Page 47 of Bad Reputation

He had to laugh.

“Don’t mock me, I’m perfectly serious. My complaint, where should it go?”

“I’ll pass it along. And I’ll buy you dinner to make it up to you.” He wasn’t sure why he offered—but that was a bigger lie than the hill-mountain distinction. The truth was that Cole wanted to eat with Maggie. He wanted to tug on the end of her braid while she yelled at him about the hiking board. He wanted to cover her smart mouth with his.

Luckily, she saved them both when she said “Dinner is not enough, James.” She shook a finger at him. “Not nearly enough.”

“Do me a favor and turn around.”

“Why would I—oh my God.”

The slope fell away from their feet, all green fields and scrubby heather, before the city materialized. From this distance, Edinburgh was a neat patchwork of gray city blocks and red brick. And beyond that was the blue smear where the river poured into the sea.

The climb had been killer, sure. But that was some view.

“That’s the Firth of Forth, right?” she whispered.

“Sure.”

“Odd name, but it’s really pretty.”

“It is.”

But he wasn’t looking at the scenery. He was watching Maggie, the hanks of her hair that had escaped from her braid whipping around her face in the wind, her cheeks flushed pink, and her eyes bright green.

She’d been legitimately annoyed with him, or with the situation, a minute ago, but now, that had blown away, like a sprig of heather in the window. All that was left on her face was awe—she was actually awestruck.

With a cackle, she spread her hands wide. “Okay. Okay. That’s really ... wow. This has almost been worth it.”

“It has been.”

Maggie caught his attention on her. Suddenly it wasn’t too cold. The wind wasn’t too hard. His thighs weren’t burning too badly.

Cole turned squarely toward her, took a step forward.

But she wasn’t feeling the same tug, clearly, because Maggie only shoved her water bottle at him before taking off again up the trail.

He stowed their stuff, gave himself a brief lecture about not getting swept away because of some pretty vista, and followed her.

“I withdraw my complaint,” she said when he’d caught up. “I mean, I still think this is a mountain and I was misled, but the view is nice even if no one told me the trail would be vertical.”

“Maggie, there are sheep hanging out all around us. Sheep don’t do vertical.”

“Sheep are very nimble. They’re basically puffy goats.”

“I bet there wouldn’t have been sheep at the castle.”

“Probably not. But even still, this is no Glasgow Botanic Gardens.”

“Are they supposed to be amazing?” For all that he’d filmed around the world, he hadn’t seen much outside his trailer. The odd hike here and there was all the sightseeing he managed.

“I didn’t make it to Kew Gardens when we were in London. I was too busy. But these are that same Victorian glasshouse style, and I’m obsessed.”

When they passed the remains of an old fort, they snapped a few pictures. Then they were into another climbing section, and they were both too breathless to talk. Cole and Maggie stopped for water a second time when they reached a big pile of stones and a historical interpretive plaque.

“This is on the map,” Cole said, checking his phone. “We’ve done almost all of the climbing now.” Which was good because they’d been walking for an hour and a half. It was good that he’d told Phil they were going to be four hours.

Maggie pointed to the hilltop at the end of the ridge. “Um, that looks higher.”

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