Sparks in Scotland by A. Destiny & Rhonda Helms

Author:A. Destiny & Rhonda Helms
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon Pulse

ChapterEleven

Rise and shine, princess!” Dad said as he shook my shoulder.

I yawned and eyed him with a sleepy glare as I shoved my messy hair out of my face. “It’s not time to get up yet, is it?” The pale gray light slanting through the window told me was early morning. Really early.

“Unfortunately, it is. We’re driving to Loch Ness this morning, and this afternoon will be a visit to the Highland Games! Isn’t that great?” he declared as he tugged the blanket off my curled-up figure. “It’s going to be a busy day for our group. Breakfast first, though. It should be excellent today.”

I had to admit, our B and B owner could cook a mean breakfast. Her eggs were the fluffiest I’d ever had in my life. My stomach gave an involuntary growl, and Dad shot me a knowing look.

“Gimme a half hour to get ready,” I told him with a laugh. Now that I was starting to wake up, the excitement about our day’s trip hit me fully. I jumped out of bed and showered as fast as possible. A peek outside confirmed it was overcast still but not rainy, so I wore jeans, boots, and a long-sleeved shirt with my rain jacket. Since my hair was likely going to be a frizz fest if I didn’t wrestle it under control, I used bobby pins to secure the sides and minimize damage.

I’d packed my bags last night, so I tucked my toiletries in and readied myself for leaving this B and B. When we got to Inverness, we were checking into another inn, where we’d stay for a couple of days.

Mom was sitting on the edge of her bed, flipping through a Scotland tourism magazine. She stood. “Ready to go?”

“Where’s Dad?”

She snorted. “Take a guess.”

I shook my head with a wry smile. “Never mind. Let’s go meet him—he probably has a table already for us . . . and might have finished his food at this point.” Dad was pretty infamous for being unable to patiently wait. If we were shopping, he was three stores ahead. When Mom was getting dressed, he almost always already had her coffee poured and was working on his second cup.

My stomach gave a nervous pitch as we entered the dining room, a cozy blue-walled place with several small tables scattered around. Graham was up and working on his eggs at a table with his dad on the other side of the room. Our eyes connected, and my heart stuttered.

It should be illegal for him to be this handsome. His shirt was a dark-red slim-fit that accented his muscled upper arms and chest.

He gave me a friendly nod, and I returned it. I could totally do this—get through the day without blurting out my growing romantic feelings for him. No problem. Mom and I sat at our table, and the B and B owner, a kindly older woman with a tight gray perm, brought us today’s menu with our choices.

My toast, eggs, and salmon came quickly, and I almost inhaled them.

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