Page 90 of Kilt Trip

He wanted to give her connections. To make her happy.

His family loved her.

He loved her.

But this thing between them felt so fragile. Deep and raw, but it could go up in smoke if he pushed.

Addie hooked her ankle around his leg and sighed in her sleep, burrowing a little deeper into his soul. Logan’s whole heart longed to envelop her while he drowned in the fragrance of her hair, her body soft and molded around his.

He’d skipped over her words—I can’t bear the thought of being without you—wanting to believe they meant the same as I love you. I’ll stay with you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work.

The fear of pushing her away held him back from asking her Will you stay?

The question tossed in his mind like waves upon the rocks.

He wasn’t at all sure of her answer.

36

Logan sat at the conference-room table with Addie, papers spread out all around. She’d made them work the entire week, frantically building out spreadsheets and rapid-firing directions at him.

With a pencil shoved in her hair she looked focused. Determined. But they’d been at this for the better part of five days, and his interest had long since waned. His legs cramped from sitting in the same position for so long.

She chewed on her bottom lip in the way that made him think of other things they could be doing right now. He wanted to hold her, craved the assurance he felt when they were together, but he needed words, too. Plans.

These dreams and hopes for the future bottled up inside him, but it was impossible to share them when she was stressed and shutting down.

The past few days, she’d been more reserved, tense, taking calls at all hours of the day. He knew they had work to do, that this was the most important thing right now, but he wanted to whisk her back to the Highlands where everything felt simple and lovely.

Addie pushed a notebook out of her way. “Where’s the printout with the demographic—”

He handed her the packet she’d highlighted in at least six colors.

“Thanks,” she said without looking up. She flipped through the pages and ran a finger down a chart.

“What was that ruined castle...?”

“Tioram. It’s quite romantic, out on a tidal island.” Logan slid closer, brushing his arm against hers.

“I’m sure.” Addie’s lips lifted, but he wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been looking for it. She kept her eyes on the spreadsheet. “Alright. Here’s the tab for the Clan Tours. It has spaces for all the costs and prices with the total down here. You don’t want this number to turn red,” she said, pointing to a highlighted box at the bottom right.

Logan leaned in, resting his chin on her shoulder and drawing light circles around the freckles on her forearm. “Got it. No red numbers.”

They’d finally found a rhythm. Working with Addie made him feel confident. She was clever and thorough. Even though he was a bit petrified of breaking the monster of a spreadsheet in front of him, he could handle it. He could take on anything with her by his side.

“Right.” She shifted away. “So after you get that finalized, you add the tour to the reservation system.” Addie opened the application. They’d been over that workflow at least three times. He agreed he should know the end-to-end process, but the reservations sat squarely in Elyse’s domain.

“We don’t need to look again. I’ve got it.”

Maybe she was too focused. Stress wasn’t good for a person. Hours ago, she’d complained about the fluorescent light giving her a headache, and he’d turned it off. Now, the lamplight kissed Addie’s cheek, turned her golden hair shiny. He ran his hand down her back and up again, sliding under her hair and rubbing her neck. She didn’t relax into the pressure of his fingers like he’d hoped.

“Okay.” She typed in The Heart’s website. “Here’s the template for the new tours...”

They’d been working on the website for weeks. He could build a page in his sleep. There were far more interesting things he could think of to fill their time. Logan wrapped his finger around a curl brushing Addie’s shoulder.

The office had emptied out. It was just the two of them left. His body heated with thoughts of the last time, hiking her pencil skirt up her hips, his mouth following—

“Logan, are you even listening to me?”

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