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EMILY

I wake up groaning, smarting at the light streaming through the window. I must have forgotten to shut the curtains last night.

God, what’s wrong with my mouth? It’s so dry, and my tongue feels like sandpaper. Ugh!

I push myself up to a sitting position, taking in my dishevelled appearance in the mirror: bloodshot panda eyes, hair sticking up in every direction, green dress crumpled because it’s been slept in . . .

Okay, so closing the curtains wasn’t the only pre-bed ritual I forgot.

I clamber out of bed, wobbling when a wave of hangover nausea hits me. I make it to the bathroom and fill a glass with water then glug the whole thing down. As I clutch the sink, hoping this dizzy, nauseous feeling will subside soon, memories from last night flood back.

Oh. My. God.

The dancing . . . the singing . . . Ally throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes . . .

Oh no. Oh, no, no, no. Did I play the drums on his bum?

Yes, I did. I beat his arse like I was in a marching band.

And I didn’t stop there. I invited him to sleep with me—more or less demanded it, in fact. And how did he react? He couldn’t get away fast enough—that’s how he reacted. He made it clear he has no wish to get involved with the crazy lady who does the bad Scottish accent and the atrocious Scottish dancing, and who just a few days ago was jilted on her wedding day.

Oh God.

I look at myself in the bathroom mirror.

What must he think of me? And what must the people of this town think of me after all my shenanigans in the pub?

I came here to escape a drama, and instead, I’ve become the centre of a new drama. I’m supposed to be here for a month. A month. How do I get through the rest of the holiday now? This was meant to be my time away from shame and humiliation. How can I show my face in Bannock again after my behaviour last night? And how can I meet Ally’s eye after begging him to come to bed with me, only for him to refuse?

I splash my face with cold water, trying to get a grip. Right, what are my options? Do I just laugh it off? Or do I claim ignorance, pretending I remember nothing? That’d be the easiest option, but I’m not sure folk would buy it. If I could at least get Ally to buy it, though . . .

Oh!

I close my eyes and rub at my temples. It’d be so much easier to think through this logically if I didn’t feel like crap.

All right, I should eat something. I might feel better once there’s food in my belly. Can I face going downstairs, though? Maybe I’d be better off skipping the hotel breakfast and getting something from Morag’s Bakery? But then again . . . the breakfast I had here yesterday was delicious, and it’s the sort of food I could do with right now.

I take another look at myself in the mirror. I can’t go downstairs like this anyway. I’m a complete mess.

So I shower, brush my teeth, dress, and try to make myself presentable, although there’s nothing I can do about the telling red eyes.

I head downstairs, only to find the restaurant empty. A clock shows it’s quarter to ten. Crap. Breakfast was only served until half past nine, wasn’t it?

I’m just about to leave when noises come from the kitchen. I wander over and peer through the open door. Lewis, the middle brother, is tidying up.

“Morning!” I say. “Have I missed breakfast?”

He glances up from a pot he’s cleaning and grins. God, he is disgustingly handsome, even when cleaning a greasy pot. Still, it’s his older brother, Ally, who does it for me, although as I discovered last night, my attraction to the more rugged and rough-edged Ally is a one-way thing.

“Morning, Emily!” Lewis says. “Officially, we stopped serving fifteen minutes ago, but what can I get you?”

“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother. I’ll just pick up something from the bakery down the road.”

“Don’t be silly! Tell me what you’d like, and I’ll get it for you. It’s no bother at all.”

“Well, yesterday I had the vegetarian breakfast, and it was amazing. I don’t want to put you out, but if you’re sure it’s not too much hassle—”

“One vegetarian breakfast, coming right up. And how about juice, cereal, yogurt, fruit? Oh, and do you drink coffee or tea?”