Not just a kilt, but also a tuxedo top, the bow tie undone and hanging loosely, a small black leather backpack slung on one shoulder. His square jaw has a light dusting of stubble, and he looks rumpled, despite the fancy dress. Rumpled, butsosexy.
His dark hair is mussed, like at one point in the recent past it was tamed with product but has since escaped its shackles, a rogue curl brushing his forehead. He’s even more handsome in person than in that silly teen sports movie.
What is he doing here? Dressed like that? He must be lost.
Miles’s face is the picture of joy as he rubs behind Bessie’s ear. Boy, does that kilt and knee socks combo ever show off his strong, muscular calves.
Propping my bike against the rickety fence, I listen to his deepvoice as he whispers to Bessie. “Look at you. Aren’t you just the prettiest cow? Yes, you are.”
“Wonderful. Now that’ll surely go to her head. Bessie’s already the vain one.”
At the sound of my voice, he whips around so fast his shiny dress shoes slip in the mud. Everything happens in exaggerated slow motion. His feet completely fly out from under him, and his entire body hovers before landing flat on his arse in the mud, his kilt flipped to his chest, revealing tight black boxers covering strong thighs and a substantial…
I tear my eyes away, landing on his face. His dark eyes are the size of saucers, his mouth is wide open in a perfectO—his expression looks so much like the one he has in the movie when the nerdy girl gets a makeover, I laugh. It starts small, then erupts from me like a bubbled-over glass of champagne.
Miles laughs too, our giggles mingling together in the misty air. He tries to prop himself up on his elbow but slips again, causing another bout of laughter from both of us.
I don’t know what he’s doing here, but I can’t leave him in the mud. Stepping carefully on the slick patch of glaur Miles somehow found himself in, I reach my hand out to him.
MILES
Ending up flat on my ass in the mud about sums up how my journey to Scotland has gone so far. I reach for the hand of the woman with a halo of soft red curls framing her face. Her eyes are so blue they look like the sky, but not the gray clouds behind her. They look like the sky on the bluest day on a white sand beach on a tropical island somewhere. She’s stronger than I expect, and I’m on my feet in one swift move.
“Thanks. I’m Miles.”
She brushes her hands off on her tight jeans, and I can’t help but notice her legs. They’re long, with sculpted thighs that curve up in a lovely swoop to her hips. My eyes linger for a bit too long, and I glance away.
Skye’s cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. “I know. Are you lost?”
“No, we’re shooting a movie here—well, there.” I point to the castle looming in the background. It looks about a million years old. Her face is different when I turn back to her. Her mouth is set in a tight line.
“I live there.”
I thought it was abandoned. From this angle, it doesn’t look up to code.
“You’re shooting a movie?” she continues. “Is that why you’re out here petting my cows dressed like… like a Scottish Ken doll?”
A powerful gust of wind blows, and for the millionth time on this journey, I wish I’d thrown a pair of sweats into my carry-on bag. Goosebumps cover my thighs, driving her point about Scottish Ken home.
I cross my arms, trying to keep some heat in. “I was at a film festival with my brother and wanted to drum up some buzz about this movie. The plan was to change when I landed, but that was shot to hell since somewhere along the way, the airline lost my luggage…”
As I ramble on, I can’t help but notice her unimpressed expression. Why didn’t I buy a pair of sweats at the airport?Because they had such cozy blankets in the first-class lounge.I hadn’t thought of it—I also hadn’t thought to charge my phone, which is why I took a bus from Edinburgh to the Highlands instead of getting picked up. I try again to explain.
“It was all arranged so I could come early, before the rest of the crew.”
She shakes her head and starts walking.
I grab my black leather backpack from where it landed when I ate shit and fall into step next to her. “It’s part of my process to immerse myself in the character. I was nearly to the castle when I saw the cows. They’re so cool. Like rock star cows with their shaggy hair brushing in their eyes. They’re just missing the leather pants, although that would be a bit cannibalistic for them. Maybe some high-quality vegan pleather.”
A tiny smirk plays at the side of her mouth. I’m amusing her at the very least.
“I didn’t catch your name.”
“Skye.”
I laugh.Skye, asin the tropical blue of her eyes. There’s something oddly familiar about the name. I can’t put my finger on it.
“What?”
