Page 8 of Highland Hearts Holiday Bookshop

“Sir, there’s no spot for a tip?”

“Aye, nae bother, hen.”

I blinked up at him, my mind taking a moment to digest his words through his thick accent. Had he called me hen because I was round? Or was it because my hair fell somewhere between brown and copper? Maybe it was both. Maybe I looked like a fluffed out broody hen in my rumpled sweatsuit and likely untidy hair.

“I feel bad,” I explained, and the man gave me a quick smile.

“Americans do love to tip. It’s appreciated, but not necessary.”

“Okay.” Right, I’d read about this, it just went against my very nature not to tip. Sighing, I resigned myself to accept the situation since I hadn’t had time tobreak the hundred-pound note I had tucked in my wallet for emergencies. I hadn’t wanted to travel with too much cash on hand, and I’d been told ATMs were readily available in Scotland. Though, looking around this small village, I wasn’t certain I would find one easily. I made a mental note to investigate buying a car or a bicycle, some sort of transportation, and grabbed my suitcases. Following the taxi driver’s directions, I stepped into the road with my luggage.

A horn sounded.

I screamed, tripping and falling in a puddle on the sidewalk. The car continued past, and I stayed on all fours for a moment, catching my breath. My shattered reflection, broken by drops of rain, peered back at me in the puddle. Not an ideal start. And I realized that not only was I dangerously close to tears, but I was also making a fool of myself. Sniffing, I stood and wiped the dirt from my pants the best that I could, and immediately saw my mistake as another car whizzed past.

Like a fool, I’d looked the wrong way crossing the street and had almost gotten myself killed two seconds into my adventure. Must be rush hour here.My Big Lifehad very much almost become My Short Life due to stupidity. Well, that and jet lag. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, and wiping the rain from my face, I crossed the road with care toward the narrow lane that the driver had indicated. Too small for a car to pass through, and lined with cobblestones, the street seemed to be from another world entirely. Pushing my emotions down, I tried to focus on the good—as though I was myvery own main character in a fantasy novel. Maybe around the corner I’d find a castle and?—

I screamed again as I rounded the corner and slammed face first into a brick wall.

Well, not exactly.

More like a very muscular chest that might as well have been a brick wall. Tripping as I scrambled back, mumbling apologies, strong hands gripped my arms and caught me before I fell to the ground once more.

“Careful there, lass.”

Oh. My. God.

I swear my insides melted into one puddle of gooey liquid lust as I blinked up at this gorgeous man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. Helllllo,Outlander. Hell yes, I’d binged that series with Jessica before I left, preparing myself for any and all magical encounters that I might have in Scotland. And this man…this man who might as well have walked off a movie set had just called me “lass” and was looking at me with…well, it wasn’t desire, that was for sure. More like concern that he’d run into a serial killer on his way to…wherever hot men like him went in this small town. Which, of course, I’d need to figure out where that spot was once I’d recovered my ability for speech. Just for observational purposes, of course.

“Lass? Are you bleeding?” Oh my God, he was leaning closer, was he going to kiss me? My heart rate picked up and my lips parted. I let out a breathy little laugh like I was some damsel in distress needing rescuing, which, by the way, I was not. I was meant tobe the warrior, not the damsel, according to my novels. I blinked when he brushed at my cheek.

“Bleeding?” I squeaked out and then looked down at my hands. I’d scraped the palm of one of them when I’d fallen in the puddle mere seconds ago in my other already forgotten embarrassment. Had he seen that? “Oh, I scraped my palm. Oh no, I’m sorry. Did I get blood on you?” I leaned closer to peer at his jacket, and he took a step back.

Because of course he did.

The man had no idea who I was, and here I was putting my nose to his chest while dripping blood.

“Nae bother. It’s waterproof.” The man shrugged off my concern and I wanted to linger here, in this icy rain, which was beginning to penetrate my very core, and find out more about this handsome stranger on the street. Because, I mean, that’s how it was supposed to work, right? I’d run into him, we’d make a fun joke, and then before you know it, we’d be skipping across the fields and reading books together with a pot of tea between us. Caught up in the fantasy, I beamed up at him, fluttering my eyelashes a bit, the blood and dirt on my face already forgotten.

The man moved and I did too, thinking, again, that maybe he was coming in for a kiss. When my lips met his shoulder as he tried to angle around me to get past me on the sidewalk, I realized my grave error.

Seriously, how jet lagged was I? This had to be the most awkward thing I’d ever done. I was blaming Jessica for this one. She was the one who’d gotten me all woundup about finding my perfect man in Scotland, and no matter how many times I told her that I couldn’t be trusted to pick a good match for myself, let alone believed in true love, she’d somehow managed to get in my head.

To the point where I was imagining romantic kisses in the rain with random Scottish strangers.

Instead, I’d basically assaulted the poor man as he tried to get past me. He looked down at where my lips had met his shoulder, his eyes rounded in shock, and then we both did that awkward little dance when you were trying to get around someone on the path, but you both moved in the same direction at the same time.

Finally, the man gripped my shoulders.

“Stay.” It was an order.I’d sit up and beg if this man ordered me to. I swallowed, my throat thick with nerves.

He walked around me, freeing the path. When I looked over my shoulder, he was glancing back at me.

“Are you lost then?” He was still walking away from me, and I couldn’t blame him, not after that embarrassing stunt I’d just pulled.

“Nope. All good. Thanks.” I jabbed a thumb over my shoulder. “Just off to the bookstore.”

At that, he stopped walking.

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