Page 4 of Midnight Mooring

His gaze flashed to the man at my side. “You know Torin?”

Torin.

What an interesting name. I felt better knowing my brother was acquainted with him.

“Ish.” I smiled at the stranger. “So, you’re Torin, are you?”

Again, he didn’t smile, but that twinkle lingered in his eyes as he replied, “Torin Montrose.”

The name was familiar. “Not Torin Montrose of the Montrose brothers who bought a large portion of the Isle of Scaris to build their resort on?”

“That’s a bit of an unwieldy moniker. I usually just go by Torin.”

Unwieldy moniker? I raised an eyebrow, my interest piqued.

“Your brother did some work for me.”

“Here, let me take that.” Quinn reached for the backpack.

Torin handed it over. “I’ve got a meeting with Aodhan I need to get to. Nice to see you, Quinn.” His aqua eyes held mine a moment too long. “I hope to see you around, Cameron.”

A giddy flutter of attraction distracted my stomach from its current roiling. “I hope so too.”

He nodded and strode down the dock. He stopped to say something to Forde, bringing me crashing back to earth. I didn’t know what words were exchanged, but Forde’s demeanor was congenial.

“He doesn’t do relationships.”

My head whipped to my brother.

He looked displeased. “Before you get any ideas about Torin Montrose, he’s a player.”

“That man?” Disappointed, my shoulders slumped. “That rugged, age-appropriate gentleman is another commitment-phobic man-child?”

Quinn snorted. “I don’t know about the rest, but I do know he told me he doesn’t do serious relationships.”

Well, damn it.

That ruled him out.

I was over casual sex for the rest of my life. I’d decided that before last week, but definitely more so now than ever.

I wanted something real and permanent, where I knew the man better than I knew myself because he was happy to confide in me all his deepest, darkest fears and all his dreams.

“It’s like you, Ramsay, and Murray are the last men on earth who want to settle down,” I grumbled, referring to my best friends’ partners.

“Not the last.” He gave me a knowing look. “No more procrastinating. Your bag is as heavy as a small elephant, and Forde won’t disappear into thin air.”

“Har-de-har-har,” I replied sarcastically as we strolled toward a waiting Forde.

Our friend seemed to shift nervously on his feet, and I tried to look at him and merely see an average bloke. I didn’t want our friendship to continue with the immature sniping and harmful banter that had plagued it before I left. The only way I could think to move on was to not look at Forde Dallas and see the most beautiful man I’d ever known with his dark, dark eyes and almost black hair that used to flop around his face in gorgeous silky strands. He’d cut it shorter, shaved at the sides, and his stubble had grown into a short, well-groomed beard. Tattoos peeked above the neckline of his dark blue jumper, and he had jammed his large hands into his dark blue jeans pockets.

Familiarity and longing overwhelmed me as my gaze automatically zeroed in on his mouth.

Unsettling attraction flustered me as always, which was a depressing-as-fuck start to my “moving on” plans.

Focus on his physical defects.

He didn’t have any defects!