Always You (Adair Family 3)

“Arro’s avoiding me. Last week, I understood. But another week has passed, and she hasn’t reached out. She hasn’t returned to my class either.”

“And how does that make you feel?”

I sighed impatiently. “Irritated.”

“And?”

“Agitated.”

“Mac”—Iona’s lips twitched—“what’s beneath the agitation?”

Leaning forward, elbows on knees, I stared out at the River Ness. “I let myself hope after we’d had an honest conversation. I thought maybe there was a chance. But her avoiding me just preys on all my …” I hated even saying the word. “Insecurities.”

“Have you been practicing the techniques we discussed?”

“Aye.” I looked back at her. “They help. But this week, I’ve had a lot of moments when I had to catch myself from falling back into the bad habit of convincing myself she’s better off without me.”

“But you caught yourself? The techniques helped?”

“Aye, but it’s tiring.”

“It is,” she agreed sympathetically. “And worth it. Now … how do you know Arro’s avoiding you?”

I frowned. “Because I haven’t seen her.”

“Has she not been taking your calls?”

“Eh, I haven’t called her.”

Iona shrugged. “Why not?”

“I thought she needed space to think about everything.”

“Did Arro tell you she needed space?”

“She said she needed time.”

“Time and space are related, but they’re not the same thing. Arro might well be able to process your relationship while still spending time with you. If you’d like to see her, Mac, all you have to do is ask. She might not agree to it, but at least you’ll have taken a step to move things forward.”

I’d almost forgotten how busy the club could be during the summer months. Last summer was quieter than usual because of the chaos Lucy had wreaked on us all. Lachlan had canceled his annual summer solstice ceilidh, but it was going ahead this year, and there were people completing tasks all over the estate to prepare for it. Club members who owned private residences had flown in to spend their summers here, and the castle was soon to be near full capacity. Most members couldn’t stay longer than a few days, but they’d all flown in for the ceilidh.

I’d been in the kitchen talking to the estate chef, Rafaella, because her sous chef was convinced supplies were missing from the pantry and fridge. We went into her small office off the kitchen to discuss the possibility one of her staff was stealing, and I told her we’d check the kitchen’s security camera footage. I further offered to speak with Lachlan about installing a discreet camera into the pantry and refrigerator area.

Lachlan called at that moment and told me he needed me down at Loch Ardnoch, a private loch on the estate where Lachlan had built several cabins, one of which Eredine ran her Pilates, yoga, and mindfulness classes from.

I strode past the great hall, glancing into it, so used to the grandeur of its sweeping staircase, stained glass windows, and medieval fireplace that I barely noticed it now. Except on days when it was busy like this. A few members chatted on the chesterfield sofas by the unlit fire, while the company Lachlan had hired to decorate were up on tall ladders, taking measurements along the galleried balcony.

Housekeeper Sarah McCulloch, granddaughter of local farmer Collum McCulloch, and another housekeeper named Mallory were on hands and knees working a stain out of one of the expensive red carpets.

I was about to slip down the corridor to our offices and through a side exit door that led directly across the golf course toward the loch when my path was blocked by Hollywood actor Iris Benning. Halting, I raised an eyebrow at her sudden appearance.

She’d only recently become a club member after garnering her second consecutive Oscar nomination. Tall, athletic, apparently talented (though I wouldn’t know because I hadn’t seen any of her films), the brunette held herself with a confidence that belied her years.

And considering I knew her to be only twenty, the look in her eye made me a wee bit uncomfortable.

“Ms. Benning, is there a problem?” I kept my tone neutral, professional.

Her dark eyes glittered with a come-on that was as unnerving as it was unmistakable. She stepped into my personal space, uncaring if anyone was watching. “Please, Mac, call me Iris.” At my silence, she smirked. “You know, I’ve been here for four days, and I’ve been watching you, but you’ve been too polite to watch me back.”