Stolen (Wild Mountain Scots, #3)

The first reply came from Heather, my roommate freshman year. We’d lived together until she’d left for a senior year in a different college.

Heather: Hey. No, not me. Is everything okay? I’m broke AF so don’t give me bad news.

Rory: Never mind! It’s a mystery. I’ll ask around our other roomies.

She sent a relieved smiley face, and I scanned the next set of messages. All my East Coast buddies were just waking up.

“That was a no, and the rest are the same,” I told Maddock. “No one’s claiming it.”

He hummed then squinted at the junction ahead, not that there were many other cars on the road.

Another message popped in.

Heather: Did you check with the Godsons? And that girl who only lasted one semester?

Ah! “One of my roommates just reminded me of a few more names,” I said to Maddock. “We had a big house, and sometimes people moved in for short periods. This English sister and brother were there for a while. Pen and Johnnie. Then a girl from Switzerland. I forget her name.”

I sent my stock message to Pen Godson—her dumbass brother and I had dated for a hot minute, and I didn’t want to go there—but then my attention was stolen by the view.

The rise in the road gave way to a dam, then a lake spreading out behind it. With a backdrop of mountains, it made a dramatic sight.

“Glascarnoch Dam. It generates hydroelectricity,” Maddock said. “I know that boring fact because I flew out here with my cousin, Blayne. He’s an engineer and works on things like that. He wanted the aerial view.”

“And it’s just here by the roadside, with us driving by. I love how everything in the Highlands is either so stark or utterly picturesque. The cold mountains, then tiny clusters of houses. It makes me want to sit and sketch.”

He glanced over. “You draw?”

“I do. Except I haven’t since hurting my arm as I’m meant to rest it.”

“What style of thing?”

My cheeks warmed. I’d brought my tablet along in case the urge took me to create. “If you like, later, I’ll show you some of my stuff.”

“I’d love to see it.”

He drove on, and I mentally sorted my portfolio to decide on my best work.

A short while after, the scenery changed again. The road plunged between high hills, and another wide loch spread out.

“Loch Broom,” Maddock continued his tour guide role. “It connects to the sea and leads out to the Summer Isles. Also contains our destination. Ullapool is up ahead.”

“Sounds like something from Game of Thrones.”

He waggled his head. “Hopefully the Scottish version will have less murder and maiming.”

We drove into the harbour town. Guest houses lined the road, boats bobbed on the water. Maddock slowed the car, and I grabbed my phone and took a picture of a road sign. All the location names were in both English and Scottish.

“Hey, do you speak Scottish?” I asked.

“Gaelic? No, brèagha,” he answered.

I whipped my head around to witness his shit-eating grin.

“What does that mean? Bree-ah.”

“Beautiful. It’s pretty much the only word I know, and only because Da uses it for my mother. But it fits ye, too.”

He pulled on the wheel to bring us into a parking lot, all while I reeled from his words. I couldn’t read this guy. The chemistry between us was so dense, I could cut it with a knife, yet I also had the no-touch vibe from him. Only time would tell which way we’d fall. I knew where I wanted to land.

At a single-storey guesthouse, Maddock rang the bell, seeming to know exactly where to go.

A man answered, his beard neatly trimmed and a small pair of glasses perched on his nose.

“Hey, I’m looking for my brother, Max McRae. I was told he’s staying here.”

The man did a comic double-take. “Christ, ye have the look of him.”

“Then he’s here?”

“Was. He left a couple of days ago.”

“Do you know where he went?” I asked.

“I’m naw sure. He was working with a couple of the local kids and their cars. Old Douglas will know. He’s a councillor and part of the group who organised the training.”

“Could you please give us Douglas’s phone number or address? We really need to speak to Max,” I asked.

The man narrowed his eyes, likely wondering why we didn’t just ring Max himself.

“It’s important,” I added, “and we can’t get hold of Max by his phone. It must be broken.”

The man relented, his shoulders coming down a degree. “Old Douglas lives out at Applecross. Ye might find your brother there. Last cottage on the strip, pass the pub and head to the end of the beach.”

We thanked him and walked down the pavement.

I peeked up at Maddock. “Where’s Applecross?”

He frowned and found his phone, tapping on the screen. “A couple of hours’ drive south, and right on the coast.”

“Then we’d better get going.”

“Are ye hungry? It’s right on lunchtime.”

My stomach took the opportune moment to growl.

Maddock grinned. “We’ll grab food then continue our wild brother hunt.”

A short stop in a supermarket gave us a picnic, and we got back in the car. I regretted leaving Ullapool without being able to explore the pretty town further, but we were on a mission. Maddock drove, and I ate.

When I was done with my sandwich, I offered him his. “Want me to feed you bites as we go? Or I can take a turn behind the wheel.”

The idea of driving on the wrong side of the road genuinely terrified me. But traffic was sparse, and the heavy rain had stopped. The experience could be fun.

Maddock’s eyebrows raised. “I love the idea of ye feeding me, but would ye seriously like to drive?”

“Unless you’re worried about me denting your ride.”

He glanced in the rearview, then pulled over at the side of the road. “Have ye seen this thing? This car can take a pounding. I’ve driven it through rivers, down mountains. Do your worst.”

We traded seats, and I got comfortable, setting it up for my shorter frame. Maddock pointed out the controls for the blinkers and wipers, then sat back. He unwrapped his sandwich and took a healthy bite, waiting on me.

“It can take a pounding, huh?” I checked behind us then put the car in gear, getting us going. Even distracted, I couldn’t resist teasing the man at my side. “Not the only thing around here that can do that. Buckle up, pilot, I’m in control now.”

The route took us back the way we came before diverging to an even more fascinating landscape. I couldn’t help slowing to peer out at every new beautiful spot we passed. An old bridge spanned a waterfall. Dark hills drew my attention with their gloomy, compelling heights.

