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“Bawbag.”

“Stupid tosser.”

Lewis is about to say something else, but I hold up my hands.

“All right! I get the message. For what it’s worth, I agree with you, but . . . fuck! Is she really gone?” I tug at my hair, stress and despair clawing their way back into my psyche, the same emotions that sent me running from the hotel a few hours ago—running from Emily.

But no, fuck that! I clench my teeth and force away those thoughts. I need to get Emily back, and that won’t happen if I stand here feeling sorry for myself. Now isn’t the time to get lost in my head. Now is the time for action.

“My phone—I need my phone.”

Without another word, I shove past Lewis and into the office. Just as I didn’t grab a jacket when I stormed out, I didn’t take my phone either. I pick it up, and the screen shows missed calls. I scroll through them, seeing Lewis’s name and Jamie’s, as well as Elspeth’s and Aidan’s—my brothers must have filled them in—but there’s not a single missed call from Emily.

Of course there isn’t. Why would she contact me? I’m the one who messed up. It’s up to me to make this right, to reach out to her. I’d rather speak to her face to face, but needs must. I tap to call her, but it goes straight to voicemail.

“Bollocks! Has she turned her phone off?”

“What are you doing?” Jamie asks.

Both he and Lewis have followed me into the office.

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m trying to contact Emily—I’m trying to fix this—but I’m just getting her voicemail. When did she leave?”

Lewis glances at the clock. “About two and a half hours ago. You’ve been away for ages.”

“Shit! Another couple of hours and they’ll be out of Scotland. I’m not letting Emily return to England without trying to win her back. But I don’t have Grace’s number—or David’s. What do I do?” I look at my brothers helplessly.

“Er . . .” Jamie says. “Well, Grace made a booking with us, right? We always take either a phone number or an email address when someone makes a booking.”

“You genius!” I clap my hands on his shoulders. “I could kiss you!”

“Please don’t.”

Lewis is already tapping away at the laptop. “We have her email address,” he confirms.

“Crap, I’d have preferred her number, but we’ll work with what we’ve got. Can you email her, telling her to pull over and stall Emily at all costs? I’m going to drive south like my life depends on it.”

As Emily helped me to realise, I’m never going to be happy if I don’t take risks. That’s why I’m going to beg her to forgive me, beg her to give me another chance. It may be too late, but I’ll never know if I don’t try.

I make for the door.

“Hold up!” Jamie says. “If you’re planning to win her back, I wouldn’t go like that.” He nods at my wet clothes. “Maybe, you know . . . try to make yourself look nice, so she actually wants you back?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

EMILY

We’ve passed Glasgow and are on the motorway, having long since left the peaceful Highlands behind. Now there are cars everywhere, and the roads will only get busier as we continue our journey south. At least the rain has let up, but that’s done little to improve my mood.

According to a sign, we’re twelve miles from Carlisle, England’s most northerly city. Maybe I’ll feel better once we’re over the border. True, the boundary between the two countries is nothing but a line on a map, but I’m still desperate to put Scotland behind me.

A couple of hours ago, we stopped at a pretty village called Dunkeld for a bite to eat and to stretch our legs. After that, Grace and David swapped over with the driving. He’s now in the driver’s seat, while Grace is beside him in the front. I’m still in the back.

“Oh!” Grace says out of the blue.

None of us has talked for a while—we’ve been listening to the radio.

I peer around Grace’s seat to see she’s on her phone. “What is it?”