“Uh, we drove up the 15 from Hemet. We didn’t take a plane to another country,” I say. “I already made a big move, and I have nothing to show for it.”
She nods in understanding, but it doesn’t change her long sigh as her shoulders slump. A defeated posture if I’ve ever seen one. “I need this, Bonnie. I need this adventure, something to get me out of here, away from the memories. I know running away isn’t the answer to my problems, but I just need a chance to breathe, at least.”
I study her. Vulnerability shines through the tough armor she wears daily. “Did something happen?”
Her teeth roll over her bottom lip. “It was the day you were fired. I ran into Isabella . . . with her new girlfriend.”
“What?” I practically shout. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“Because you’d been fired. You needed me, so I held it in, but it’s been eating at me. They were so happy and—” Her bottom lip quivers, so I quickly pull her into a hug.
“Shhh, it’s okay.” I squeeze my eyes shut and hold back the onslaught of curse words I want to call Isabella. I rub Dakota’s back, my eyes traveling to the open laptop. “You really want to go to Scotland?” I ask, still in denial that this is real.
Dakota pulls away and wipes at her eyes. “I really need this, Bonnie, and I think you do too. Let’s get you out of this rut you’re living in and find joy in the Highlands. This is our chance to reset, do something different, and just live freely for a few months.”
“So you’re dead serious? You want to move to Scotland for six months and run a coffee shop, even though we know nothing about coffee.”
She nudges me playfully. “You know coffee—you’ve been retrieving it for the past three years. Plus, you learned how to work that one espresso machine when you worked for Lisa. You were making all sorts of drinks by the end.”
“And getting a coffee order wrong was the excuse she used to fire me.”
Yeah, got a coffee order wrong. It was embarrassing, to say the least. But Daloria Day—America’s sweetheart—was looking for a reason to fire me. We didn’t get along.
She waves her hand at me. “Semantics.” She shakes my arm. “Come on. Accommodations are set, job security for six months, and the promise of adventure. Tell me you’re in.”
Damn those big blue eyes staring back at me.
I want to do this for her, but . . . there’s an inch of fear trying to take up space in the back of my mind.
I moved to Los Angeles, and I still haven’t found myself.
And now I could move to Scotland . . . to find myself. How could that possibly be any different? This is just one more risk that probably won’t pay off. I wanted nothing more than to prove my parents wrong, and to prove the five universities I applied to my senior year in high school wrong too. I wanted to show them all that I’m worthy, that I have potential. But all I’ve done is prove to the world that I’m dispensable.
Will it be the same in Scotland?
I glance at Dakota as she quietly mouths, “Please.”
Damn it.
Damn it all to hell.
We might not even be picked—there’s no guarantee.
Smiling, I say, “I’m in.”
And that’s how I ended up in Scotland for six months. Fun story, huh?
Well, thanks for stopping by, hope—
What’s that?
Leans in
What about the hot Scot?
And the Castration Stone?
And this Fergus fellow?
I mean, if you really want to know, then I guess I can tell the rest of the story. But prepare your hearts, because this is one hell of an adventure.
CHAPTER TWO
BONNIE
Cake consumed today: None, and frankly, I don’t think I can function properly.
Job offers accepted: One, and I have little to no experience for it.
Days since last male-induced orgasm: Seventy, and I wiped a cobweb from my lady area this morning.
Current residence: Scotland, apparently.
This is what they call making a decision on a whim. Let’s hope it doesn’t bite me in the butt.
“No way am I driving that,” I say, folding my arms over my chest. “This was your grand idea—you drive it.”
Surrounded by stone buildings that look like they’ve been plucked straight from Mary Poppins, Dakota and I stand in front of our rental car, four large bags by our side and a rope in hand. Cars speed right by us, filling up Inverness’s charming, if narrow, city streets. There isn’t a tree in sight, just wall-to-wall cement and stone, but the spectacular architecture is making my mouth water—and I’ve never thought twice about architecture until this moment.