Scot of My Dreams Read Free Page A

me. “Oh, good,” she said, her British accent crisp and pleasant. “I was hoping I wasn’t going to be alone tonight. I’m Lindsey from Liverpool.”
    I leaned down awkwardly to shake her hand. “Willow Ryman. Nice to meet you,” I said.
    She cocked her head. “Is your boyfriend on the third floor as well?”
    “Excuse me?” The brain fog seemed to have increased.
    “Your boyfriend,” she insisted. “It’s crazy that they don’t let us room together, but I suppose they don’t want to promote bad behavior .” She put the words in air quotes.
    “Bad behavior?”
    “You know,” she said, grinning. “Shagging. Not that anything will stop my Lenny from doing…well, you know. At least we have the great outdoors.”
    I didn’t know. Not at all. The last time I had “shagged” anybody was over two years ago. I’d poured my heart and soul into making sure my hair salon was a success. This little girl smirking at me couldn’t be nineteen if she was a day.
    “I’m traveling alone,” I said.
    “Oh.” She radiated disapproval. “I’ve always heard it isn’t smart for a woman to hike and backpack on her own.”
    “I’m not,” I said hastily. “I’m going to be here for a month. Exploring the Highlands. In depth. It’s going to be great.”
    Maybe Lindsey thought I was too old to backpack across Europe, or maybe she felt sorry I was all alone. At any rate, she dropped the inquisition. “We’re doing the Great Glen Way,” she said. “Seventy-nine miles from Inverness to Fort William.”
    “Fort William?” My ears perked up. The words conjured up scenes of torture from the television series Hayley and McKenzie and I had watched again and again. We could practically recite the dialogue by heart.
    Lindsey nodded. “Yes. There’s a group of us doing the route as a last hurrah before we go back to university in a few weeks.”
    I could think of lots better ways to celebrate the end of summer. Ones that didn’t involve hard work and long days. I experienced enough of that in my real life. Despite my current bare-bones situation, I was hoping my trip to Scotland was going to be more about leisure and fun times. Too bad they didn’t have mint juleps in the Highlands. I could use one right about now.
    Lindsey crouched on the floor and rummaged through her pack, searching for something. When she stood up, she had a pocketknife in her hand. “Have you had lunch?” she asked.
    I shook my head. “Big breakfast,” I mumbled, wondering how she had sneaked a pocketknife through airport security.
    “One of the girls on the second floor has a jar of peanut butter and some crackers. You’re welcome to hang out with us.” She reached into her cubicle and came out with a trio of apples, thus explaining the sharp implement.
    Her genuine friendliness and generosity stymied me. I was accustomed to taking care of myself. “Thanks,” I said. “I’m good for now. Maybe I’ll see you at dinner?”
    “Count on it,” she said. “I’ll introduce you to my friends tonight. Later, Willow.”
     

Chapter 4
     
    After the perky Lindsey bounced back out of the room again, I couldn’t help myself. I fell asleep. But only for half an hour. After that, I made myself get up, and I splashed my face with cold water. The ploy worked. Mostly. I meandered downstairs and studied the two large bulletin boards.
    I had all sorts of options. A poetry reading in the nearby village hall. Two kittens, free to a good home. Professional couple in Inverness interviewing prospective live-in nanny in exchange for room and board. Single white male seeking unattached female for travel and shared expenses. I wrinkled my nose. If I was going to be on the lookout for romance, I’d certainly have to look farther afield.
    Rip Van Winkle was hunched over the desk, snoring. I supposed it was a good thing I didn’t need any real assistance. I doubted the old guy would be up to the task.
    When I had exhausted the reading material on the