Page 107 of Kilt Trip

Neil’s eyes turned misty, and Logan’s heart swelled in his chest at the unexpected emotion he saw there—a mix of pride and pain. The conflicting feelings of wanting to keep someone forever but knowing you can’t keep them fenced in. He could relate.

Or he was projecting.

“Besides, what’s a father’s job but to nudge their son every once in a while?” With the way Neil tipped his head, the same as when Logan had scuffed a knee as a child, he got the feeling they were talking about two things at once. “You know as well as anyone how hard it can be to leave the safety of a routine that has become more like a ritual with time. I’m proud of you for taking a chance and finding your own way.”

Logan nodded. “I will throw you a very large retirement party, but I’m ready to do this on my own.”

A cheeky smile settled over his dad’s face. “You know this isn’t a one-person job?”

“Yes. Not all on my own. I’d like Elyse to head up operations.”

“I can’t think of a better replacement.”

Neil stood, opening his arms, and Logan stepped into the embrace that had sustained him through every triumph and setback in his life. He didn’t need to work with his dad and his brothers to be happy, as much as he’d loved those years together. He only needed their support, and he knew now that he had it.

Back at his desk, Logan wrote a newsletter, an announcement for the changes at The Heart. As much as the excitement of making this official buzzed through him, he couldn’t shake the thought that Addie had been supporting him all along. That just like Jack and his dad, he’d failed to understand her intentions.

46

The flyer in the elevator had lured Addie to the hotel lobby with promises of fresh afternoon cookies, but she would have come for herring sandwiches. While Addie admired the work-life balance that saw Amsterdam City Tours empty by five thirty every day, it meant she spent long stretches of the evenings in her hotel room. Alone.

The quiet—usually the most important feature of an accommodation—was wearing her down, like that old, oppressive silence returned to pay an unwelcome visit.

With the cookies gone, the upscale lounge cleared out quickly, and Addie was left with the click, click, click of the receptionist’s keyboard and the smell of burnt chocolate. Addie sat in a stiff leather chair, her computer in her lap, sipping black tea in front of a sleek gas fireplace.

Usually, she would jump for joy over an empty lobby, but she was used to Jack shuffling around, the kettle whistling and video games dinging, or Logan and Elyse bickering, sitting around the conference-room table late at night.

After all the years spent wandering the globe, loving the adventure but locking away the part of herself that died a little from every night spent alone in a nondescript hotel room, she couldn’t lie anymore.

This wasn’t what she wanted.

Logan once said, in his deep, lilting brogue, It’s not about how many places you’ve been but how they make you feel.

She’d been offended at the time, but now she wished she could tell him she understood. Getting to know a place—learning its secrets and quirks, its history, the shiny facades, and the gloomy and twisting streets—was entirely different than skimming the surface of the high points only to move on before learning anything of substance. Before connecting.

Her heart pinched, missing that connection.

Marc and Devika understood her in a way most people didn’t, down to their shared hobbies of collecting passport stamps and tiny shampoo bottles with names like Roam and Float. Their impeccable work ethic pushed her to be better at her job. They were the community she depended on to keep her sane in the shifting world of time-zone roulette.

While she could reach one of them at any hour of the day or night, they weren’t family.

They weren’t home.

Addie’s computer dinged with a new message alert. She rubbed her eyes and pulled up her email.

From: Heart of the Highlands Tours

Subject: Come back to Scotland

Addie’s heartbeat ricocheted down her arms, into her fingertips, and back.

Her hands shook as she clicked on the message and then the embedded video.

The one she’d taken.

Logan stood in front of the picturesque castle, unapologetically earnest. Steadfast. Hopeful.

It brought Addie right back to that moment—the wind tangling in her hair, the heavy scent of damp air, the leaden hue of the sky, and the feeling that the ridge of the vista cradled her soul because Logan stood next to her.

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