I round the front, sliding into the driver’s seat, and immediately feel the weight of her gaze.
She breaks the silence first. “How much do I owe you?”
I glance at her as I twist the key in the ignition. “For what, lass?”
She shifts in her seat, the playful confidence from before slipping. “For the hotel, or wherever we’re staying?”
“Not a thing, Sunshine.” I glance at her from the corner of my eye. “I’ve got a place in Edinburgh. I do enough business there that it made sense to have somewhere to stay.”
Her lips press together like she’s turning that over in her head, trying to decide if that answer satisfies whatever questionshe isn’t asking out loud.
“Two bedrooms,” I add. “In case you don’t want to get snuggly.”
Her head tilts, and I swear I can see the moment she decides to roll with it. “And here I thought you’d want to spoon all night.”
I chuckle, shifting the truck into gear. “Oh, don’t worry. If you ask nicely, I might still let you.”
Her laughter bursts out, bright and carefree. I could listen to it forever and forget the rest of the world even exists.
And then there’s her scent. Honey and wild roses, winding through every breath I take. It’s making it hard to focus on the road and keep myself in check when all I want to do is pull over and?—
“That sounds great,” she says, breaking into my thoughts. “And I don’t think we’ll need the second bedroom.”
“Music to my ears, love,” I mutter without thinking. The moment the words slip out, I wince. Damn it. I didn’t mean to come on that strong. I glance at her out of the corner of my eye, half worried I’ve crossed an invisible line.
She doesn’t seem to mind. Her eyes are still shining, and she’s got that playful spark lighting them up like she’s not bothered at all. If anything, she looks a little more relaxed.
Her phone rings, and I catch the way her expression shifts into a quick grimace before she masks it.
“Everything all right?”
“Probably not,” she mutters under her breath, already reaching for the phone. “It’s the hospital where I work. I better take this.”
“Hi, Lis—” She doesn’t even get the full name out before whoever’s on the other end barrels over her. Her shoulders tense, and she sits a little straighter, fingers tightening around her phone like she’s bracing for impact.
“No, I can’t come into work tomorrow. I’m not even in the country,” she says, her voice clipped.
I steal another glance at her, and it’s like I’m looking at a stranger. Gone is the Bree who teases without missing a beat. In her place is someone wound too tight, her grip on the phone white-knuckled, her jaw set like she’s biting back words she’d rather not say. Her eyes darken, focused on a point in the distance, not really seeing anything at all.
“Lisa, my time off has been approved for months. I’ll be back in the country on Friday.”
The voice on the other end of the line gets louder. I can’t make out the words, but I don’t need to. Bree’s fingers are twitching like she’s holding back the urge to launch her phone across the cab.
“No, I can’t find a flight that leaves today… You’re writing me up? For being on vacation with myapprovedvacation time?”
A pause. Then, flatly, “Okay. Yeah. Bye.”
She jams her finger against the phone screen with force and puts it down slowly, her hand still gripping tight.
Her face has gone pale, and her chest rises and falls a little too fast in an attempt to force all that anger down and lock it up before it spills over.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shouldn’t have answered that.”
“Don’t apologize, lass. I’m just pissed off that someone’s made you feel like that.”
She lets out a short laugh, but there’s nothing cheerful about it. “It’s just Lisa. My boss. She’s awful. I’ve been trying to get a transfer, maybe move to another hospital, but nothing’s working out. With everything going on this year, switching jobs probably isn’t the smartest move.”
“Aye, I get that. You could always quit and move to Scotland instead,” I suggest, half joking.
