Page 45 of Kilt Trip

“After the fall of the Bonnie Prince and the Highland clans in 1746, many Scots dispersed across the globe. Who here has Scottish lineage?”

Addie and half the group raised their hands.

“We can trace our lineage back to a hamlet not far from here,” Emo Boy said.

Logan glowed brighter than ever. “Your ancestors may have walked this land, raised their livestock in a similar manner to Duncan and Peggy, and lived in a home like this one,” he said with animated hand gestures. “You come from hearty stock—hardworking, dedicated people who forged a living for themselves against the odds.”

Emo Boy looked like a graduate after a particularly rousing commencement address. Addie had not seen that coming.

Building a personal connection with a tough guest, 5 points.

“Every family has their own story to tell, and each clan has a deep and varied history. My family name is Sutherland, and this is my clan’s tartan.” He gestured to his kilt. “The pattern is unique and identifiable, a way to show where we belong.”

Addie’s initial assumption had been wrong. He wore the kilt, not as a gimmick for the tourists, but because of his pride in his heritage.

“You have a connection here, a place in the fabric of Scotland.” Logan looked directly at Addie, and she held her breath as her gaze was pulled to the mountain behind him.

She couldn’t help mentally comparing it to the one in her mom’s picture, even though she knew the chances of it being the same were essentially zero. It wasn’t quite as jagged, even though the surrounding valley was similar.

Disappointment hit her bloodstream, fizzing and wearing her down. It was easy to ignore the pull of the pictures when she was a million miles away, but standing here—under the same sky, next to a mountain that could be the same—ignited some gravity that tugged harder on her heart the closer she got.

As Logan herded everyone into a semblance of two rows for a group picture, he said something that had Cowboy Hat slapping his back in amusement.

Without thinking, Addie lifted the camera to capture the laughter in Logan’s eyes. At the click of the lens, he met her gaze, and the moment was charged like the flash had gone off and forged an electric current between them. There was only her and Logan, the chill of the wind and the heat in her chest, and suddenly her heart felt a little less empty.

Cowboy Hat recaptured Logan’s attention while the group rearranged for a silly photo.

To keep her hands busy, she fiddled with the lens like she had even the faintest idea what she was doing. After a few more pictures, Addie had herself under control.

She might have gotten swept away for a minute, but she needed to remember what she was doing here.

Logan ushered them back onto the path. He brushed past her, as if there wasn’t an entire valley’s worth of space to get by, and her pulse picked up.

She fell into step with Birdie and Gertie.

Logan’s kilt swished above his bulging calf muscles, and Addie tore her eyes away. Attempting to regain some equal footing, she said, “Gosh, I could go for a spa at the end of this. A hot tub or a massage...”

He spun around at her words, and she returned his glare with a completely innocent smile.

“Oh, that would be delightful,” Birdie said, touching her purple perm. “What I wouldn’t pay for one of those heated-stone treatments.”

“Same. It’s too bad the hotel doesn’t have one.” Addie held Logan’s gaze and lifted her hand to him as if to say See? I told you so.

He stomped up to Cowboy Hat.

“Look at that man. I could listen to his accent all day,” Birdie sighed.

“Does he read poetry, do you think?” Gertie asked, sounding hopeful.

“I seem to remember one about painted-pink snowcaps...”

Logan whipped his head around, and Addie rolled her lips between her teeth. His onward march slowed considerably.

“Ahh...tell us what’s it like being with a man so...virile.” Birdie waggled her eyebrows. Addie wasn’t sure if she should laugh or crawl in a hole and die. Logan—walking backward—spread his arms as if to say Yes, do tell.

She hoped he tripped.

Birdie and Gertie wore matching expectant expressions, and Addie deeply regretted including those two in her battle plans.

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