He’d changed as well, into a shirt that cost more than my car, and slacks that I wanted to run my fingers over. A leather jacket was thrown over the seat behind him.
Now we were sitting in opposite seats, two dollars on the table between us, and I was trying not to crack a smile as we tried to out-stare each other. The dress was hiked up so I could cross my legs, and I had my whisky balanced on my knee. Forge was doing his king-of-everything-I-survey pose, looking for all the world like an actual king.
The plane took that moment to hit turbulence, and I blinked.
“Hah,” Forge said, surging forward triumphantly. “You lost.”
He shot out his hand and collected my dollar as we hit another pocket of turbulence. The plane dropped like a stone, my stomach along with it, my whisky hitting the floor just a second before I did. My fingers splayed out on the floor as the plane was caught in a freefall. I didn’t look up until we leveled out.
“Selena,” Forge said, his face inches from mine. “You’re perfectly safe. It’s just a bit of weather.”
I couldn’t stop shaking. I couldn’t even think, I was so rattled. He carefully lifted me up, then set me back into the seat, shifting until he was beside me. He wasn’t exactly warm, but he was comforting, and when his arms went around me, I shivered for an entirely different reason.
“I didn’t know you were afraid of flying,” he whispered into my hair. “I’m sorry.”
“I always think I’ll get better at it,” I muttered miserably. “But then I get on a plane and I wish I hadn’t. I really thought this would be different.”
I went to pull away, but he wrapped his arms around me tighter. I finally gave up and sank against his chest. Nestled into him, I could almost forget we were in a tin can hurtling through the air. Soon enough, my stomach settled and my nerves evened out. Not that he’d save me from a crash, but damn, there was something about being held in Forge’s arms that made me feel safe.
“We’re only about an hour out. Which means we have important details to decide on. Like what you want to do first? Edinburgh is a big city, and unfortunately, we won’t have a lot of time.”
“Don’t you… Shouldn’t we get ready for tonight?” I asked him. “There’s an awful lot riding on us being prepared.” