me this, do you want me to come back with you? I will in a heartbeat. I’m sure your mom will be fine, but you don’t have to handle this alone.”

My own paltry offer of support paled into insignificance.

Rory sighed and hugged her sister. “Let’s get inside and we can talk. I’ll just say goodbye to Maddock.”

Elise popped the back door and grabbed Rory’s bag, then left us for a moment alone. Rory interlaced her fingers on her lap and turned to me.

“I wish we’d had more time together, but thank you for showing me your world. I won’t forget a minute of this vacation. Not the moment you rescued me from the mountain, the fun things we did together, the way you and Max stood together and I was so scared you were going to fight, or the look on your face now.”

Then she leaned over, pressed a soft kiss to my mouth, too fleeting for me to show her all the confusing, mixed-up emotions I felt inside. Then Rory jumped from my car and was gone.