One King's Way(48)

“Darcy—”

“Why didn’t you tell me about him?” She shook the iPad at me. “I’ve been worrying since you got here about why you were so fucking sad, hoping that it was just homesickness and that you’d get over it. But it was more than that. I could tell. So I called back home. Lucy said she barely heard from you the last few months you were in Scotland. She said you met some bartender called Craig and then fell off the radar.”

Weary, I slumped down in my computer chair. The flat didn’t have a third room I could use as an office so my bedroom was it. “His name is Craig Lanaghan.”

“And why don’t I know about him?”

Guilty at the hurt look on her face, I sighed. “You were in a bad place and I didn’t want to gloat about my new relationship.”

Her face flushed with anger. “Okay. Fine. How about telling me about him now? Now that you know I’m not in a bad place and have a wonderful man in my life?”

And so I did. I told her everything. About my plans for Angus and how it led me to Craig.

When I was finished, Darcy plopped back against my pillows, looking as exhausted as I felt. “I don’t even know where to start. Your misplaced need to avenge me or you leaving behind the man you love for me.”

“You come first,” I said automatically. “I promised myself I’d never let you down again.”

Darcy’s eyes widened. “Dear God, Rain, is that what this about?”

Feeling tears burn my eyes, I shook my head and looked at the floor. “I just didn’t want to lose you. And I would miss you too much if we were on the opposite sides of the world.”

“And what about him?”

I looked up and she was pointing at the picture again.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” she said, her voice filled with concern. “You love him. You miss him.”

“I’d miss you too.”

“But it’s different.” She shook her head. “Nothing will ever come between us. Nothing. Not a twenty-four-hour plane ride or an eleven-hour time difference. Nothing.” She held out her arm and turned it so I could see her tattoo.

DARRAIGN.

It was tattooed on her right arm.

“Rain. I know you will always truly have my back, and I don’t need you here in person, throwing your life into upheaval, to prove it. You need to be in the same fucking country as the man you love.”

I gave a huff of sad laughter. “We made a clean break. I’m here now. I just need to move on.”

“No.” Darcy got up off the bed and strode toward me. She lowered to her haunches, staring me straight in the eye. “You need to go home to Craig Lanaghan.”





Craig



The noise in the pub was getting to him.

It was a Saturday afternoon and he was there with his mates to watch football. The place was packed but they were lucky enough to have found a table.

Jokes were cracked, lager was drunk, and hoots and yells and curse words were thrown at the large flat screen televisions on the walls.

Craig stared into his lager and wondered not for the first time in three weeks whether he would ever find something funny enough to laugh at again.

He felt a nudge on his shoulder and turned to look at Stevie, who was crammed in next to him. “Maybe you just need to get laid,” he offered, concern in his eyes.

Obviously Craig wasn’t doing a very good job of looking happy to be there.

Despite knowing Stevie’s words were well meaning, Craig scowled at him. “Is that what you’d do if Audrey left you? Fuck the first bird that came along?”

Stevie glowered back at him . . . but then he turned away and lifted his pint to his mouth, muttering, “Fair point.”

Craig sighed and pulled out his wallet. He put a twenty on the table beside Stevie. “Sorry. Have a few on me. I’m heading home before work.”

“The game isn’t finished,” Stevie argued.

“Not in the mood.” He got up and ignored his friends’ good-natured name-calling as he left.

As Craig walked back to his flat he thought how fucked up it was that his city, a city that had been familiar and warm to him his whole life, felt so damn strange and empty these days.

He knew why, but he daren’t think her name.

When he got to his flat he felt a moment of apprehension rush through him when he found his door unlocked. Silently he turned the handle and on light feet he walked inside.

“It’s us, sweetheart!” his mother’s voice called out from the living room.

Relaxing at the identity of the intruder but confused as to why she was there, Craig shut his front door and strode into the heart of his flat.

He came to an abrupt halt at the sight of his mother, Maggie, and Jeannie. “What’s going on?”