Pepper, the Highlander & the Dead Guy
His remark turned me speechless, a rare thing, and I realized, to my shock, that I actually liked this guy.
We had barely pulled out on the road when Ian said, “Would you mind if we went to a different restaurant than you suggested. I heard about a great Italian place that recently opened and I love Italian food.”
Another thing we had in common. “I love Italian. Don’t like Thai or fish.”
“Good to know for the next time.”
He was already planning to see me again? It made no difference since by the time our date— non-date—was done he probably wouldn’t want to see me again.
I reached for my cell in my pocket and panicked. I’d forgotten to grab it from the jacket I had planned on wearing. I couldn’t text my dad and I certainly didn’t want to ask Ian to borrow his phone only to have him learn that I was texting my dad.
“Something wrong?”
He was perceptive. “Forgot my phone.”
“You can borrow mine if you want.”
“No, it can wait,” I said, not putting it past my dad to send someone to check on me in the restaurant I’d told him we’d be at, the perils of having a sheriff for a father.
Ian was good at keeping a conversation going, nothing intrusive, until we reached the restaurant. I found myself relaxed around him, a surprise to me, but as soon as we entered the restaurant, I found what it felt like being with a to-die-for cover model. The hostess drooled over him, and the waiter never bothered to look my way and most of the women and several men in the restaurant couldn’t keep their eyes off him.
“Can you go anywhere without anyone staring at you?” I asked in a whisper across the table.
“I’ve learned to ignore it,” he said, “or else I wouldn’t go anywhere. Besides, I only have eyes for you tonight.” He turned that teasing smile of his on me and winked.
“You know that kind of charming stuff doesn’t work on me, right?”
“I am aware of it, and I must say I like that, as well as you.”
“What do you like about me?” I challenged since he barely knew me.
He leaned across the table and reached for my hand, and I didn’t stop him from slipping his around mine.
“I like that you’re straight forward with me. That you have a curious nature. That you like to take a wander in the woods and most importantly, you like Italian food.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “I will admit that’s a plus for me as well… that you like Italian food. You like walking in the woods or a wander?” Checking to see if wander and walk meant the same to him.
“Wander or walk it’s all the same. I do like walking in the woods. In Scotland, I wander the hills near my home. It always helps to clear my head and refresh my spirit. You need to show me the best paths here in the woods to walk.”
“I make my own path,” I said.
“A lass after my own heart. Tell me more about yourself, Pep.”
I’d given up on telling him not to call me that. Besides, I liked the way it sounded with his Scottish brogue. “You mean you didn’t Google me?”
He laughed. “Did you Google me?”
“I didn’t have to. Amy knows everything there is to know about you and was only too happy to share. You’re twenty-nine years old, one year older than me. You are the oldest child of Eugenia and Philip Macgregor, your father being a descendant of the mighty Clan Macgregor. You have a sister, Esi, five years younger than you. You grew up in a manor house in Loch Lomond adjacent to The Trossachs National Park and attended the prestigious University of Edinburgh with a major in Arts. You posed for a photo shoot for a friend and your career was born. You rose to stardom quickly as a model for romance novels and have also modeled for various ads. With the onset of indie books, you started your own business so authors could buy images in all categories of romance novels directly from you or request an original. You’ve never been married, and long-term relationships don’t seem to be your thing. According to your bio on your website, you love dogs and cats, animals in general. I would wonder if that was true, but I saw how you were with Mo and Roxie tonight. Now tell me what the tabloids don’t know.”
“So, you did Google me.”
“After Amy told me all about you, she went to your website and read your bio to me. And what about you? Did you Google me?”
“To be truthful, I Googled you before I ever met you.”
My fork stopped halfway to my mouth and the creamy bagna cauda on one of the crispy artichoke hearts we were sharing for an appetizer dripped onto my white blouse.