Page 24 of Priceless (Return to Culloden Moor #7)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

V onnie returned to the table, frantic, but with a platter full of plates, which she quickly unloaded.

“Dinnae mind Abby Abernathy, do ye hear? He’s never bought a round in his life and he’s not about to do it now.

It means nothing that Jacob is walkin’ Cora Woodbrey home tonight.

Just because she’s begged him to do it a thousand times.

He’s only gone to give her the news in private, see.

Wouldn’t want to humiliate her in front of this lot. ”

Jess cocked her head. “And Banner?”

“He’s followin’ to make sure Jacob gets out in one piece. Now, they ordered ye some supper, and they’ll be back to join ye before ye eat it all, ye’ll see.” Then she was off again.

I looked at the food. Everything on the menu, it looked like. It would take hours to eat it all, with just the two of us. And a bigger stomach than I had. It looked like Jacob didn’t expect to be back for a long time.

“Jess?”

“Aye?”

“Maybe you’d better tell me what Cora Woodbrey looks like.”

When she picked up a Scotch egg and shoved it in her mouth whole, without dipping it in sauce, I understood.

“Widow Woodbrey isn’t a hundred years old, is she?”

Jess shook her head.

“She probably doesn’t have gray hair, either.”

Another shake.

“And this is the first time he’s ever walked her home?”

Jess nodded.

“I guess we’d better pace ourselves, eat slowly. They might be starved by the time they get back.”

Her eyes popped wide, and she spoke with her mouth full. “Both of them?”

I shrugged. “I guess that depends on how hungry she is.”

I don’t know what was in the text Jess sent to her husband, but Banner came flying past the windows and through the pub door about seven minutes after it was sent.

Jacob was close on his heels, though he was having a hard time simultaneously walking and laughing his guts out.

Bent in half and gasping, he stopped just inside the door to catch his breath.

When he recovered, he ducked into the kitchen for a minute before he came to the table. And by the time he reached us, Banner had already scooped Jessica into his arms and was headed out the door, like a caveman in a hurry to take his woman back to their cave.

“See ye in the morning, Jacob,” Jess shouted between giggles. “At the dock. Five-o’clock!”

He shouted after her. “What are ye on about?”

“Yer woman will explain! Dinnae forget to bring lunch!”

The door closed on anything else she might have wanted to say.

I tried to act cool when Jacob sat down across from me once again. “Banner seems in a hurry.”

“Aye. He has much to prove.” He shook his head, avoiding eye contact. “Nevermind. What is this about five in the mornin’?” He began gathering food on a mostly empty plate like he was starving to death.

“Jess has invited us to go fishing with them tomorrow. She said something about the North Sea.”

He looked up then. “Aye? And how does that sound to ye?”

I shrugged. “I’m available.”

He suddenly stood and leaned over the table, grabbed my head and gave me an herb butter infused kiss before looking in my eyes.

“Available for fishin’, aye. But not available.

” He finally smiled at his own cleverness, then sat down and started eating again.

While I was just sitting over here wondering if, after he was done eating, he planned to throw me over his shoulder and take me upstairs.

What the hell did this widow look like anyway? Was all this alpha male stuff just fallout from the men walking her home?

It was hard to believe that I had that effect on Jacob. But then I remembered that hot and heavy kiss on the shore and I thought… maybe.

I decided to prod a little. “How is the Widow Woodbrey?”

He kept chewing but gave a little snort. “She’ll recover.”

I had been up at five in the morning plenty of times when I was young and started working at Spiro’s Farms. Picking strawberries, raspberries, and blackberries had to happen in the early morning for lots of reasons.

Besides the obvious, like cooler temperatures and firmer fruit that was easier to handle, the berries could lose moisture and sweetness in later hours.

They also had a longer shelf life if picked in the early morning.

Maybe those early mornings had something to do with my dislike of strawberries to this day.

The mere fact that I was getting up that early again was pretty telling about how I felt about Jacob.

Just the chance to be with him again brought me wide awake when the alarm went off.

Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and willing to do something that scared the crap right out of me.

I was going to go out on the ocean, in a boat, in water filled with sharks and killer whales.

Something I swore I would never do. If Raina knew my plans, she’d find a way to fly to Inverness and save me.

That’s what a good sister she was. She knew how terrified I would be, every minute, until I was safely back on land.

But two things were going to get me on that boat, on that water—the chance to spend the day with Jacob, and the fact that Jess had promised me the boat was big.

Obviously, my fear comes from the fact that I saw Jaws , the movie, at an impressionable age. It didn’t matter how big a boat was, it would never be big enough to make me feel safe. But a big boat with Jacob there to keep me safe? When would I have a better time to face my fear?

Of course, I didn’t intend to let anyone in Scotland know how terrified I was.

If I kept my imagination from wandering below the surface of the water, I would be fine.

Surely, I could find something else to look at, instead of the North Sea.

Something that could hold my attention for an entire day.

Something like…a Scotsman who liked me a little too.

He picked me up at twenty minutes to five. In the dark. Waiting on the doorstep of Bluebell House to greet me with a quick kiss. Thankfully, even in my zombie state, I’d remembered to brush my teeth. He tasted like toothpaste too.

“Mornin’.”

“Morning.”

“Hungry?”

“Too soon.”

“Aye. For me as well.” He opened the door for me and closed it carefully, and I wondered if he had a hangover.

If he’d had anything stronger than a pint at the pub, I hadn’t seen it.

We’d decided not to stay up late, so we could get some sleep.

But after he’d dropped me off, I couldn’t say what he’d done.

As I’d told Jocko, the kiss goodnight was a lot more tame than the one at the shore.

Disappointed? Of course. But it was also sweet of him. Another hot kiss would have made it impossible to get to sleep.

Aye. Ye’ll need sleep. I can’t wait to hear about the fishing trip.

Goodnight.

Sweet dreams.

When Jacob climbed behind the wheel and again, closed his door carefully, I had to ask, “Hangover?”

“Nay. But I wouldnae want to wake the neighborhood at this ungodly hour.”

“Oh. Right. I don’t think I’m alert enough to have thought of that.”

“All I can promise is that I can drive a straight line.”

“Just remember to stay on the wrong side of the road.”

“I can manage that.”

The air tasted different at that hour, and brought all those berry-picking memories back with perfect clarity. The raspberry fights when the bosses weren’t watching. The frustration of going home early enough to go back to bed, but too awake to take advantage of it.

The closer we got to the water, however, the smells changed, reminding me of the night before, standing on that shore, watching the lights dance, feeling my blood dance…

In the ten minutes it took to reach the dock, I was tempted to lean against the window and close my eyes.

But I didn’t. And I tried not to do the math, to figure out how long it would be before I could go back to bed.

Including Trenton, the chef, at least four people were trying to make sure I had a good time, and I wouldn’t mope around all day wishing they hadn’t.

The dock smelled…weird. Kind of sharp, kind of sour, kind of like someone had spilled pickle juice into an ashtray.

I tried hard not to wrinkle my nose. and tried to look impressed anyway.

Jacob lugged a long cooler out of the back of his Land Rover, then tossed it onto his shoulder like it was a shoebox.

The least I could do was not whine about odors.

I turned to look for the fishing boat that was supposedly waiting for us, but it was impossible to see anything on the other side of the monstrous-sized ship in front of us. Then I read the name and my mouth fell open.

The Mad Molly.

I could have wept for joy—we definitely would not need a bigger boat.