A gang of cyclists rode together, the lead person diverting down a track to a sweet-looking glen.

“I want to do that.” I pointed after them. “Go around here on a bike so we can just stop and meander where we choose. You are so lucky to have this on your doorstep. Every weekend, you could do a new trip, and there’s no stress to it.”

I glanced over and found him watching me, sprawled in a way that had me staring at his body. I snapped my gaze back to the road, suddenly hot. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Is it bothering ye?”

“No, but I was talking about the scenery and you’re staring at me.”

He waved a hand at the windshield. “I’ve seen all that before. Ye, sweetheart, are endlessly interesting. For example, you’re driving my car like a natural. I thought most people had automatics in the States.”

“I learned to drive in a car adapted for my mom, so it was oversized, like this one. With a gear stick, too.”

I hadn’t meant to talk about my mother, but at the same point I liked sharing with Maddock.

“Adapted how?” he asked.

“She’s in a wheelchair. The last car we had was more of a truck.”

“Can I ask why she needs a wheelchair?”

I swallowed, used to saying these words though never comfortable with the explanation. “She had a rare form of cancer. Nonhereditary. It damaged her spine. She was in her thirties, and her illness came out of the blue.”

“Sorry to hear that,” he murmured.

I squirmed and drove on. Mom’s diagnosis had crushed me. No two ways about it. Her loss of mobility was enough of a motivator for anyone to enjoy life while they could, but her loss of hope had been far worse. She’d survived, but a major part of her hadn’t.

I’d lost Mom as a friend, and we’d never regained that.

My mood dropped in line with my shitty thoughts. I had no reason to complain. None at all. I was in a beautiful place, with freedom and happiness. All the more reason to appreciate the world, not regret that which I couldn’t have.

My resolve to enjoy my vacation grew stronger.

The longer I drove, the more remote our surroundings became. Moors spread out, thick with scrubby plants, some burnished amber for autumn. A sign warned of ice on the road, though it was nowhere near cold enough yet, and we swung past another loch with a hydropower plant. Small groups of houses appeared here and there. We skirted a forest, the tall pines almost black against the dark sky.

I was in love, and total awe.

“I was thinking about what ye said. About cycling here.”

Maddock’s voice startled me.

“We used to drive places and camp as a family, or hike out on our own estate and do the same. In a heli, I’ve been all over, too. I’ve never headed out on a bike to do that. I like the idea. Just set up a tent wherever. Slow down the experience.”

“Can you do that? Just pitch a tent on a mountain somewhere?”

“Aye.”

I waggled my head. “Back home, that would get you shot.”

He remained quiet for a moment. “When do ye have to get back to Elise’s?”

My pulse picked up. “I fly home on Saturday. That’s my only deadline.”

“I leave the same day.”

“Where are you going?” He’d mentioned something about training, I recalled.

“Iceland for a month. I’ll be flying into storms and trying not to crash.”

I choked on a laugh. “God. I hope you don’t.” Then I risked a glance his way. “What are you thinking before then?”

“If we find my brother, ye don’t need to head home right away. The two of ye might want to hang out together. Try that camping idea.”

Damn. I’d hoped for a hot second that he wanted to spend more time with me, but no.

“Maybe,” I said, then I hit the gas and sped on.

The journey took us alongside wide and quiet roads. Then up ahead, something bisected our path. I leaned forward and squinted.

“Is that train lines?”

“Aye, just drive straight over them.”

“Shit. What if a train comes?”

“Don’t ye have tracks over the road where ye live?”

“Of course we do, you should see Sassafras Street in San Diego, but that scares the shit out of me too.”

Maddock laughed. “Unless the barrier comes down and lights flash, you’re good.”

A fizz of panic rose inside me. I slowed, checked about fifty times, then flew across.

“Ha!” I punched the air. “Hey, take a picture of me with my phone, will you? I want to remember this moment.”

Maddock reached out for the device, then took a shot. Then he flipped the camera, grinned, and snapped another photo, this time of his own face.

“What? This way ye get to remember me, too,” he quipped.

“Like I could forget you,” I muttered.

A couple of times throughout the drive, Maddock offered to take over the controls. I refused, as aside from my fear of accidentally putting us in the path of another car, I was enjoying myself. Likewise, he didn’t seem to mind being the passenger.

But when the road delivered us into the mountains, rounding a sparkling bay, he asked the question again.

“Pull over when ye can. We’re naw far out now, and I have the feeling you’re going to want to watch the view.”

I relented and brought the car to a halt at a passing place. A sign ahead advised that the road would become a single lane, so I didn’t mind switching seats.

Maddock rounded the hood and opened my door. He offered a hand to help me down, then kept my fingers in his as I landed on the gravel in front of him. I raised my gaze, a little blinded by the sun behind his head.

“Thank you for letting me drive your car,” I said sweetly.

Maddock didn’t reply, just watched me for a moment. I had no clue what to do with this man. Attraction rose in waves. Being in the enclosed space with him only made the sensation more acute.

I liked his smell, of faint aftershave touched with some kind of engine fuel, probably ingrained from messing around in helicopters. I liked his relaxed energy, and the way he looked at me, as if I was something special.

I dropped my gaze to his lips. We were close enough to kiss.

I didn’t mind making the first move. But I wouldn’t unless I knew for sure it was welcome. No way would I make that mistake again.

But Maddock stepped away, giving me space to move past him.

I breezed around to the passenger side and hopped in, grasping my phone on my lap. More messages had arrived while I’d been driving, but I ignored them now, all my attention for the handsome Scot at my side.

If I had one single sign from him that he wanted me, this trip was going to take a sharp turn into something far more interesting.

But for now, I was just going to let him drive.