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“Especially since there won’t be a wedding,” Fiona whispers.
“Either way, let’s plan on a girls’ night out. Shall we? Drinks and dancing. You’ll love the girls from my firm.”
Imagining Fiona at a club, wearing a short skirt and dancing around other men, I’m reaching my boiling point. “Freya?—”
Fiona interrupts, her soft voice diffusing the situation as she changes the subject. “I’m not one for going out. Really. But thank you for the offer. I tell you what, I have fallen into a side hobby I think you’d enjoy, Freya.”
“Pray tell!”
Fiona describes a craft she’s learning: making metal stamps for wax seals, the kind you put on the back of envelopes. I find myself leaning forward in interest as she speaks, studying her delicate features and listening to the way her voice lilts.
Never thought I’d be so interested in crafting but when it comes from her pretty lips I’m intrigued.
“Do you have a name for this house?” Fiona asks me.
“No,” I say.
Fiona smiles. “A grand house like this. It’s worthy of a name. And a seal to match. If you dinnae mind me saying.”
“Mind?” Freya laughs. “This will be your house just as much as ours. And wouldn’t a seal be a lovely way to seal your wedding invitations?”She puts a gentle hand over Fiona’s. “When yer ready, love.”
Fiona goes quiet, clamming up as she does when the wedding matter is discussed.
“Isn’t that right, Callum?” I feel the pointy toe of Freya’s shoe kicking me under the table. She gives me a pointed look, directing me to say something nice.
“Yeah. If you’d like a seal, we’ll have one.” I take a big gulp of tea. “Anything you’d like.”
"What about you, Callum?" Freya asks with a knowing look in her eye. “We’re all from the island, but we ran in different circles. Tell Fiona something about yourself.”
As always, Freya’s nosing into my life. She’s had a personal mission to force me to “connect” on a deeper level, to “share” my feelings and other fluffy stuff I loathe. The only way I need to connect with my bride-to-be is physically. I know how to make her cave to my ways, to crave and need me.
"I think we all know enough about me," I say with a dismissive wave.
"Aye. But not everyone knows how you came to be the lord of this castle," Freya says teasingly. “That’s a story worth telling.”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I prefer to talk about something else. "I'm sure Fiona doesn't want to hear about that," I say gruffly.
To my annoyance, Freya’s piqued her interest. Fiona speaks up. " I'd love to hear." I stare at her momentarily, deciding whether to give in to her request.“Please,” Fiona adds softly.
It’s my undoing. If only she knew I’d do anything for her, she may be more eager to marry me.
“You know we had an issue with the Hoax. How they tried to use our island as a stop on their people-trafficking route.”
“Yes,” she nods. “I remember. All of us girls on the island were terrified. But we knew the Kings would protect us.”
“Aye, we will.” Pride wells up in my chest at her words, hearing the trust in her tone.
Nearly a decade ago, Cailean Bayne—goes by Bayne—and I put aside our families’ differences. We buried the century-old grudge, a dispute over a piece of land, and came together to form the Kings Mafia. Buying an old, gray stone cathedral on the island, Bayne and our men restored it, calling it the Bayne-Burnes house or the Kings Castle.
Our men unified in that building, pledging undying loyalty to one another and swearing to protect the more vulnerable people of our island.
“Tell the story,” Freya nudges.
I say, “After Clive Smith turned on us and introduced the Hoax to our island, Bayne and I decided the Kings needed a place in Glasgow to gather men, make a stand, and observe the comings and goings of the gang. With Kitt just moving here from the States and settling on the island, I didn’t think it’d be fair to upheave her. And I knew I had Freya here. We decided I would be the one to come.”
“And I’m so thankful ye did. I love this city, but having no family around was a bit lonely. I took him around and showed him the real estate. I tried to hook you up with my realtor friend, didn’t I, Callum? But he wasn’t having it. It seems he’s only got eyes for one?—”
“Anyway,” I cut her off, finishing the story I didn’t want to tell in the first place. “I wanted something more modest but Freya already had her heart set on this place.” Freya and I share a look. “She brought me here last, knowing I’d fall for the view of the sea, same as we had at home.”
