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“You pulled her, did you?” his dad asked, a knowing twinkle in his eye.
“Yes, I did,” Ruairidh said, raising both hands like he was surrendering. “Guilty.”
“A Dhia! What?” his mum shrieked, dropping the tea towel and nearly knocking over mugs.
“I’ve seen her in passing up at the airport, but let’s see the pictures proper then,” his dad said, waving for the phone.
His mum brought it over and started swiping like she was inspecting auction cows. “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” she crooned.
Ìosa, she was probably already imagining the wedding.
“Ooft! You did good, son,” his dad said, nodding with approval. “She’s Annag MacInnes’ granddaughter, right?”
“She is!” his mum jumped in. “Takes after their side—all stunning, that family. And nice too. Oh, Ruairidh, I’m so happy! And about bloody time too. What took you so long?”
“Muuum…” he groaned. What was it about parents that could make you feel thirteen again with a single sentence?
“Come on! We’ve been hinting for ages. Everyone could see you were mooning over each other.”
“What?”
“Do you think we’re blind? Then you went and let that Spanish surfer have his way with her!”
Fucking hell, he did not want to go there.
“Mum!”
“Well, we all knew that was just a fling. Never serious. But still—time wasted.”
“Time wasted for what, Mum?”
“She’s only meant to be here for a year! You could give her a reason to stay. Oh, just imagine…” She sighed dramatically and gazed toward the ceiling.
“Ìosa Crìost, Màiri, you’ve got them married already,” his dad said, thankfully stepping in. “Give him a break—he’s only just back himself.”
“Taing, Dad.”
His mum shot his dad a meaningful look and gave him a nudge.
“But, eh… don’t dilly-dally,” his dad added quickly. “A woman like that doesn’t come round too often, you know.”
Ruairidh looked over at Màiri, who was positively glowing with smugness.
Gossip: apparently a valid hangover cure.
“Well, actually, Màiri—I was going to ask you for Jenn’s number today. I forgot to get it last night. Think she’ll mind you giving it to me?”
“Weeeeeeee!” Màiri squealed, nearly dropping her tea and scattering bacon everywhere. “Mum, give me my phone back!”
“Oh yes!” his mum said, practically skipping over. “I’m so happy and proud of you, m’ eudail!” She bent down and gave him a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.
“I’ll make you all the pancakes and bacon in the world for this!”
Chapter 27
“I really like him. He’s a good ’un,” Vivi declared, shoving a massive wedge of chocolate fudge cake into her mouth.
She’d already had Victoria sponge for first breakfast—this was now second breakfast. Nestled in a bed of throws on the couch like a queen, Vivi was holding court and demanding more cake by the minute. Morag, clearly onside, was snuggled up beside her, purring contentedly.
