It was a warning. He hoped she heard it loud and clear. With tense movements, he turned to the guest room and flicked on the light. There were two small single beds made up with faded pink blankets. Equally faded pony wallpaper, a white wardrobe and dresser set and a box of well-used dolls made up the rest of the room. Josh stared at the tiny beds for a beat before picking one and lying on it. His legs hung over the end from his knees.
“You have got to be kidding me,” he shouted.
Through the walls, he heard the muffled sound of Caroline’s laughter.
Josh folded his arms and looked up at a poster of a horse someone had pinned to the ceiling. Caroline had backed him into a corner. He could do as she expected, which was pretty much obey her every wish. Or…
Josh grinned up at the horse. Yeah, he liked that second option a whole lot better.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The first thing Josh did after he discovered that Caroline had snuck out the house before dawn was go shopping. He hit the Invertary high street like it was Rodeo Drive. He sorted out a new TV and satellite, paying extra to have it installed that afternoon. Then he bought a tool set from the guy at the hardware store, who made some sort of dig about singers knowing more about hair gel than hammers. The grocery store was next, where, for a price, he convinced them to deliver everything he needed later in the day. By the time lunch rolled around he was hungry, but satisfied. He’d managed to tick off all his chores and hadn’t gotten accosted by a fan even once. In fact, to his delight, he discovered that no one in Invertary cared who he was. It was actually kind of cool.
As he pushed open the door to The Scottie Dog, he spotted Mitch sitting on a high stool at the long, dark wooden bar.
“Cold beer, not that warm stuff that comes from the tap. Proper ice-cold beer,” he told Dougal as he slapped Mitch on the back.
“Only sissy foreigners drink their beer cold.” Dougal handed over an ice-cold bottle of beer.
“Grab a table, we’ve got stuff to go over.” Mitch folded his laptop.
“How are the wedding plans coming along?” Dougal boomed.
Josh wondered if the guy had any volume control whatsoever.
“I think it’s going fine. I’m leaving it to Caroline and the wedding planner. As far as I’m concerned, my job is to turn up, not get drunk and say I do when asked.”
Dougal nodded wisely. “Women’s stuff.”
Josh headed over to the booth Mitch had nabbed by the window. “What’s up?” Josh put his beer on the table opposite Mitch.
Mitch looked tired; there were circles under his eyes. “I’m moving out of the castle. I got a room here. I can’t stand the noise anymore.”
“Join th
e club. I moved in with Caroline.”
“Are you sure that’s any more peaceful than the castle?”
“I’m working on it. What do you want to talk about?”
“The usual—the record company want a date for the next album. I want to know what studio to book. There’s a bunch of memorabilia you need to sign off on. Some group in Norway wants to cover one of your singles. Some socialite wants to know if you’ll play her birthday party—she has money to throw around and keeps upping it every time I tell her you don’t do that sort of thing. We’ve had about a million requests for interviews. We’re still one of the hot topics on E! News—they love the barricade, especially now it’s being manned by a group of middle-aged women who knit and gossip. Oh, and a life-sized cutout of Lake Benson in his underpants. What else? Your accountant needs to talk to you. Stevie has a new song he wants you to hear, and People magazine want the rights to your wedding photos.”
Josh took a slow swallow. “So not much, then?”
Mitch let out a frustrated chuckle. “The sooner we get out of Scotland and back to normal, the better.”
“Caroline wants to live here permanently.” Josh watched his friend’s eyes bug wide. “She wants to keep working at the community centre.”
Mitch looked at the ceiling. “You told her things are going to change, right? That being in the public eye can screw things up?”
“Yeah.” He paused. “She said I’m not Prince William.”
Mitch started to laugh. Josh turned to Dougal, who came over armed with menus. “Forgot to ask if you’re hungry.”
“Starving. What’s good?”
Dougal stuck his nose in the air as if offended. “Everything.”