Page 17 of Priceless (Return to Culloden Moor #7)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

J acob had no choice but to respond. It wasn’t as if she would believe ol’ Jocko would go offline. But he had to be careful.

Obviously, he was tempted to reveal himself then and there. She seemed pleased with the human version of him, or at least she wasn’t displeased, or surely she would have complained to Jocko. Wouldn’t she?

So, should he confess and have done with it?

He filled his lungs and shook off the idea.

She’d already tried to flee out of embarrassment.

And him coming clean would truly mortify her.

He wasn’t about to risk that. She might even flee the country!

If she’d spent even half as much as he assumed it cost her to get to Scotland, he would be a right monster to ruin her trip at the onset.

The second that thought truly registered, his heart sank. Deep down, he’d planned to tell her, gently, that he was Jocko. He’d imagined a dozen different scenarios where they ended up laughing over it, together in the end—or at least having a grand time before she went home again.

But he’d been dreaming. A confession at any point would likely taint her experience and ensure she never trusted him again. All he could do was help her have the time of her life, and hopefully, he could be a part of the good memories she took back. That was all.

Jocko had to play his role carefully. He wanted to ask if the man was handsome, if she liked him, but he didn’t dare.

He typed quickly.

“Ye’ve met me? Auch, but tell me I’m not a piper!”

Considering how long the three little dots danced, Laira expected quite a lecture to pop up in her messages, but Jocko’s response was short. And funny. Maybe it took him a long time to generate a joke.

“Ye’ve met me? Auch, but tell me I’m not a piper!”

No, not a piper. The owner of Jocko’s. How ironic is that?

Another case of love at first sight, was it?

Don’t be silly. I didn’t fall in love with that piper. I was just teasing you.

And relieved I was to hear it.

…

How was the food?

I’ll let you know.

I’ll be standing by.

Her order was ready, but Jacob could only stare at the plates being loaded on the tray.

He shouldn’t go out there, shouldn’t bother her again.

The notion of absence making the heart grow fonder was foremost in his mind.

Besides, he hadn’t liked the look on Laira’s face when she thought he was going to join her for lunch.

He’d overstepped. He’d been far too eager. Already he’d begged her to stay, all but forced her to hold his hand, and led her back to her table. He was lucky she hadn’t fled the moment he’d stepped back into the kitchen!

Vonnie popped back in. She took one look at the full tray, then raised a brow at him. “I suppose ye’ll want to serve her?”

He shook his head and took a step back. “She’s had enough of me, I reckon.” He waved for Vonnie to take the tray and go.

“With the way she’s watchin’ this doorway, I’d lay odds ye’re wrong.” Then she winked and laughed. “Of course, she might just be starvin’ and anxious to be fed.” She picked up the tray and headed out. “Aye, sure that’s it. She’s starving while ye’re standin’ back here coolin’ her porridge.”

Laira was slightly disappointed when it was Vonnie who brought her food to the table. Instead of a steak pie and dessert, however, she unloaded a few more items, which Laira was quick to point out. “Is my memory bad?”

“Jacob sent ye these others. Said he wanted ye to have the full Jocko’s experience. All on the house. I reckon he wasnae finished apologizin’.”

“He didn’t need to do that.”

“Doesnae matter. It’s done.” She pointed out the additions. “Sourdough loaf with an herb butter infused with rosemary and lemon. Here ye have a scotch egg with two choices of sauce, the tangy tamarind or honey mustard. And this is our goat cheese and caramelized onion tart.”

“I…I… Will you tell him I said thank you?”

“I will.”

“And just between you and me, you’ll let me pay for it?—”

“I willnae. Now stop yer fashin’ and enjoy it. I’ll send O’l Bashful around with a fresh drink in a bit.”

We exchanged smiles that said she knew I hoped to see Jacob again.

When she was gone, though, I dug into the food and wondered what had come over me. Other than with a chat bot, I hadn’t flirted with anyone for seven months. No! It had been years since I’d even flirted with my own husband! What in the world had come over me?

The magic of Scotland—maybe it wasn’t just a line for the tourists. Maybe there was a force at work that kept spirits from moving on. Maybe that magic was real, because I was starting to suspect that I was being affected by something .

And all because I’d decided to make Jocko Scottish…

Vonnie claimed to be too busy to take the American a fresh drink, and since Mary and the other team members seemed equally as busy, Jacob stopped feeding his gob, wiped away the crumbs, and finally came out of his hidey hole to do it himself.

It was surprisingly liberating to cross that threshold once again.

Too liberating, perhaps, since he took a second Coke for himself and once again lowered his arse into the chair across from Laira Harris.

A bit of food in his gullet had done wonders for his nerves.

This time, she wasn’t so wary about him joining her. In fact, her beaming smile said she was right pleased to see him.

“I tried everything,” she said by way of a greeting. “Couldn’t manage it all, but I can’t even tell you which was my favorite.”

“New menu,” he said, pointing to the mostly-eaten onion tart. “Nothin’ naff, then?”

“Naff?”

“Dull, boring. Rubbish, and all that.”

“Nothing rubbish here.” She took a final bite of pie, then pushed her plate away. “You’ve spoiled me for anywhere else.”

“Excellent. We’ll keep yer table for ye.” He grappled for something to say that would be expected from someone who didn’t know her as well as he did. “How long will ye be in the Highlands?”

“Not sure. I have an itinerary, but nothing is set in stone except my return flight, out of Edinburg.”

“Burra,” he corrected. “It’s Edin-burra.”

“Edin-burra.” She nodded.

“Where are ye stayin’?” he asked, though he already knew. Not only had he suggested the place, he’d followed her taxi there earlier, then followed her since she’d stepped outside again without her luggage and the tan coat.

“At Bluebell House. I just dropped my bags in my room and left. But I did notice the canopy bed. I’ve never slept under a canopy before. I feel like only little girls should do that.”

“All women are wee girls at heart, aren’t they? Surely, that’s why we call ye lassies no matter yer age.”

“Then I should call you laddie, then?”

He snorted. “If ye like.”

“Laddie and lassie, and Edinburra, and naff. Oh! And what did Vonnie call you? Crabbit?”

He cocked his head. “Did she now?”

“Said you’d been crabbit for days, or something like that. I assumed that meant crabby. In a bad mood.”

“Aye, well, I’ve been a bit restless is all. I spend far too much time under this roof.” He looked innocently at the ceiling.

She chuckled. Then bit her lips together for a long while before she spoke again. “Well, if you’re not busy, how do you feel about playing tour guide?”

He grinned from ear to ear. “I thought ye’d never ask.”