I smirked. “Well, you did let me unload on you yesterday, so it’s only right I return the favor.”
“You don’t need to hear about my problems, London.”
“I want to.”
Murray blew out a breath between his lips, and I tried not to stare at them or think about how much I wanted to trim his beard for him.
Disappointed at his continued silence, I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess it’s none of my business.”
“It’s not …” Murray sighed again. “It’s hard for me to admit my failures, that’s all.”
I frowned. “How have you failed?” It seemed impossible. The guy was adored around here. He employed so many of the islanders and was a fair and kind boss, he clearly loved his daughter, and he was always the first to offer a helping hand. No one had an unkind word for Murray Shaw.
“Jill. My ex. I’m sure you’ve heard.”
I winced at his sardonic tone because the downside to small-town life was everyone knowing your business. “I heard some things.”
“Well, they’re true. Jill gets a monthly salary out of the business’s gross profit. Not net. Gross. And it’s becoming a financial liability. None of that …” Murray turned slightly toward me, worry gleaming in his beautiful eyes. “None of that compares to how she’s treating Kelly. Neglecting her and keeping company with men I don’t want around my daughter.”
At the harsh anger in his words, I had to stop myself from pressing a reassuring hand to his arm. I’d never seen him so distraught.
“What can … is there something to be done?”
“I’m trying to get sole custody of Kelly, but it isn’t easy. As for the company … Jill can drain that dry until I marry again, so that’s not an easy fix.” Murray’s gaze roamed over my face. “I shouldn’t be burdening you with this. Have you solved your own problem?”
“Not yet.” I shrugged but smiled with more confidence than I felt. “But I will.”
“I’m … if I can help?—”
“No, you have your own stuff.”
“Aye, even so, you know where to find me if you need anything.” Murray stepped back from the barrier. “For now, I need to get back to the office so …” He raised his coffee. “Have a good one, London.”
“You too.”
And as I watched him walk away, his long-legged strides eating up the cobbled Main Street, those broad shoulders slightly hunched, holding the books and a father’s tension … it suddenly hit me.
The answer to both our problems.
My lips parted on a gasp as the idea took root.
No.
We couldn’t.
It was crazy.
But was it?
Yes.
Or not …
Murray would never go for it.
Or would he?
If he did go for it, it would solve our problems. I could stay in Scotland and be Aunt London far away from Nick’s reach, and Murray would sever all ties with his horrible ex-wife.