Sparks in Scotland (7 page)

Oh wow. I bit my lower lip and felt my cheeks start to burn. I shrugged. “Just been waiting for the right person.”

His eyes seemed to pierce right into me. “Me too, Ava.”

Chapter
Seven

T
he soft late-afternoon breezes swept
through the streets as we made our way to the park after wandering in and out of quaint local shops. Jamison had heard there was a dance troupe performing at the park tonight. We'd checked in with Steaphan first to let him know our plans, and he said he'd pick us up at nine to take us home.

Something had changed in our group dynamic in the art museum. As we'd wandered through the exhibits, Kylie had begun to relax and stopped being so uptight, and as a result, more of her natural attitude began to shine through. We'd giggled over some of the stranger exhibits on display, wondering what the artist's inspiration was. She'd even bought me a bottle of water when I'd mentioned I was thirsty.

It made me feel even guiltier about liking Graham as much as I did. The longing gazes she threw his way when he wasn't looking were almost painful to see, especially now that I was starting to enjoy her company.

“What's Ohio look like?” Jamison asked me.

Our group approached the east end of the park, and as we walked, I described Ohio's eclectic scenery—the tree-covered hills, the flat farmlands with rows of corn that stretched as far as the eye could see, the bustling big cities and quaint small towns.

“It's awesome. I've lived in the Cleveland area my whole life, and I can't imagine living anywhere else,” I explained with a smile. “There's little that can beat Ohio in the fall, when all the leaves are brilliant colors on the trees. I wish I had a picture on my phone to show you.”

“Sounds quite bonny,” Kylie said. “The Highlands are unlike anything ya've ever seen too.”

“I can't wait. The photographs are so beautiful, and the real thing has to be even better.” I sipped my water, and we found a place under a shade tree to sit and wait for the dance troupe's performance in a half hour.

Though it was already late afternoon, the sun was surprisingly warm, and I stripped off my jacket and tucked it under myself to sit on. Graham was on my right, Jamison on my left, and Kylie beside Graham.

We talked about everything and nothing as we waited. I learned that Jamison was an excellent long-distance runner with
aspirations to try out for the Olympics someday. He and Kylie had an easygoing relationship, interrupting each other and poking fun, but none of the antagonism you sometimes saw with siblings.

While we talked, Graham was quiet, just watching us all, only chiming in here or there. He seemed content to sit back and let us chatter.

“I'm dying of thirst,” Kylie proclaimed. She jumped up and dusted off her backside. “Anyone else fancy a drink?”

“I'm quite thirsty myself,” Jamison said and stood as well. “We'll go find sustenance and be back.”

“Graham, care for anything?” she asked him.

“Nah, I'm good, thanks.” He gave her a polite smile.

The two of them walked off, with Kylie shooting him a quick look over her shoulder before they crossed the street toward a shop.

A comfortable silence settled between the two of us. I stretched my hands out along the grass, and my fingers brushed against his. With an awkward laugh, I jerked away and tucked my hands in my lap.

“So, what else do ya do in yer free time?” he asked me. “Other than art and traveling to beautiful countries, that is.”

I kept my gaze on my sneakered feet so I wouldn't stare into his eyes. “Well, I like to swim laps. I practically live in our neighborhood's outdoor pool during the summer. I've learned how to knit, and I've started making the world's longest scarf. And I go to our school's meditation club—”

I heard a low chuckle and stopped talking to look at him. His right eyebrow was straight up in the air. “Meditation club?”

“Yeah, it's to help us relax after being all stressed out after a rough day at school.” I grinned. “We drink tea, talk for a ­little bit, then sit in silence and release our worries into the atmosphere.” Sometimes I was even able to convince Corinne to join me, though she was usually too busy doing homework.

“Sounds lovely.” His lips quirked, and a dimple appeared in his left cheek. “We don't have anything like that at my school. What do you worry about that requires you to meditate?”

“My grades, especially English and math. Those are my weak spots. Not to mention trying to figure out what colleges I want to start checking out, and when I should look for a job . . .” I shook off the familiar knot of tension that started to build in my stomach and nudged him with my shoulder. “And what do
you
do for fun? Other than drumming and dancing around the Highlands in a kilt, that is,” I teased.

In the middle of the grass in front of us, a few members of the dance troupe arrived, clad in green-plaid kilts, dark-green vests, and kneesocks.

Graham looked them over, then turned his attention back to me. “Well, I work with my da sometimes on repairin' cars. He has an old hot rod we've been fixin' for a coupla years now.”

“That's cool. Do you think you'll get to drive it when it's fixed?”

He paused, and his back stiffened for a second or two, and an expression flitted across his face that I couldn't quite name.
­“Probably not,” he finally said to me. “Look, Jamison and Kylie are back.”

Okay, apparently Graham didn't want to talk any more about this. Why would the car be such a big deal to him? Was he not eager to drive, or was there something else at play here?

My heart fluttered, and I forced a broad smile as the siblings took their seats once again.

“The dancers are warming up,” Jamison said to me in a low whisper. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a small red package. “I brought ya somethin'.”

I peered down at the wrapper and read the text. “Butter shortbread rounds. Are these cookies?” My stomach gave a low grumble in anticipation.

“These're
only
the best biscuits around.” His grin was wide. “Give 'em a try.”

I opened the bag and breathed in the rich scent, then took two out and handed him one. We both bit into them at the same time, and I groaned at the delicious buttery-sweet goodness. “Oh wow, you weren't kidding. This is the best cookie I've had in forever.”

“What are you two going on about?” Graham said from beside me.

I turned and thrust the bag toward him. “Would you and Kylie like a cookie? Uh, a biscuit? Jamison bought them for me. They're so good.”

