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"Aye. It serves my purpose." He flashes me a wicked grin. "But I am wild and barmy, just not as much of a bampot as some people think."
"I see." Oddly, I'm experiencing a powerful urge to climb onto his lap and unzip his pants. "Maybe I'm a bampot too. I got turned on by your land mine display."
"The mines did it? Here I thought it was my kilt that got you fired up."
"It was. But your wildness pushes me over the edge." I slide his hand up my thigh until his fingers brush my groin. "For example, right now I'd love to fuck you while you're driving down the road."
He chuckles. "As much as I want to do that, I think we should wait until we get home. I won't do anything to knowingly put you in danger."
"Oh, come on. Give it a try."
"Not this time." He pulls his hand away but wags his eyebrows at me. "But if you want to shag me while I'm flying Marilyn, feel free."
"Flying Marilyn?"
"Aye, that's my plane. We'll be traveling the retro way to reach England tomorrow."
"Your cousin called Marilyn wretched."
Errol makes a rude noise. "Callum likes to ride a motorcycle. That's far more dangerous than taking a trip in a World War II era DC-3."
"Is your plane really that old?"
"Aye. She's an antique." He glances at me and smiles. "Trust me, lass, Marilyn will get us there safely. Just ask Magnus and Piper. They've traveled the old-fashioned way on my private airline."
Taking a trip on an antique plane doesn't sound terribly appealing. So I have to ask a question. "Why don't we just buy airline tickets?"
"Airline?" He huffs. "No, lass, we'll travel in style and get there without going through security. This is a clandestine expedition, after all."
He won't give up on the idea of traveling on his decrepit plane, and I have to trust he knows what he's doing. Because he's right, this is a clandestine mission.
The man who has an app for setting off mines is going to fly me to England. What have I gotten myself into?
Chapter Eleven
Errol
I think Ashley has finally realized just how barmy I am and just how dangerous this mission will be. Not because of Marilyn. Not because of my land mines, either. I think my preferred mode of travel has convinced her that we will not be embarking on a holiday in the Grand Canyon. This is serious, and we will need to fly under the radar, literally and figuratively, on this adventure.
When we arrive in Loch Fairbairn, heading for our homes, I invite Ashley to have dinner at my place. She declines, politely. I think the lass is exhausted from our supply mission in Inverness, but I also think she hasn't quite digested everything we talked about today. Our unsanctioned expedition will put us in a perilous position. I can't help that. But I suspect Ashley engaged in a wee bit of self-delusion to convince herself this mission wouldn't be dangerous. Now she realizes it will be. The lass needs time to get used to the idea.
I've had years to get used to it. She has days, at most.
Once I've gone into my house and started making some food for myself, I wonder about Ashley. Will she remember to eat? She did seem off kilter when I walked her to her door earlier. Maybe I should cook something for both of us and take a meal to her. I won't insist on eating with her. She can have her privacy and quiet time, but I need to make sure she's well-nourished.
When I knock on her door, holding a plate of food, she opens the door and stares at the plate. I hold it out to her. "Not here to fash you. Just wanted to give you a good meal."
"You made me dinner?"
"Aye." I thrust the plate even closer to her. "There are no strings attached to this food, if that's what you're worried about. I only meant to ensure you ate enough."
She cautiously accepts the plate. "Thank you, Errol. That was very thoughtful."
I shrug. "Just taking care of my business partner. Get plenty of rest tonight. Tomorrow, we leave at eight thirty for our trip to Manchester."
"Okay. I'll be ready."
"Good." I clasp her free hand and kiss it. "Sleep well,gràidh."
