me if you want one to pick apart and study.”
They exchanged mobile numbers and arranged a meeting for the next afternoon at the Dapper Highlander. With Anna’s lost page tucked into his pocket, Iain stepped lightly to the old tartan truck. If he wasn’t rubbish at dancing, he might even do a little jig.
Anna might not have welcomed him with open arms, but Highland seemed to have embraced him. He wasn’t sure if he had the skill to win her over, but he was determined to try.
Chapter Six
Anna stomped up the rickety metal stairs to her apartment above the dance studio, slipped inside, and threw the double bolt behind her as if she had anything to worry about in Highland. The door was narrow, short, and like Goldilocks, exactly right for her. The apartment itself wasn’t as great a fit. A realtor would call it cozy; cramped was more accurate.
Her mom’s sudden decision to sell her childhood home and move to Florida had left Anna floundering for a place to live. While she could have rented an apartment in one of the new developments outside of town, she didn’t want to waste the money. Most of the time, she didn’t regret her choice.
Most of the time. Now was not that time. She flipped on the inadequate window AC unit. It would freeze up before it got the apartment cooled, but roasting at eighty was better than roasting at a hundred.
Anna stripped off her shorts and T-shirt and went to the fridge in her bra and panties for a glass of ice water. She needed to cool down in more ways than one after her confrontation with Iain.
He’d actually asked her if she’d been disappointed he wasn’t wearing a kilt so she could get a peek. Of all the outrageous suggestions. Of course, she’d said no. Hopefully, emphatically enough to drown out the yes her body had chanted like a pagan. What was wrong with her? Her first reaction had been to pout at the sight of his legs encased in well-worn denim.
She threw herself back on her couch and tried not to move until the room had cooled enough so that lifting her cell phone to her ear didn’t cause a sweat to break out. Fifteen minutes passed.
Fifteen minutes she should have been using to mentally tick through her checklist of items to get done. Instead, she used the time to imagine Iain in progressively less pieces of clothing.
Anna rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes as if that would grind the inappropriate fantasies to dust. What did he wear under his kilt? The question was becoming her obsession.
Her phone dinged with an incoming text. She read it and groaned. The Bluegrass Jacobites, a local Celtic band, were putting on an exhibition at the Dancing Jig pub during the week leading up to the festival and had asked her to dance to a handful of songs. Practice was scheduled for that evening at the studio.
She would never have agreed if Robert wasn’t the de facto leader. In school, he’d been the unpopular, but brilliant nerd. She’d been the cheerleader who was failing math. He’d tutored her to a B, and if it had been a typical teen movie, they would have fallen in love and lived happily ever after. Instead, she’d been the first person he’d confessed his homosexuality to, and she had made sure none of the jocks or jerks had bullied him when he finally came out to the world their senior year.
Normally, she would enjoy dancing with the band. Even though she spent her days in the dance studio, teaching wasn’t the same as doing, and she missed the high of performing in front of a crowd. At the moment, though, it was just another commitment to add to her overflowing bucket.
It was more important than ever that she get some items ticked off her to-do list. She riffled through the papers in her folder for the list of vendors to contact. Nothing. She went through each paper more carefully, but the most important sheet hadn’t miraculously appeared.
Had she even had it to begin with? Yes, she remembered staring at the phone numbers as Iain had walked over with his tea. She’d been in such a hurry to escape Iain’s magnetic presence, she’d probably dropped it.
Best case scenario, some Good Samaritan had turned it in and she could trot down to the Brown Cow and collect it. Worst case scenario, she would be forced to