Page 89 of Kilt Trip

As much as Logan wanted to be in on the fun of teasing Addie, he couldn’t see why Jack didn’t shut this down, why he and Addie were still allowed to discuss the future of the business, but Logan was locked out.

Addie slipped her jacket onto the coat rack. “In all seriousness, we’re thinking eight tours with a mix of hot spots and your local connections. I’m about to check demographics, but you know the market. Do you think the big clans have enough pull to make this viable?”

Logan’s confidence had stretched and swelled all weekend but at Addie’s question, it suddenly deflated. Why was she asking for his input? Maybe Jack had run more of the business, but Logan ran the tours—he met the people who stepped on the coaches, knew their histories. A high percentage of them claimed Scottish heritage.

“That’s brilliant. You could add a more general tour for people who don’t know their heritage, exactly.”

Now Jack wanted to dream up new tours? No. That ship had sailed months ago. He didn’t get to intrude when Logan finally had his legs under him again or claim any sort of credit for their success. He couldn’t come in here and pick up the part he always played: the leader, the hero, the eldest and wisest.

This didn’t belong to Jack anymore.

“That’s a great idea. I have to get my computer.” She headed down the hall, but Logan’s attention remained on Jack.

“I’ll be there in a minute.” He had a brother to speak to first.

Logan gestured for Jack to lead the way into the kitchen and followed him in, curving his fingers around the wrought iron back of a chair. “I can’t for the life of me understand why you two are in cahoots.”

“I answered a direct question. Did you want me to ignore her?” Jack asked, filling up a glass of water from the sink.

“You do with me. You won’t discuss The Heart, won’t consider steering us back to an even keel before you bolt—and for what?—but suddenly Addie’s here asking your opinion on something you shouldn’t know anything about. You don’t get a say anymore. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Jack raised his hands in a show of retreat. “I supported her at the beginning because I needed to know you’d be alright and because it looked as if you might stonewall her. Although, that wasn’t exactly what happened, was it?” Jack arched an eyebrow and sat at the small table.

“Excuse me, are you chastising me about inappropriate relationships?”

Jack’s eyes hardened. “Foolish ones. Believe me, watching you fall all over yourself has been the most entertainment I’ve had in a long while. But a weekend away?” Jack took off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt. He squinted up at Logan. “She doesn’t live here, mate.”

Logan traced his teeth with his tongue, the rest of his body going still at the reminder of the future, pushing in and zapping the bubble he’d been floating in. “I’m aware of that fact, thank you. You say you don’t want to be involved, but you were giving her counsel as soon as she arrived, and you’re meddling now. You can’t have it both ways.”

“I don’t want to be part of the business, so I have to sever all ties with you? Is that it?”

Logan was out of line, he knew it, but he couldn’t let it go. “Back off, Jack.”

“When she finishes this project and walks out that door—” Jack pointed to the front room and the image of Addie leaving, dragging Frank behind her, imprinted in Logan’s brain “—I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Heat gathered in the pit of Logan’s stomach. “What a doting older brother. Making sure I’m alright when people leave me.”

Jack ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “I didn’t leave you, Logan.”

“Sure felt like it.” Logan crossed his arms, as if that would fend off the memories of their last day at The Heart. Of Jack, fingers steepled under his chin, sitting on his desk, and Reid leaned back against his, legs crossed one over the other, both of them examining the floor. The look they shared, the silent communication between brothers that Logan could no longer decipher. The dulled words they used—so sorry and guilt-ridden and the best thing for us—that did nothing to lessen the impact of you’re on your own. That cloying sense of helplessness to redirect his own future, to understand how something so monumental, so foundational, could be decided without him.

“I know you don’t understand my reasons—”

“What reasons?”

Jack pushed away from the table and stood. “I’m not getting in a row about two things at once. I was only trying to help with Addie.” With a heavy sigh, he patted Logan on the shoulder on his way out of the kitchen. “Have a care, little brother.”

The door to Jack’s room clicked closed before Logan dared to breathe. He released the chair, rubbing at the round indentations across his palms.

Addie poked her head into the kitchen, hand curving around the doorframe, with a smile to rival a summer day. “I think this could work.”

Logan pushed aside the swirling sea of emotions and gave Addie and her clever ideas all his attention and enthusiasm.

But later that night, when she curled into Logan with her hand fisted in his shirt, her breathing deep and even in the dark, he replayed his conversation with Jack.

Logan had done a remarkable job staying away from the grand plan concerning Addie, having seen that deep-seated instinct to run, to retreat into herself. But their bond had changed somewhere between here and the hills of Kintail.

His heart was fully invested. He might have qualms about how exactly they would sort out the future, but his feelings for Addie hadn’t wavered since the first time he’d kissed her.

---