The Highland Fling by Meghan Quinn

Author:Meghan Quinn [Quinn, Meghan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Montlake
Published: 2021-08-23T18:30:00+00:00

“Hey, Leith,” I say, walking up to the high-top table he’s occupying in the pub.

“Bonnie, you’re looking beautiful tonight.” He pulls me into a tight hug, enveloping me in his woodsy cologne. It’s nice.

“Thank you. You’re very handsome yourself.”

I take a step back as he adjusts the collar of his shirt. “I ironed this myself.”

“Well, you did a superior job.”

“Thank you. Now, what can I help you with? I know you’re looking for something, because you have a little crinkle between your eyes.” He pokes my forehead and chuckles.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Aye.” He nods.

“I was looking for Rowan. I was hoping he’d be here. We have some unfinished business.”

“Does this have to do with him walking out of your cottage this morning? Isla told me she spotted the old scoundrel.”

Wow, news spreads even quicker here than in Los Angeles, where people live and breathe by gossip websites.

“Nothing happened.”

“So I’ve been told.” He shakes his head. “If it were me, something would have happened. You’re a fine lass, quite the catch.”

I chuckle and tip his chin. “And you’re quite the ladies’ man.”

“Try to be, but I ken it’s the broody one you’re after.”

I shake my head. “Not after him; just need to talk to him.”

“So you’re telling me there’s still a chance?”

I shrug. “Never say never.”

He fist pumps the air playfully. “I’ll take it.”

“Now, would you be able to tell me where Rowan is?”

“Most likely hunkered down in his cottage.”

Well, that’s not helpful. I purse my lips and look to the side, trying to figure out what to do next.

“I can tell you how to get there if you want. About a five-minute walk from here.”

Look at Leith being a good friend. He very well might be my favorite Murdach now.

“You don’t think he’d get mad?”

Leith gives me a good once-over. “If you showed up at my door, I definitely wouldn’t be mad.”

“Okay, okay, enough with the flirting—you’re going to make me blush.”

He chuckles. “We Scots are quite the charmers. Now, come here.” He stands from his seat and guides me out the front door and around the corner. “See that road over there, Loch Lane?” He points to a street just around the petrol station. “Take that all the way to the end. You’ll come to a cottage on the right—can’t miss it. Navy-blue door. That’s Rowan’s place.”

“That seems pretty easy.”

“Can’t get lost. Good luck, lass.”

With a quick goodbye, I take off down Loch Lane, admiring all the little cottages I pass on the way. I can’t imagine how anyone would want to live somewhere else. It truly feels like an entirely made-up world out here, a world you only see in movies and storybooks. As I come to the end of the lane, I spot a cottage on the right, tucked behind some trees. Its door is painted navy blue.

A stone wall circles the front of the cottage with an old iron gate, potted flowers hang off the house on hooks, and the white walls glisten in the sun.

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