His snout immediately in my neck.
“Fergus, you dog,” Lain says, going to pull him away.
“He’s fine,” I tell him, petting a spot behind his ear that has him lulling his tongue out, his thick gray and white tail flapping back and forth.
Lain gives me a goofy smile as he takes his seat in the front. He puts on a little headset and starts the van.
“First off, thank you for choosing Lain Highland Tours. I know you have other subpar options in the area, and you were wise enough to ken this was the best one. Since you’re a special bunch, we’ll take the scenic route.”
The couples laugh behind me and I can’t help but to smile.
“On our left is River Tummel. Does anyone ken what it’s most famous for?”
“The salmon,” the deep timbre of the older gentleman sitting behind me says.
“Ah, we’ve got ourselves a smart one on this trip. You’re right, River Tummel has the largest salmon in the area. If you fancy yourself a fresh salmon dish, Greer’s has the best in town,” Lain says, and I smirk.
These two have themselves a little racket where they recommend each other.
The scenery is gorgeous through the windows, as I enjoy a mix of history, facts, and jokes from Lain. It’s clear that he loves this place and he’s passionate about it.
It’s not hard to love something so beautiful, though.
The couples behind me ask him a few questions, which he answers with ease, and I just hang out in my seat. At a certain point, there’s a lull in the tour, when we’re no longer by the river.
Lain turns off his headset and slightly turns toward me, his eyes still firmly on the road.
Fergus hasn’t left my side. He also doesn’t let me stop petting him, either.
“How is your trip going?” he asks.
“Mmm. Depends, how much do you know?”
“I live with Greer,” he says, and I groan. “He didn’t say anything bad, just that maybe you were having a hard time.”
I lean my face against the top of Fergus’ head, maybe to hide my reaction.
“I was fired for my designation, and I guess I just haven’t had the easiest trip so far.”
“Isn’t that illegal?” Lain asks.
“There’s a lawyer back home I have looking into it. But I don’t want to think about it,” I say.
“Then I shall do my best to distract you,” he says, putting on his headset. “Folks, this wasn’t on the itinerary, but what do we say about stopping over at the Queen’s View before we head over to Loch Rannoch?”
There’s a series of whoops behind me and I smile sheepishly as Lain makes a turn.
“The Queen's view is controversial as to whether it was Queen Victoria in 1866 or if it was Queen Isabella over five-hundred years prior who deemed the view worthy of a royal. If you ask me, my money is on Isabella, but you’ll see for yourself why the view is fit for a queen. Feel free to go to the visitor’s center, grab a coffee, and take a walk around. Everyone just meet back at the van in a half hour.”
He pulls up to the visitor’s center, puts a leash on Fergus, and leads everyone off the van. The two couples go their separate ways as Lain leads me down a trail.
“Was this not actually on the tour?” I ask.
“No. I never list it, but I include it in the estimated time and act like it’s not included. It always makes the tourists feel like they’re getting special treatment,” he says and I gasp.
“A swindler in a kilt, I would have never guessed.”
He grins, a dimple forming on his left cheek only. Shit, that’s cute. I clear my throat, looking away from him.
