Chapter 30

Ramsay

In that moment, I hated myself.

But I needed Willow to walk away.

I'd failed spectacularly. And I almost lost her forever. Seeing her disappearing into that burning building had done something to my heart that I wasn't sure I'd ever recover from.

She'd almost died because of me and my messed-up family dynamics.

That brilliant burst of sparkles and light could have been snuffed out because Andrew had taken his vengeance too far this time.

Willow needed to go home where she was safe, because clearly, I couldn't keep her safe here.

I was angry.

Angry that Andrew had betrayed me again.

Angry that Willow had almost gotten hurt.

Angry at myself, for betraying Miles by sleeping with his sister.

It was more than just sleeping together, my brain whispered to me. Which, I fecking knew, because it took everything in my power not to chase Willow down and beg her to forgive me for being an absolute jerk just now. Because I had been. On purpose. I needed Willow to put the distance there. I couldn't do it myself. I'd fall head over heels for her and somehow try to figure out how to spend the rest of my days keeping her safe.

She'd infiltrated my business. My bedroom. My mind. Like someone shooting off a confetti cannon in my heart. There were colorful pieces of her everywhere I looked, even now in the smoldering ruins of my shop, the vase of flowers she'd put on my desk half-melted.

And so I let the best thing that had ever happened to me walk away because I was just so damn angry that I couldn't see straight. Turning, I stomped down the street and straight through the doors of The Tipsy Thistle, even though it was early for the lunch rush. Graham looked up in surprise from where he held a clipboard behind the bar.

"Hey, mate. Sorry to hear about the shop. That's a rough go of it."

"Whisky."

"Yes, sir."

And so it began.

A week later,Graham told me I was no longer welcome at his pub.

Turns out, I'm not a good drunk when I'm miserable. Who knew?

Still, I decided to test how "really" kicked out I was by returning to The Tipsy Thistle after I downed a bottle of wine by the ruins of my old shop.

It had been a hell of a week.

The absence of Willow in my life was becoming unbearable.

Which was ridiculous. I'd been fine before she'd come along. I should have been fine after.

And yet I wasn't.

Not even a wee bit.

Not even at all.

The reasons that had made sense to me the day after the fire had begun to blur under my need to see her, to hear her laughter, to dive into the softness that was Willow. Instead, I was driving my parents crazy by coming home late, sleeping on the couch until noon, and overall being such a crabbit beastie that even my own mum had suggested that I return to my place in Edinburgh.

My own mother.

Could you believe it?

Willow's laugh stopped me in my tracks, just inside the door, and I drank in the sight of her like a prisoner seeing the outside world for the first time in years.

"Nope, mate. You're out," Graham snapped, rounding the bar and coming toward me.

Willow turned from where she sat between Agnes and Sophie, her eyes wounded as she looked at me. I'd been the one to put that look on her face.

"Just let me talk to her," I said, pushing past Graham.

"You've been drinking."

"Just some wine. I thought she'd gone home." Graham checked me with his shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. I met his eyes.

"Watch yourself, mate." My tone was deadly serious.

"It's not me that needs to watch himself. You're not welcome here until you get your shite together." Graham shoved my shoulder, and I rocked back on my heels, my fists clenching at my sides.

"I shouldn't find this hot, right?" Agnes asked.

"Willow," I pleaded over Graham's shoulder. When she looked away, my heart cracked, and I shoved past.

"Bloody hell, Ramsay." Graham shook his head before cocking his hand back and clocking me in the gut and the wind went out of me. I doubled over, clenching my stomach, as Graham gripped the back of my neck and propelled me from the pub. "You're a lousy drunk when you're miserable, mate."

"I need to talk to Willow," I gasped, trying to catch my breath as the cold air slapped my face.

"Then you'll do so sober. But not in my pub and not like this."

With that, Graham left me slumped against the outside wall of his pub, sadness and anger brewing in my gut as I gasped for air.

"Ramsay."

I turned to see Sophie standing in the doorway.

"Is she okay?" I asked, hating that I had screwed things up so badly.

"That'll depend on you. You really hurt her. What the hell were you thinking?" Sophie hissed.

"I'm an idiot."

"Clearly. The grump thing was cute and all until it wasn't. You really messed up."

"I thought she'd left."

"God, no. Willow's made of stronger stuff than that. I convinced her to stay, no thanks to you. She'll still work for the castle."

"She's not leaving?" Relief filled me. I straightened, rubbing my hand over the tender spot in my gut.

"She might. It's hard to say. The whole town has been talking about you picking fights with people left and right, breaking a table. You even insulted Fergus and his gingerbread house skills."

I winced.

"Not my finest moment."

"What the hell are you doing, Ramsay? Why are you being like this?"

"Because I'm an eejit?"

"Clearly. But you'll need to dig a bit deeper if you're going to convince Willow to talk to you. Acknowledging you're an eejit barely scratches the surface."

"What do I do?" I asked and Sophie crossed her arms over her chest, an annoyed look on her face.

"Oh, so now I'm supposed to solve all your problems?"

"Bloody hell, Sophie. Do you want me to make it up to Willow or not?"

"Fine, but you'd better dedicate your wedding vows to me or whatever comes out of this."

"I am not dedicating a wedding vow to a woman other than my future wife."

"I suppose that wouldn't make sense, would it?" Sophie scrunched up her nose as she thought about it, and I almost lost my cool.

"Sophie," I warned.

"Fine. But before I help you, I need to know one thing. Do you love her?" With all my fecking heart.

"Aye. With everything in me. She's it for me, lass."

Sophie sighed, as if relieved at my confession. "Well, in that case, I know she hasn't had a chance to visit her gran since she's been here. And I know she'd like that. Maybe you could go talk to her and do something sentimental to win her back."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, Ramsay. Figure it out. You want to win the woman back, think about what you did to hurt her. Her last boyfriend stole all her money and her business from her. You kicked her out of your business after she did all this work for you. She's not feeling really confident at the moment. Fix it."

With that, Sophie turned.

"Wait. Her gran's address?"

"I'll text you it. Now go sober up and figure your shit out. As much as we enjoy watching Graham flex his muscles, we can't have him doing it every night, or Agnes might finally have to admit she's attracted to the man."

"God forbid." I rolled my eyes and moved away from the wall, purpose filling me.

"Good luck, Ramsay. Remember, we all screw up sometimes. Make it right."

"I plan to."

With that, I walked into the night, thinking over Sophie's words. She was right, I'd hit Willow's insecurities dead on, and now I needed to fix it.

I'd stupidly told her to go home, but this was Willow's home. Loren Brae.

With me.