A look passed between the two guys. If I didn't know better, I'd think Graham was a touch jealous. His lips were a bit thin, his smile a little too wide to seem genuine. “I've had 'em before,” he said.

Kylie had no qualms and snagged a cookie from the bag. “Thanks!”

Musicians began to arrive: a guy lugging a bagpipe wearing a kilt, a drummer, and a woman standing with them. She started some vocal exercises, and they warmed up their instruments.

Jamison, Kylie, and I finished the cookies, and I got up and tossed the bag away in a nearby garbage can. When I returned to our tree, I noticed the two guys' heads tucked together as they talked in quiet whispers. I slowed my pace during my approach; they pulled apart when they saw me, and Jamison wore a face-­splitting smirk. Graham wouldn't meet my eyes.

My stomach clenched. What had happened? I'd obviously missed something. Too bad I wasn't good friends with Kylie, or else I'd ask her what they'd talked about while I was gone. But I didn't want to rock the boat and bring up my curiosity over ­Graham. Not when we were starting to get along so well.

I plopped down between them and tried to pretend like I didn't care what was happening. It was obvious they'd been talking about me, but neither was going to act like it. Okay then. I stretched my legs out in front of me and smiled, watching the dancers warm up, the singer do her mouth exercises. I was totally not going to pay any attention to how close Graham was, or why he didn't seem to want to look at me now.

It didn't matter in the least.

The embarrassed sting in my heart told me otherwise.

The dancers started, and people clapped as they stomped and
kicked and whirled. After a while, I found myself getting caught up in the beauty of their movements. The music was simple but heartfelt, and the girls were pouring their emotions and energy into their dance. I wanted to learn how to do it—maybe when I got home I could find a place giving lessons.

“Gorgeous, isn't it?” Graham whispered right in my ear.

The caress of his breath on my skin made me shiver, but I kept my composure and didn't give my reaction away. “Very.” It was evident how hard they practiced; they were perfectly in sync with one another as they whirled around and changed positions.

I grabbed my camera from my bag and snapped a few action shots. With the setting sun glinting in the dancers' hair, making their skin glow, the pictures came out better than I'd hoped they would.

As the crowd clapped to the rhythm, we joined in, and soon the whole area surrounding the dancers was filled with clapping and cheering. I whistled loudly.

All too soon they stopped, and the park roared with applause and cheers. The dancers were flushed and sweating, their hair plastered to their brows, but the lightness in their eyes and their wide smiles showed their pleasure. I took a few more shots and then some of the crowd.

Graham grabbed his phone and checked the time. “My da will pick us up in a half hour.” His voice sounded a little flat, and as I put my camera away, I struggled to find the right words to ask
him what was going on. I didn't want to pry, but it was obvious he wasn't his usual self.

Kylie bounded out of her seat and ran over to talk to the dancers, and Jamison took off with her. I saw him smooth a hand over his dark hair and straighten his posture, and I bit back a chuckle. The guy was a total flirt.

“You okay?” I finally asked Graham. “You seem a bit . . . off. Or maybe it's just me. After all, it's not like I know you that well or anything, and I could be wrong.”
Oh God, someone make me stop blabbing on.
I bit my lower lip and looked away.

He sighed. “It's not just you. Sorry. Lot on my mind this ­evenin'.”

“Anything I can help with?” I turned to face him.

He stared at me for a long moment, and that crackle of tension lit between us. “Not really, but I appreciate ya askin'. Quite kind of ya.” The smile he gave me this time was genuine, and he leaned a bit closer to me. “Have a good time today?”

“A great time,” I gushed. “It's been awesome. Actually, everything has been fun so far. Edinburgh, Stirling, Glasgow . . . I can't wait for what's next.” And yet, the next phase of our vacation, starting tomorrow, took me away from Graham for the remainder of my trip. My throat tightened with unexpected emotion.

Graham's brow knitted as he studied my face. “Hmm, ya don't seem so thrilled, though.”

How honest should I be right now? Should I tell him the truth—that I couldn't get him off my mind? He'd probably think
I was insane. After all, I was a vacationing tourist. He was a gorgeous local boy. There wasn't anywhere we could go from here.

And yet . . . I wanted it to, because he made me feel a way I'd never felt before. This wasn't just a shallow crush. Graham had depths I wanted to explore, and he made me think, made me laugh. Maybe he'd write to me when I got home, and we could start from there. Even just as friends. Relationships started with friendship all the time. And with the Internet, the world was smaller than ever.

I swallowed past the tightness in my throat and admitted, “I am thrilled for the most part. But I've had a lot of fun with you, and we're leaving on our bus tour tomorrow. So . . .” My face burned hot, and it was hard to keep looking into those intense eyes. I cleared my throat. “Um, I don't know, I was hoping maybe we could keep talking somehow, because I've really enjoyed our conversations.”

The tension in his body relaxed in an instant, and the smile he shot me was so charming the air locked in my lungs. Graham gave a soft, warm laugh, and that dimple popped out again. His teeth flashed in the setting sun. “I don't think that's going to be a problem, Ava.”

I blinked in surprise. “Okay . . . ?”

“My da's running yer bus tour,” he explained, and his grin grew wider. “I'll be accompanyin' ya through the Highlands, ya see.”

“Oh,” I breathed, and a warm flush settled over my skin.

“We'll be seeing a lot more of each other.” His eyes danced in amusement. “I hope that's okay.”

Okay? It was more than okay. It was the best thing I could have hoped for. On the inside, I was jumping up and down. But I kept my cool for the most part, even though I couldn't fight the grin on my face. “It'll be fun.”

Another week with Graham? It felt like a birthday present. The chance to delve into Scotland's most epic locales with the guy I was crushing on. Not to mention the look in his eyes, the way he was leaning toward me, giving me heavy hints this crush wasn't one-sided. It was real, and with more time to develop, who knew what could happen?