“Only if you want Arro to eviscerate you,” Ery muttered under her breath.
Mackennon Galbraith, the head of security at Ardnoch Estate, was my sister Arro’s fiancé. It hadn’t surprised me, after observing the two of them upon my return to Scotland, that they’d ended up together. Mac was thirteen years older than Arro, which had proven a sticking point for a while, but they were perfect for each other. The age difference didn’t matter.
I laughed at Ery’s response because it was true, and gave the woman a nod out of respect for Lachlan before the SUV drove down Main Street well over the twenty-mile-per-hour speed limit.
“I rarely say this, but I really dislike that woman,” Eredine confessed as we continued to Flora’s Café for lunch.
“Who is she?”
She quirked an eyebrow in surprise. “You don’t know? I thought you knew.”
“She’s familiar, but I can’t place her.”
“Iris Benning. Hollywood’s latest darling. She’s been nominated for two Oscars, and this is her third visit to the club in the past year. She was in my class just this morning, and I overheard her talking about Mac like he was a piece of meat.” Ery scowled. “One of the other guests told her that Mac was engaged, and she said she didn’t care.”
“Mac can take care of himself,” I assured Ery.
“It’s not the point. Mac has told her himself that he’s not interested, and she’s still going for it like she’s entitled to him just because she wants him. That’s harassment.”
Suspicion prickled the back of my neck at Eredine’s passionate response to Iris Benning. “You’re right,” I agreed. “But like I said, Mac won’t put up with it, and Lachlan won’t either.” One thing I admired most about Lachlan was that he didn’t give a shit who someone was or how much money they had—if they crossed the line with someone he cared about, he wouldn’t put up with it. His wife, Robyn, told me he’d thrown the actor Sebastian Stone out of Ardnoch, ending his membership, for accosting Robyn on the estate. Then about eight months ago, Stone hit the global headlines when several women came forward to accuse him of sexual assault. The Oscar winner had been canceled, losing the part of a title character in an upcoming TV show as he awaited trial.
I’d wondered if Lachlan had a hand in unearthing those women, but he wouldn’t admit to anything. After finding out he’d cut Arro’s ex-boyfriend off from the culinary industry for assaulting her, however, I wouldn’t put anything past Lachlan when it came to avenging his family.
“I know.” Ery brought me out of my musings. “Mac won’t stand for it. He’s so in love with your sister, he wouldn’t allow anyone to jeopardize that.”
Hearing something akin to longing in her tone, I studied her profile as we walked. “Do you want that?”
She looked at me in confusion as we stopped outside Flora’s. “Want what?”
“What Mac and Arro have?”
Eredine smiled, that sweet, perfect fucking smile. “No one will ever have what they have. It’s something truly special.”
I furrowed my brow. “Don’t you think my brothers have that with Robyn and Regan?”
“What they have is special, too, of course … but Arro and Mac …” She tilted her head in thought. “It’s literally like they’re two halves of a whole. When she moves, he moves and vice versa. It’s always been that way. I was so afraid they’d never find a path to each other because I knew they’d never be complete until that moment.”
Something a little like shame filled me because I’d seen it, too, on the rare occasions I’d come home. Deep down, I knew Arro was miserable without Mac. But I’d stayed away. I hadn’t talked to her about it. I’d left her.
Thank Christ it had all worked out for her in my absence.
“Hey, you okay?” Ery asked.
“Fine,” I lied. “Let’s eat before our lunch break is over.”
Holding the door for Ery, I waited for her to enter the café first, and she thanked me with a small, secretive smile I wanted to kiss right off her lips. She smelled of the same perfume she wore every day—light and floral, not overpowering. I’d fantasized about waking up to that perfume on my bedsheets too many times to count.
Letting go of the door, I moved to her side and drew to an abrupt halt at the redhead walking toward the exit we blocked.
She faltered, too, her big eyes round with surprise. “Arran?”
I shook my head, sure I was seeing things.
But nope.
There she was.
Monroe Sinclair.
“Roe?” I gaped at her.
Monroe swallowed nervously, staring up at me. She was still short, curvy, and bloody adorable. In fact, she barely looked older than the last time I saw her, which was … shit … eighteen years ago. “How … how are you?” she asked.
Letting out a surprised chuckle, I moved toward her and lifted her into a hug. Monroe let out a shocked gasp, but thankfully, it petered into a giggle as she hugged me back. Placing her on her feet, I turned to find Ery watching us with a frown. “Ery, this is Monroe. She was Brodan’s best friend growing up, and I haven’t seen her”—I turned back to Roe—“in eighteen years.”