Page 45 of Priceless
I hope you’re right and not just getting paid by the tourism board.
Never. Might I suggest ye finish yer bath and get a good night’s sleep, so ye’re well rested for the next Scottish adventure. Be sure to have a proper Scottish fry-up in the morning.
That’s what he said. Night.
Then the dots disappeared.
He just wished he knew if that heart emoji was meant for him…
Or for the other him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
By nine o'clock sharp, Jacob was outside Bluebell House, leaning against his Land Rover, waiting patiently. His face lit up when I stepped out on the sidewalk. It was quite an ego rush. The only time I feel the same was when Peaches comes home to visit. In fact, I felt that way every time she walked in the door after playing with friends or after school. I couldn’t help it.
I'd barely taken a step before he was opening the wrong side/passenger door for me, flashing that smile that made it impossible not to smile back. “Mornin’.”
“Morning.”
I wore my boots and carried my heavy coat, sporting plenty of layers so I could shed or bundle up as needed. The cute tops I’d bought for the trip would probably never see the light of day until I was home again.
Jacob was wearing at least three layers that I could see, including a dark green hoodie that matched his eyes.
He climbed in and turned over the engine. "How was breakfast, then?"
"Amazing. I ate everything I could possibly fit." I patted my still-full stomach. "Though I have to admit, I was enjoying the blood pudding right up until someone told me what it was."
He chuckled. "Aye, that's the way of it. Best not to ask too many questions about traditional Scottish fare, especially if it tastes good."
The morning was crisp and clear as we drove southwest toward Loch Ness. The countryside rolled by in shades of emerald and gold. Jacob kept up a steady stream of stories—about the roads going off in all directions, the villages we passed, the ground soaked with as much history as rain. I could listen to that man’s lilting, rumbling voice for days on end.
Paul had never been much of a talker, especially after Peaches was born. Conversation had become purely functional—who was picking up groceries, what needed to be fixed in the house, what was planned for the next week. We rarely spoke about things that interested us, usually because it wouldn’t appeal to the other one.
Jacob, on the other hand, seemed interested in anything I had to say. And we currently had something wonderful in common—an appreciation for his magical country.
We drove along the famous Loch Ness until we reached Urquhart Castle. It was hard to believe it hadn’t been built as a movie set. Hard to believe those stones had been placed 800 years ago. At the same time, it seemed entirely plausible to me that there was a long-necked monster swimming out there, just below the surface of that long, dark body of water, made darker still by an overcast sky.
I was shocked to find myself on the side of believers, but how could I not? After all, I’d already had a ghost whispering in my ear, and plenty of witnesses who’d heard him do it! Ghosts, monsters, witches who could raise Highland warriors from the dead and bring them back to life.
Why not?
"Right then," Jacob said as we climbed the ruins. “Time for the obligatory monster hunt."
The winding paths were already full of tour groups and families. The castle itself was so much larger once we got inside the walls, chuck full of staircases and chambers that still held their shapes. Jacob knew all about the place’s history, of sieges and captures, of all those hands ownership passed to, or was stolen from, that I didn’t need to bother reading the plaques. He explained the architecture and what the rooms were used for, like he grew up there.
At the highest point, we stood looking out over the loch, cameras and phones raised like offerings to the legendary creature below.
"See anything?" Jacob asked, squinting at the water.
"Aye,” I said, in a horrible imitation of his brogue. “Jacob MacKinney’s best man, second day on the job, doin’ his company proud."
We laughed, then went straight back to monster hunting.
After a few minutes, Jacob shook his head. "Ach, Nessie's probably havin’ a lie in, storin’ up for the weekend."
On our way back down, Jacob veered toward the massive stones beside an ancient catapult. "Now these," he said, rolling up his sleeves, "these are proper liftin’ stones."
"You wouldn’t dare.”
