Page 50 of Kilt Trip

And maybe there wasn’t, but he wanted it all the same. He was undeniably drawn to the parts of her she kept hidden.

Craig, the owner of the hotel, pounded on the opposite end of the worn wooden table, stealing her attention. “Thank ye for joinin’ us tonight. We’re delighted to welcome you to Carbisdale Castle. Now for a bit of history. This part of the building was erected in 1907 for the Duchess of Sutherland...” Craig launched into a full history of the castle and accompanying lands, but Logan tuned it out—he’d heard it too many times to count.

Addie watched Craig, her elbow on the table and hand cupping her chin, like she couldn’t get enough of this tale. Logan had a flash of her joining these trips, rolling her eyes at the same old stories and whispering to him about the guests the way his parents had done.

All in all, dangerous thoughts to be having about a colleague he had more than a professional interest in. Someone who would undoubtedly be getting on a plane in a matter of weeks.

Logan lifted his glass to find it already empty.

“Our resident ghost Betty—the White Lady—appears from time to time, dressed all in white, in various places around the castle. But her favorite is room 206. Which of you lucky guests is sleeping in the Spook Room?”

Addie’s spine stiffened. She whipped her head to Logan, the look of panic quickly replaced with a stiff smile at the good-natured ribbing from the other guests.

“I’m in 201 if you need protecting,” Ravi offered.

The wastrel.

She flashed him such a look of gratitude Logan’s insides churned. If anyone was going to protect her from a made-up ghost, it was going to be him.

Craig waved away the ruckus. “Och, lass. She won’t bother ye. She only wants for a bit of company now and again.” Addie’s wide eyes darted to Craig before a light flush stained her cheeks. She twirled her fork around her plate.

In a hushed voice, she said to Logan, “You know, guests should pick their own level of accommodation. Some people want luxury, some people want hostels. Debatable if anyone wants a Spook Room.”

“But who doesn’t want a castle?” Logan asked.

She pursed her lips. “There should be a cash bar, at least.” She was clearly poking at him for the sake of it.

“We could stop off at Tesco to pick up alcohol on the way. Give them the full range of choice.”

“You’re impossible,” she said, stuffing a forkful of neeps in her mouth, presumably to avoid admitting defeat.

As the meal wound down, the group began to disperse to bed. Sofia and Carlos had disappeared an hour before. Addie remained at the table, running her finger around the rim of her glass and looking out into the room as if it was a museum. Craig pulled up the empty chair on Logan’s other side. “I saved the Glenfarclas for you after everyone retires.”

Keith materialized at the mention of whisky. Apparently taking their appearance as a signal for the end of the night, Addie stood and gave them a smile. “Nice to meet you, Craig. Night,” she said to Keith.

Her eyes lingered on Logan’s, and his muscles tensed under her perusal. On every trip, he and Craig reminisced after dinner about summers spent down on the riverbank. But tonight, he wanted to skip out on his old friend and follow Addie’s retreating form up the stairs.

Logan rubbed the back of his neck. That’s not going to end well, mate. He clapped Craig on the back instead. “Good to see you, man.”

They shared a dram in the empty and echoing dining hall, but Logan’s thoughts returned to Addie. When most people took in the hills, they stared with awe or reflection, but earlier her face had filled with something like the ache of longing.

Perhaps his tour was affecting her a bit, if only she’d let herself feel it.

She’d been lighthearted the rest of the day. Not that he minded the teasing—never that—but she kept herself detached. He had to convince her why they should keep these trips intact, not just show her a good time. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. The rest of the itinerary was comparable to today’s. If the tour didn’t move her, this wouldn’t work.

He rolled his knuckles back and forth on the wooden table.

Addie needed something to connect with. Something personal. But he hardly knew anything about her, besides how to push her buttons. He knew about her mum and her family name, but she practically radiated off-limits when it came to her personal life.

Maybe he needed to show her what these places meant to him. The feeling was completely unhinged, but he wanted her to know his stories, too.

That was it. His lips curved into a smile, and he jumped from his chair, tossing “I’ll be right back” over his shoulder.

The air in the stairwell held traces of stale smoke from the hearth. He took the steps two at a time, hoping to catch Addie before she went to sleep.

The bathroom door at the top of the stairs swung open.

Logan’s breath caught a split second before she crashed into him—steam and lavender.

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