He glanced at the GPS, corrected for traffic and the stop for the dog Holly was sure to insist on, and quickly calculated. “Ninety-three minutes.”
“Ninety-three?” She grabbed his arm and turned his wrist for a glance at his watch. “I’ll hold you to that.”
The millstone in his soul ground another few inches, straining at the cobwebs that had sprouted around it.
More, his dragon whispered. Keep laughing. Keep waking that part of me.
“You do know what they say about the best laid plans…” she warned.
He looked over, his mouth set in a straight line.
“No matter how much you plan, things turn out differently,” Holly finished. “Believe me, I tried. Once.”
“Once?”
She shrugged. “Maybe twice. Totally not worth it. And the more complicated your plans are, the more you’ll end up winging it in the end.”
“Winging it?”
She nodded firmly. “Winging it. You’ll see.”
Lord, he hoped not.
Then she laughed and raised her arms, making a flapping motion. “Ha. Winging it. You get it?”
His dragon chuckled heartily, and his lips quirked in spite of his efforts to maintain a straight face. One thing was undeniable about Holly. She didn’t just know all about joy, laughter, and fun — she knew how to share them too.
Too bad this wasn’t about fun. He was escorting Holly to the very island where Europe’s deadliest criminal was detained, and anything could go wrong. For her sake, he had to focus on the job, not his heart.
Another few minutes passed in silence. To his surprise, it was he, not Holly, who eventually broke it.
“How have you been?” he asked very quietly.
“Good,” she blurted, averting her eyes. “How about you?”
“Fine.”
Another minute of ponderous silence stretched by, which ought to have suited him just fine. Silence was his thing, not Holly’s. But for once, she was the quiet one, and he found himself burning to hear her voice. Where had she been all these years? What had she done? How much had she changed, if at all?
“What do you do?” he finally asked.
She waved a hand vaguely. “A little of this, a little of that. I take what comes along.”
Somehow, that didn’t surprise him.
“Mostly, I help run outdoor trips in the Wind River Range. Backcountry hiking, horse packing trips, rafting. Other places too, and all kinds of groups. Some for-profit groups, and some at-risk kids or groups of the visually impaired.”
That didn’t surprise him either. Holly could convince anyone to try the impossible.
“In the winter, I help my parents at the distillery. They have a little guesthouse too. You know — whatever makes ends meet.”
He could hear his father’s verdict already. You call that a career?
“And you’re back in Scotland, I see,” she finished.
He nodded curtly.
“Back from the Foreign Legion, right? Do you miss it?”
He thought it over. Yes? No? He still wasn’t sure. “The long marches, no. Some of the people, yes.”
He left it at that, because how could he ever explain? The relentless training and remote missions had been miserable, but those experiences had whipped a ragtag group of strangers into a selfless band of brothers.
It struck him that bringing groups of city slickers into the backcountry might have a similar effect. So maybe Holly would understand. Maybe he ought to tell her about it and finally get some things off his chest. Maybe—
He straightened in his seat. He would do no such thing.
“I bet Penelope is glad you’re back,” Holly muttered.
There was an edge in her voice he didn’t understand. Why Penelope particularly?
He sidestepped the question with one of his own. “What about you? Have you been back to Scotland since…since…”
And bloody hell, he stalled out there, turning pink.
Holly turned and raised her eyebrows. Since the summer we shagged? her expression dared him to say.
He winced and backtracked. “Have you been back to Scotland often?”
She licked her lips, impossible to read. “Lots of times. A year of study abroad, summers working in Trevor’s distillery, two seasons working for PossAbility…” When he tilted his head, she explained. “An outdoor education nonprofit.”
In some ways, nothing would have surprised him, because Holly was that hard to predict. But outdoor education — and nonprofit — fit her to a T.
“Actually, PossAbility asked me to help run two more trips here soon.” She beamed, and he leaned in eagerly. Was Holly staying in Scotland for a longer time?
He was tempted to ask, but just then, Holly’s eyes strayed to the roadside, and she pointed. “Oh! Wait! Stop!”
Her tone was so urgent, he did a quick check in the rearview mirror and pulled over with a screech.
“What?” He scanned the sky for any sign of trouble.
But Holly was already ripping off her seatbelt and jumping out of the car.
He gaped. “Holly! Wait!”
Chapter Five
Lachlan’s dragon roared. My mate! Don’t let her leave again!
But she wasn’t leaving. She turned to him with a huge smile and reached into the back seat.
“Oh my gosh. Look how beautiful it is!”
He stared. Beautiful?
“All those flowers…”
Flowers?
She tilted her head. “What?”
His pounding heart gradually slowed. “I thought it was an emergency.”
“It was. We nearly drove right past this. Isn’t it beautiful?” She wrestled her phone out of her bag, then grabbed Mungo’s leash and skipped into the field.
“Where are you going?” Lachlan called.
“I have to pick some.”
He frowned. “You have to?”
“Of course. For Trevor.”
He looked at the urn. “Why?”
“Why not?”
“Why not isn’t a good reason,” he muttered.
But Holly just called over her shoulder, bubbling with energy, “You want to help?”
He tapped on the steering wheel. No, he did not want to help.
Yes, we do, his dragon murmured.
Maybe so. But what he wanted didn’t matter. He had to concentrate on the task at hand, and that meant keeping Holly safe.
After that, then, his dragon insisted. When this mission is over.
But that wouldn’t work either, so why did he keep torturing himself? His future was all mapped out — two years working as security detail for the Guardians of Scotland, then transferring to their division of internal affairs. That would round out the international experience on his résumé and put him in line for eventual appointment as a Guardian, as his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather had been before him.
All that, and then what? his dragon asked.
He frowned. Wasn’t it obvious?
Spell it out for me.
He frowned. He didn’t have to spell it out. That path had been programmed into him since he was a child. He was to serve the Guardians of Scotland. To keep the country’s shifter and human citizens safe. To make his family proud. And never, ever to let anything get in his way.