Page 25 of Joanna's Highlander (Highland Protector 2)

After six. Holy shit. She said after six?“My group. The ladies. The Knitting Chicks. Do you know where they are?” Lucia would kill her or even worse—not say a word, just give her “the look,” a look where she looked like somebody had just stolen her puppy. Joanna took a long sip of the scalding hot coffee, squinting against the burn. How could she have been so irresponsible? She’d completely deserted the tour group for an entire day and left them to find their own way back to their supper and the bed-and-breakfast. They’d probably demand a full refund. “Do you know if anyone took them back to the bed-and-breakfast?”

Esme bubbled with laughter, her blond brows arching high and the blue of her eyes growing darker and sparkling with mischief. “You mean that bunch of drunk old ladies?”

“Drunk?”

“Oh yeah.” Esme nodded. She covertly glanced around the room and leaned closer to Joanna. “Don’t tell Grant I said this, but those women got totally shit-faced with Mama and Miss Lydia in the dyeing barn. That’s why Mama insisted on putting them up for the night in the VIP lodge next to the keep. No way could they make it back to the bed-and-breakfast. As Da would say, ‘They were so deep in their cups they couldna find their arse with both hands if they tried.’ ”

“And since when does a proper young lady say ‘shit-faced’ or ‘arse’?” Grant appeared from behind a stone partition separating the kitchen from a casual dining area.

Esme rolled her eyes. “You said it after you helped Mama herd them into the VIP lodge.”

“I’m no’ a proper young lady.”

“No…you’re a proper pain in the—”

“Esme!” Grant gave her a warning look as he lifted the lid to the pot on the back of the stove, stirred the contents with a ladle, then returned both lid and ladle to their former positions. “I appreciate all that ye’ve done, but I’ll tan yer arse if ye canna behave like the sixteen-year-old daughter of a high chieftain should. Will ye be eatin’ dinner with us, sister?”

Joanna found herself hoping the young girl would stay. It wouldn’t hurt to have a “safety cushion” from Grant for a while, and what better chaperone than a teenage girl?What the hell am I going to tell Lucia about the group? How will we cover the cost of the VIP lodge?

Esme winked at Joanna, then scooped a set of keys out of a long wooden bowl in the center of the countertop. “Nah. I’ve got a couple of tests tomorrow. I need to study. Sadie said if I keep my grades up, she’ll take me on her next trip to New York.”

“It was nice meeting you, Esme.” Joanna wished the girl would stay, but she couldn’t fault the kid’s priorities. A trip to New York was a pretty cool reward for good grades.

Esme waved at Joanna as she tiptoed to peck a quick kiss to Grant’s cheek. “If I screwed up the cornbread, don’t tell Miss Lydia. You know she’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

“Agreed.” Grant smiled and gave an affectionate swat to Esme’s behind. “And keep to the speed limit. I’ll no’ be talkin’ to the sheriff anymore on yer behalf and I dinna want to have t’snap that leering deputy’s neck.” Grant chuckled and shook his head as Esme stuck out her tongue at him, then closed the door behind her. “That wee lass is a force t’be reckoned with.”

Joanna nodded, vaguely acting like she was paying attention to what Grant was saying while she searched the room for her phone.Where the hell is it? Did I leave it on the porch? I’ve got to call Lucia.Picking up the wadded throw from the couch, she held it by the corners and shook it out. “Have you seen my phone? I’ve got to let Lucia know about the group.” She folded the coverlet with sharp, jerking movements.Dammit. There goes the emergency fund.“And you don’t happen to know how much the VIP lodge is, do you? We’ve never rented that for any of our groups before. I don’t think it’s covered under our contract.”

Grant frowned, looking at her as though she’d just spoken in a language he didn’t understand. He pawed through the clutter of small articles in the wooden bowl on the counter. “I put yer phone here, but ye dinna have to worry about anything. It’s all been taken care of.”

“Abandoning my group, allowing them to get drunk, and then having them quarantined in the most expensive lodging at the park is not my idea of everything being taken care of.” Joanna massaged her throbbing temples. Wild old ladies, alcohol, and throwing away money were definitely a recipe for one hell of a migraine. She needed to eat. Maybe that would appease the building headache and keep it down to a dull roar. “I’ve got to call Lucia so we can figure out how to handle this.” Lucia was going to shit.

Grant rounded the kitchen island, placed her phone beside her on the counter, then took her hands into his. He leaned down until his nose nearly touched hers. “There is nothing to ‘handle.’Máthairand Miss Lydia ha’ seen to it that the ladies are comfortable and well-tended to for the evening in the lodge.” Grant chuckled and pecked a kiss to the end of Joanna’s nose. “They’ll no’ feel too well tomorrow, but for tonight, they’re havin’ a grand time.”

“You don’t understand.” Joanna pulled her hands away and picked up her phone. “We don’t have the money to cover a night of revelry for the gangster grannies. It wasn’t included in their tour fee and there’s no way we can charge them for it now.”

Grant plucked the phone out of her hands. “It’s you who doesna understand.Máthairholds herself responsible for the condition of yer ladies. If she hadna took them to the dyein’ barn, they ne’er wouldha got so wicked pissed.”

“What?”

Leaning against the kitchen island, Grant folded his arms across his chest. “D’ye ken a thing about yarn dyein’ or the processin’ of wool?”

Joanna thought back to the pamphlets about Highland Life and Legends. Nothing about dyeing came to mind, and she sure as hell hadn’t paid attention to the reenactors during any of the other tours. “I’m not familiar with the process,” she said, wishing she could grab her phone away from Grant and get the call to Lucia over and done with.

“Piss sets the color in the yarn. Indulgin’ in a great deal of drink helps ye make the piss ye need t’set yer dye.”

“That’s disgusting.” Joanna suddenly had this mental image of Hazel, Georgetta, Annamae, and Frances chugging shots, then squatting over metal buckets.

Grant nodded. “Be that as it may, the method has worked for centuries to produce some of the finest fabrics ye’ve e’er seen. Yer ladies wanted the authentic experience. I was assured that’s what they got.” Grant shrugged as though everything had been all wrapped up in a tidy little package. “Máthairfeels responsible for the condition of yer ladies. There’ll be no charge for their evening at Highland Life and Legends.”

That made her feel somewhat better. At least their emergency fund was safe. For now. Joanna held out her hand. “I still need to call Lucia and let her know what’s going on. I’ll also need to call Miss Martha at the bed-and-breakfast so she won’t be wondering where we are.”

“I spoke to yer Mistress Lucia and Mistress Lydia called her sister, Mistress Martha. All parties concerned know that ye’ll be in my care this evenin’.”

“Oh really.” Joanna didn’t know whether to kiss him or kick him. How dare he pull off such a stunt as if she didn’t have a choice in the matter! “Did it ever occur to you that I might not want to spend tonight with you?”

Grant slid the phone out of her reach and gathered her into his arms. Walking her backward and pressing her against the counter, he cupped her ass with one hand and pulled her to his chest with the other. Nuzzling his way to her neck, he tickled light kisses up and down her throat. “I feel sure I could change yer mind,” he murmured against the skin beneath her ear.

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