Page 70 of Kilt Trip

He nudged Addie with his foot, but instead of green eyes coming up to meet his, Elyse’s eyebrows rose, and a cheeky smile filled her face. Dammit.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and pulled his foot back. He couldn’t even risk catching Addie’s eye now without confirming Elyse’s suspicions.

He’d told himself it would be like this. Addie had boundaries for the office he wouldn’t cross. But it didn’t dull the ache, the longing for her to be right there with him.

“The local spots are effective for day trips, but more Edinburgh tours could be a great way to fill guides’ time between bigger trips,” she said.

As if to answer the subtle criticism that they didn’t have enough work for everyone, Big Mac’s drone flew over their heads, propellers whirring. His boisterous narration of the flora inside The Heart of the Highlands—as if it was a remote jungle being explored by BBC Earth—entertained the rest of the office, but the hard press of Addie’s lips as she tracked its flight felt like a judgment. A needling, sweat-inducing judgment.

“What about a museum tour?” she asked.

Unease pricked Logan’s skin at the direction of her suggestions. At the sound of Harris’s booming laugh, Logan looked up. Harris would be wasted leading hushed groups through marbled halls. Big Mac would most likely destroy some priceless relic. “Not what I had in mind. No.”

She wound her hair into a bun, shoved a pencil to hold it in place, and blew a stray curl out of her face. Logan’s heart withered as he watched Weekend Addie transform into Office Addie right before his eyes. She wasn’t here as a confidante or collaborator, looking for middle ground.

She was a competitor, cool and distant.

Whatever had happened on that phone call had pulled Addie out of his reach, and a cold twinge of panic filled the cracks between his ribs.

While Elyse scribbled ideas, or perhaps hairy-coo logos, in a notebook, Addie said, “We could add a Royal Mile tour—”

“What?” His heart pounded in his chest. This wasn’t a compromise. It was an ambush.

She held up a hand to stop his objection. “You don’t have to spend the whole day at The Scotch Whisky Experience, but St. Giles’? The Mercat Cross? There are hidden gems galore.”

When he shook his head, one part confusion, one part disbelief, Addie glanced up at the ceiling, frustration and annoyance barely concealed on her face.

Here was the fine print of their compromise ready to tangle him up and knock him down.

Elyse pressed holes in the dirt of Addie’s potted fern. “Melrose Abbey could be interesting.”

A whiff of relief settled near Logan’s sternum at the intervention, if only to give himself a moment to catch his breath. “Aye, there’s a good one,” Logan said, impressed. Famous, but historically significant. If Addie would think more along those lines, they might get somewhere.

“Have I ever led you astray?” Elyse asked in a lighthearted tone, but the hint of seriousness in her eyes caught him off guard. He was probably imagining it. Everything around here felt heavy today.

“Only the time you convinced me to make homemade fireworks for Guy Fawkes Night.”

Elyse’s smirk was interrupted by the phone ringing. “It’ll probably be Alasdair again. He’s thrilled to death about the new booking reports. I told you vendors would like electronic copies.” She shot Logan a smug look.

Even these simple changes made him seasick.

“Toodle-oo,” Addie called as Elyse headed to her desk.

“No one says tha—” Elyse broke into a full-throated laugh when she caught on to Addie’s teasing. “Well done, then.”

They were reframing their entire future, and no one was taking this seriously or giving the tours the attention they deserved.

The drone whizzed close enough to trim Logan’s hair and he shot Big Mac a look that went ignored. Christ. He couldn’t focus in the office. He needed big skies, fresh air, and inspiration.

“What about The Kelpies?” Addie asked.

Logan grimaced, his pulse picking back up at the decidedly wrong direction she was pushing this conversation. Pushing him. “They’re enormous horsehead sculptures.”

“Have you even been there?”

“It opened in 2014. Not a lot of history.”

“Stirling Castle, then. Built in 1014,” she said facetiously.

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