Page 56 of Kilt Trip

The world shrank to their shared seat. The curve of his thumbnail holding out the glossy sticker. The heat of his leg against hers. The dimple peeking out from behind his stubble, his smile a mix of earnest and unsure.

Addie’s chest filled like a hot-air balloon.

There was something about standing in Logan’s glow. Being a part of his circle—huddled around him on a tour, or surrounded by his friends and family—wasn’t simply a rush that came from being with the in-crowd. It gave her the sense that she was exactly where she should be, like all the excitement, all the laughter, was happening right here, right now, and she got to be a part of it.

It made her want to believe in fairy tales, if only for a moment.

19

Logan sat next to Addie at the dining table of Castle Storn. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. The way she cupped her chin when she was interested in someone’s story. The way she looked freer, her shoulders loose and relaxed, her smile easy. So far from the polished consultant he knew in the office.

Nothing brought him more satisfaction than connecting people with their histories. Any time he witnessed someone finding a piece of their past, it was profound and hopeful. But watching Addie today had been more.

Maybe because she seemed so unsure of her connection and wary to explore it, where everything else he’d seen of her was bold and determined.

Or maybe it had to do with the sadness he sometimes caught lurking in her eyes.

He wouldn’t pretend he understood anything about the grief she carried, but she’d let him ease the pain for a moment there, and it felt like a bestowing of a trust he desperately wanted. He’d never felt so close to someone.

Oddly, her trust in him made him feel supported, too. Like his desire to seek out destinations that would give someone a deeper bond to his land wasn’t frivolous or something he could walk away from.

It mattered.

For the first time, he wondered if there was an outcome where changing his tours wouldn’t diminish their spirit but could turn them into something even more meaningful, more personal.

“We’ve got a wee surprise in store for ye.” Malcolm, the owner of the hotel and Neil’s favorite fishing competitor, interrupted Logan’s thoughts. “Allow me to introduce our entertainment for the evening.” He gestured to two lads holding their respective fiddle and accordion, as if they’d heard all the noise, grabbed their kilts, and come running.

“If ye haven’t been to a ceilidh before, you’re in for a treat. It’s a traditional Scottish reel, and we’ll be callin’ out the steps so you can join in the dance.”

Nervous laughter overtook the room, louder than the scraping of the chair legs.

A Riverside Jig started up, and Logan clapped above his head, herding everyone out. Malcom’s voice boomed without the aid of a microphone. “Everyone pick a partner, and we’ll start with a simple dance.”

Logan looped his fingers around Addie’s wrist. “Dance with me.”

She stepped into his space and looked up at him with a grin. “Not a chance.”

“Dance with me.”

Addie narrowed her eyes, but she never backed down from a challenge. He held out his arm to escort her into the hall, and she curled her hand around his forearm.

The group broke into two parallel lines, the excitement palpable in the air.

The ceilidh was another highlight of the tour. No one was particularly accomplished at this dance, always lagging behind the caller, but huge smiles lit their faces, nonetheless.

They held hands in their line and moved together and away again while Malcolm shouted, “One, two, three, jump. Back, two, three, jump. Right-hand side!”

Logan, Addie, Carlos, and Sofia placed their hands into the middle of the circle, pinwheeling about. As Addie spun, Logan caught sight of the open back of her black sleeveless shirt and his breath got lost on its way out, causing a gridlock and stressing his heart. The fabric draped in a thick X across her upper back, and the triangular cutout below revealed the curve of her spine. He wanted to tug the sashes tied together in a loopy bow at her waist more than he’d wanted a driving license.

“Left-hand side!”

Logan turned to whirl the other way, forcibly dragging his mind away from the burning desire to feel Addie’s soft skin.

“Do-si-do your partner.”

He crossed his arms out in front of him, stepping in a square around Addie, his skin tingling in every place they touched.

“Swing your partner, do-si-do,” she called over the fiddle and the stomping.

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