The Reluctant Roadtripper (A Romantic Comedy)

Chapter 29

It's Nessa who is at the door, and to be honest, her appearance is actually my fault as I'd asked her to help me arrange a surprise for Owen. Yes, Mirren Shepherd, hater of all things surprising, is trying to orchestrate a surprise of her own. Miracles do happen.

"Dinner is booked for seven pm," she tells me, her gaze flicking between me and Owen in our towels. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything?" She adds, brown eyes sparkling wickedly.

Oh, of course not, just me about to ask what could possibly be the most important question of my life!

By the time Nessa leaves, it feels like the moment has passed, and my courage has nipped back inside. I guess I'll try again later. In the meantime, I need to get ready for dinner.

I brought one extra-nice dress on holiday just in case - a silky dark blue wrap dress, mid-length with a slit up one side. I've never actually had a chance to wear it before, so tonight seems like the perfect occasion to christen it. It brings the blue out in my eyes and contrasts well with the colours in my hair. I team it with turquoise sandals and bold gold jewellery, adding a jewelled clip to one side of my hair. I'm probably completely overdressed, but I'm no longer pretending that the effort isn't mostly for Owen's benefit.

And when I emerge from the bathroom after doing my make-up, the expression on his face makes it all worth it. "Do we have to go to dinner?" He asks huskily, the expression on his handsome face darkening. He scrubs a hand across his stubble, bronze gaze intense as he takes me in. "I'm suddenly hungry in a very different way. One that I doubt the restaurant would approve of."

Mission accomplished.

I laugh and walk towards him, relishing the way his eyes are tracking the movement of my hips. "We've got plenty of time for that later," I say, looping an arm around his neck and pulling him in for a teasing kiss. I want to drive him crazy tonight. "In the meantime, I actually do need to eat. Those scones feel like a long time ago now."

"Fair enough," he sighs, reluctance clear in his tone. "I guess I can try to resist you for a few more hours." He reaches for my hand, and we head towards the restaurant. I'm hoping Nessa has managed to pull this off like we discussed. We're at the mercy of the hotel staff, though.

But when I mention my name at the door, the waiter's face lights up. "Ah, your table is all ready for you. Come right this way."

"Wait - where are we going?" Owen asks in confusion as we're taken back outside and down a small dirt path.

This is a very good sign.

There's a lone table and two chairs set up down at the edge of the loch, a bottle of prosecco already waiting in an ice bucket. It's the perfect location to have dinner on a special birthday - right beside the water, in a secluded spot encircled by mountains, the June sun still high in the true blue sky.

(Here's hoping there won't be too many midges, though. They're the scourge of a Scottish summer.)

"What is this?" Owen asks, stopping short as he takes in the sight. "Did you do this?"

"I spotted this little beach when I went for that walk with Nessa earlier and thought it would be a lovely spot for dinner," I tell him, a little embarrassed now. I'm not used to making gestures like this. "She sorted it with the hotel for me. Do you like it?"

I can't quite decipher the look on his face as he presses his lips together tightly and looks out at the view. "No one has ever done anything like this for me before," he says finally, his voice cracking slightly. He looks over at me then, and his eyes are soft. "I love it, Mirren."