Mr. Knightsbridge (The Mister 1)

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“I’m not going to confess stuff like that when we first start dating, am I? I have to save the dodgy taste and bad habits until it’s too late. I guess now is as good a time as any to confess . . .” He took a deep breath. “I love the Carpenters.”

I collapsed into laughter. In some ways Beck had a gigantic ego—mainly wrapped up with his work and his lack of family money—but he threw me a curveball every now and then by not giving a shit what people thought about him.

“Let’s drive—we can sing along in peace,” I suggested.

We turned back to Karen and she rolled her eyes. “So that’s two people down. Matt and I will drive too to give us some alone time.”

A week ago, a comment like that would have hurt, brought her betrayal back with a vengeance. But now her comments slid off me like oil to my water—she’d lost the power to hurt me. She wasn’t working for my forgiveness. She seemed determined to only care about herself. I’d always been envious of her independence, of the way she charged through life, fearless and determined. But she wasn’t so much fearless as careless. She wasn’t so much determined as detached from people’s feelings.

I’d been looking through dirty glass for years and suddenly someone had come along with some white vinegar and a cleaning cloth. But just because I could see her clearly didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It also meant I was always looking around, wondering where the other dirty windows were. Who else was I seeing the way I wanted to see them rather than the way they really were?

I didn’t trust my judgement.

“Is that okay?” Beck asked as we headed toward the car. “Are you worried the rental is too new money?”

I laughed. “How come you wanted to drive?” I asked.

“Rather than sit on a bus and play eye spy? I’d definitely rather drive.” He aimed the key fob at the car and the lights flashed before he opened the passenger door. “We can hang out, you can give me shit, and make me laugh. And I wasn’t joking about the Carpenters either.”

I climbed into the car, fiddling with my phone. Bringing up their greatest hits on Spotify, I nestled the phone into the holder on the dash, connecting it to the Bluetooth. “What do you want first?” I asked as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Close To You? Superstar?”

“I don’t mind. Start at the top.”

The first song was Superstar. The intro played, and the first line rang out. “I thought you were going to sing?” I said.

“I’m not good at multitasking,” he said as he made a sharp left turn onto the drive, heading out of the hotel grounds. “Given how anxious you get in the car, I would have thought you would want me to concentrate.”

“Just when it’s rain—”

Before I could finish my sentence, he launched into a word-perfect sing-along, complete with intonation and emphasis.

“You not joining in?” he asked at a break between verses.

“Oh, I’m appreciating it as a spectator rather than a member of the band.” I tried to swallow down a laugh, though it wasn’t at his singing. It was more that `` easy listening.

He fiddled with the steering wheel and the music faded into the background. “So, tell me a bit about Fort William. Is that where the secrets of the upper classes are buried? Am I going to commit social suicide if I don’t know that Matt’s grandfather founded the place in fourteen fifty-seven?”

Beck might think that buying the Dawnay building was going to lay to rest some ghosts, but something told me it wasn’t the building that was going to heal the hurt Beck still held.

“Well, from what Florence told me, today is just a lunch overlooking Loch Linne.”

“I can’t believe we’re not hiking here. We’re a stone’s throw away from Ben Nevis. The area’s beautiful. I looked it up and the hiking is really just a walk through the grounds.” He shook his head. “I suppose they have to cater to the majority. It just seems such a waste of the landscape around here.”

“I’ve never hiked in Scotland, but from what I’ve seen, it looks like it would be gorgeous.”

“You’ve been up here and never hiked? You’ve got to be kidding me. The boys and I practically lived up here doing our Duke of Edinburgh gold award.”

“I guess I’ve only ever been up with Matt and he never wanted to hike. Didn’t like the rain.”

“Well, I’m going to bring you back and we’re going to hike.”

I held my breath, waiting for him to follow up his comment. Had he meant to suggest future plans? It was just the two of us in the car. There was no need to put on a show, so why was he suggesting we come back here? I’d seen Beck and I as a temporary thing—a holiday romance—but was he thinking that we might be more? My heartbeat began to boom in my ears, like a siren blasting—warning me—but of what? I wasn’t going to let myself think about it. I was determined just to enjoy the moment with Beck and be grateful he was healing the wounds Matt had created.

“No camping though, right?” It was as noncommittal a reply as I could come up with.

“I’m not making any promises. Waking up in the middle of nature—it’s . . . That kinda shit’s important.”