Page 31 of One for the Road
He only nodded. Apparently, I was predictable.
I bent to lift the hem of my jeans, but Alistair beat me to it. Stealing all ability of speech as he lowered to his knees and took my ankle in his grip. Right there, in front of everyone. Gently squeezing, he rolled up the denim before his hand cupped the back of my calf. Softer than how he’d touched me at Brown’s, and for the life of me, I couldn’t recall if I’d shaved this morning.
“You kept them dry for the first forty-eight hours?” Head bent, he probed the still slightly tender flesh with a cool finger.
I tried not to shiver.Was I seriously this touch-starved that I was holding back a moan from a calf squeeze? Was this Victorian London?
I had to bite my lip. This was twice now that he’d been on his knees before me. My gaze slid over the frames of his glasses, falling to his lips. They were parted, his tongue just resting on the cusp of the lower, and for the first time, I imagined what it would be like to kiss my neighbour.
The thought was like a gunshot through my mind. Sudden and earth-shattering.
“Isla?”
His lips curled, teeth flashed, like he could read minds. “You’re staring, Lang.”I was. And he was staring back.
What the hell was happening?
Time stretched. My blood was boiling, rising to the surface of my skin, my heart had slipped somewhere low in my stomach. I should say something. Anything to break this moment. The rational part of my brain was telling me we were drawingattention. Duncan would be staring for sure. Alistair’s family too. I couldn’t be sure; I’d have to break his gaze to check.
A glass clinked from across the room. A voice calling for attention. I scarcely heard it, too focused on Alistair’s slow exhale. Whatever that strange moment had been shattered as he quickly tugged the leg of my jeans back down. “It’s healing nicely, wait another day or two and you can soak the stitches off with warm water.”
I stood, nodding, my head feeling separate from my body. The sensation only grew as I spied Annabelle climbing onto a chair at the front of the room, a magnetic smile on her perfectly even features.
“Kinleith Village Committee members, please can I have your attention.” Dressed head to toe in white, Annabelle waved a hand above her head, the other tightly clutching a clipboard to her chest. “Firstly, thank you all for taking the time out of your busy lives to be here. Let’s give Malcolm Macabe and April Sinclair a big round of applause for offering to host.”
I glanced at the bar, watching as Mal blushed at the attention, and remembered exactly why Annabelle had run for committee leader unopposed. As much as I loathed to admit it, she was a natural people person.
That unicorn of a woman who never missed an opportunity to make someone feel valued. She remembered everyone by name, sent the entire village a Christmas card and gave out free birthday cupcakes at the bakery. Last summer, she’d single-handedly organised a fun run to raise money for the lifeboat service, then refused the offer to have a boat named after her becauseshe was just doing what anyone would do.
I’d tried not to feel inferior to her. Tried not to feel jealous every time Cameron said, “Annie’s amazing, right?”
As the applause petered out, Annabelle made a tick against her clipboard.
I felt Alistair shift, far too aware as his breath curled over my ear. “Think she had to write that down, pause for applause?”
If anyone else had said it, I would have laughed, but my heart was still slamming in my chest.
Because of Alistair or Annabelle? I couldn’t decide. I bit my lip, pointedly ignoring him as Annabelle kept talking, tucking a perfectly glossy brown curl behind her ear. “Item one on tonight’s agenda is the top tourist complaint going into the summer season. The haunted graveyard tour has started charging extra for ghosts. Dale, you really need to put a stop to this.”
The entire room laughed, utterly charmed by her. She grinned at their attention, like a beauty queen ready to take her crown.
I felt my shoulders curl inwards. Being in the same room as her felt like death by a thousand cuts, every glaringly obvious reason why Cameron had left me for her on display for all to see.
She was older than me, not that you could tell. She probably bathed in snail mucus or something because she was Benjamin-Buttoning her way through life.
Tuning her out, I let my eyes stray to the clock on the wall, watching the hands tick past eight o’clock as concerned committee members argued over the best way to handle zoning regulations for the end-of-summer festival.
Alistair, obviously anticipating my dark mood, stood silently at my side through it all. His elbow occasionally brushed mine as he brought his water to his lips.
It was after nine when Annabelle finally said, “I know some of you are eager to sign up for this year’s Cairn & Crust.” She tucked her clipboard beneath her arm. “Just a quick note: there’s been a few rule changes this year. In honour of the event’s fiftieth anniversary, the prize fund has been bumped up to five thousand pounds.”
Five thousand pounds.
A ripple of excitement swept through the room. I felt it too, letting out a small laugh before she added, more firmly: “That brings me to the second change: all participants must enter as a couple. I repeat, you must be part of a couple to take part.”
An audible gasp swept the room. Or maybe the sound came from me.
Around me, chairs squeaked. Phones were pulled out to text partners.
