Page 39 of Leon

But like a typical man, he had decided all on his own that it no longer suited him. And had gone off alone to sulk. Not to mention the fact that he had had lunch with a former lover. She had yet to decide if that was all they did together. And if shefound out otherwise... She huffed out a breath and determined not to allow anything to spoil her euphoric mood, she wandered into her closet to select what she would be taking with her.

She had never been to Scotland and was looking forward to going.

*****

He read her text the next morning. And he was about to call her but stopped himself. He was still upset and did not want to give her the impression that it was all good between them. When it wasn't. Not by a long shot.

He had some things to see to before the trip. Meetings to reschedule. Trips to push back. He could have taken her to Japan where the deal for the high-end cars would have been ideally negotiated in person.

But for some reason, he cannot explain, he wanted the magic of the high rolling hills, the magic of the open spaces. He wanted to just recapture the romance, not that there was any lack of it. But he wanted something softer, gentler. He wanted them away fromthis place with all the stress. He wanted to stop being so damn angry all the time.

He was supposed to be happy, instead he was miserable and couldn't find his balance. Could not settle. The story his father had told him had not been repeated, not even to his sister and it was festering like an open sore. He wanted to tell her and was going to find a way to do so over the week they were together.

He also did not want to spoil their time together. His gut clenched at the foreboding feeling that washed over him.

No. Shaking his head, he picked up the folder and got to work.

*****

She spent the early morning wrapped in anticipation, her suitcase open on the bed and an array of hopeful outfits scattered across the covers. Every so often, she paused to consider which version of herself she wanted to present on this trip. Someone carefree and spontaneous, or measured and impenetrable? She settled on a bit of both, packing sturdy boots alongside silk dresses, as if she could straddle the line between adventure and elegance.

When her phone chimed with Leon's reply, just a brief, polite acknowledgment, she stared at the screen, lips pressed into a thin smile. So, this is how it would be, at least for now. She would not chase after crumbs of affection, not when the promise of open skies and ancient castles waited just beyond the horizon.

By the time the sun had peeped over the horizon, she found herself at the window, watching clouds scudding over the city's rooftops, her thoughts drifting to green fields and stone cottages. If Scotland was to be an escape, she would seize it with both hands. Let the past remain unspoken for a little longer. She would step onto that plane with hope stitched into every seam of her coat, determined to let the wild beauty of the Highlands untangle the knots inside her, even if only for a fleeting while.

She carried the same positive energy when she sailed into the kitchen to put the coffee on. Stunned, she stopped just inside the doorway to see that her father had beat her to it. He not only was measuring the beans into the filter, but he had a pot of oatmeal bubbling on the stove.

"I..." She gestured with one hand, the scent of coffee and cinnamon oatmeal stirring her taste buds. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" he asked briskly, moving from counter to stove.

During a long restless night, charged with bitterness and resentment, he had laid out his ground plans. And this was part of it. "What does it look like?" He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit. "I decided to start pulling my weight around here. You were right. I had taken you for granted. I want things to change between us."

She wandered in and sat down, not quite sure what to make of it all. He looked incongruous with her apron tucked into the waistband of his khaki pants and he had a pleasant expression on his face.

"Dad, I didn't mean for you to be cooking meals."

"Why not?" he clucked. Coming over, he poured her a cup of coffee. "I think I still remember the way your mother used to cook the oatmeal." Turning away, he got out bowls.

Picking up the coffee, Kadian felt happiness spearing through her body. Surely this meant that he was open to her news. She would wait until they were back, of course, before impartingit. Settling back, she prepared to enjoy the breakfast he had prepared.

Chapter 11

"He made us breakfast." A quick laugh escaped her as she reached for her glass of iced tea. "Two mornings straight. I was in complete and utter shock. The first morning was oatmeal and it was damn good. The second morning, this morning as a matter of fact, was Spanish omelet. It was slightly burnt, but nonetheless..." Her eyes glowed. "The very instant I told him about taking the week away and that I met someone, it was as if something changed."

She eyed her silent friend curiously. "Honey, you haven't said a word since we got here."

"Still trying to process," Grace said lightly as she stirred her fruit punch. Picking out the cherry, she popped it into her mouth and chewed slowly. "You don't find it strange?"

"What?"

"The complete three-sixty. He spent his entire life treating you like a commodity and suddenly he's being supportive. What gives?"

Tamping down the spurt of anger and fear, Kadian lifted her chin. "You're not going to spoil it for me."

"I'm merely trying to be the voice of reason here and your friend. I would sincerely like to jump up and down and cheer your victory, but I can't. It sounds as if your old man is playing you. And as your friend I warn you to be careful. When are you going to tell him the whole truth?"

Her euphoria plummeting, Kadian took a sip of her water.

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