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My silly little heart soared.
Carlos turned in his seat to face me. “What brought you out to bonnie old Scotland, Molly?”
Why Scotland for my first international trip ever—not that he knew that last part? It was more than just the prospect of rugged views and a long-awaited break from work, but I didn’t know how to explain the rest. My ex’s surprise wedding. My parents living it up in their retirement. My best friend moving into a new stage of adulthood. And me…just chugging along in the status quo.
How do you tell a stranger you haven’tcarpe’dyourdiems?
“I just needed a vacation.”
He looked me over but shifted his focus behind me. “Harlow, you’ve been to Scotland before, haven’t you?”
“Twice,” she said.
A look of triumph crossed his face, a silentTold ya. Yeah, well, Harlow’s nose probably wasn’t pressed against the window glass the way mine was.
“So you’ve been here before?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah, I travel for work all the time.”
“Is this a work trip then?”
He grinned, his teeth seeming especially white. “This is all play.”
Uh-huh. I didn’t want to travel with a group of anti-social people, but I hadn’t planned for the frat boy package, either. I went back to gazing out the window, and he did the same. Now and then, we passed through small villages full of stone houses on our journey north. Barreling through such quaint little towns seemed a crime. I had to stop myself from leaping up the aisle and forcing Lewis to stop the bus so I could get out and take photographs. I wanted to wander the towns, hear my shoesclick-clackon cobblestone streets, and catch the sound of bagpipes wailing mournfully in the distance.
I’d tucked my fancy DSLR into my backpack and couldn’t wait to use it. I didn’t use it much lately, but it’d collected photos from my camping trips and staycations, and now finally had the chance to take some truly gorgeous pictures. I would absolutely abuse my tourist privileges and cram that thing full of photos.
I stared open-mouthed out the windows over Duncan’s shoulder. The highway ran parallel to a river, and on the far side, right on the water, delightful stone buildings nestled close together in a most Dickensian way. A tower with a dramatic spire stood in the center of the row as though looking down on everything around it.
“There goes Perth,” Arnav chirped.
“Wow.” Leaning across the aisle, I craned my neck, following what I could of the town until trees next to the roadway swallowed it up.
Duncan’s mouth twitched. Probably because I was basically perched on my hands and knees on the seat, desperate for a good view. I slipped back into a more normal seated position, heat crawling up my neck. I might not have told them this was my first international trip, but it wouldn’t take anyone long to figure it out if I kept drooling over everything we passed.
“Is it living up to the hype?” he asked in a low voice.
The truth was, I’d fallen in love with the country in a couple of hours, but I would never tell him that. Not when he’d already made it clear he found my touristy enthusiasm annoying.
I shrugged as though I had no opinion one way or another. “It’s not bad.”
He chuckled again. That sound didnotget my stomach swooping. No. It was from the thrill of being in Scotland only.
We passed through low farmlands divided up into neat blocks that gradually turned into a sea of green and purple heather. Taking photos through the window of a moving vehicle would only end in a blurry mess, but I nearly tugged my camera from my bag anyway. I couldn’t get enough of the views, and we weren’t even looking at anything much yet.
Finally, a sign announced the town of Aviemore. Lewis slowed the bus up a narrow lane to our lodge. I laughed like a little kid when I saw the stone Victorian guest house with dormer windows and tall chimneys. Modern houses sat beyond the grounds, but if I looked at the guest house from just the right angle, I could pretend I’d stepped back in time. Or at least onto a Masterpiece Theatre set.
Our group filed off the bus, moving slowly to stretch our legs after the long drive. Lush green hills surrounded us, and although the lodge sat on a main thoroughfare, it was neither noisy nor busy. It was peaceful and wonderful and even the air smelled fresher.
A man and woman came out of the lodge to shake hands with Lewis.
“These are our hosts, Ian and Brenda,” he said. “They’ll look after us during our stay here.”
“If there’s anything you need, just ask,” Brenda said.
“We have you doubled up in the rooms,” Lewis went on, “except for Spencer, who’ll have his own.”
“I wouldn’t mind trading you for that.” Carlos bumped Spencer with his shoulder, but the other man just looked uncomfortable.
