Page 24 of Knots About You
‘You’ll be giving him a big head,’ Isla said with a groan.
‘That’s what they are hoping to see in the next video.’ Lola burst into a cackle at her joke.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. ‘I’m trying to sell whisky.’
‘Great news,’ Isla said. ‘Eight new tasting bookings have come since the video went up. A food mag emailed asking if you do experiences. Ithinkshe means whisky-based.’
‘Experiences,’ I repeated, like the word was alien.
‘Relax, you did your job. Just need to stand there and look pretty.’ Eilidh patted me on the shoulder, and I grumbled.
Kenny piped up from behind the bar. ‘What do the comments say about our Owen?’
God help me.
Isla read loud enough for everyone to look. ‘“If he knocked my barrel, I’d combust.” “Green Kilt Daddy.” “He can pet mykitty any day.” “He can bed me over that barrel for a good hammering.” The internet has discovered you and they are...’
‘Crazy.’ I drank. It didn’t help. ‘This is mortifying.’
‘This isworking.’ Isla shrugged. ‘We want younger. We want women. Women who will drink whisky and enjoy looking at nice things. As much as it pains me that anyone thinks you’re hot.Gross.’
‘Objectification. Fantastic.’
‘Oh, boo hoo.’ Eilidh patted my shoulder. ‘I bet you love it really.’
The compliments were nice, but the attention made me uncomfortable. What if Becky posted something to capitalise on the buzz?No. I had to believe she’d moved on.
Lola arched a brow. ‘What about your English girl?’
‘She’s not mine,’ I said, cutting off that conversation with my tone.
Eilidh, Emma and Lola soon wandered back to their table, likely to gossip about how tetchy I sounded.
Isla rested her chin on her palm. ‘Whatareyou doing with Claire? Are your intentions honourable?’
My dreams over the past week had been aeons away from honourable.
‘Nothing, just helping her out a bit.’
‘Don’t hurt her. I like this one.’ Isla said.
‘I’m your brother, shouldn’t you be having the don’t hurt him talk with her? She’s interested inme.’ I took a long sip of lager.
‘Well, duh, of course she is.’ Isla rolled her eyes. ‘You’re a walking postcard for Scotland. A kilt-wearing, whisky-swilling, R-rolling menace. Who better for a city escaping holiday fling?’
‘Right,’ I said lightly. ‘Hilarious.’
Isla’s face flipped from smug to sorry in a heartbeat.
‘Hey. Look at me.’
I did.
‘You know I’m kidding? The woman looks at you like you’re her favourite tattie scone.’
I shrugged, wishing the ground would swallow me. Talking about the red-haired woman I was mooning over with my sister wasn’t my idea of relaxing.
‘She walked into a pub full of strangers just to see you. That’s something.’
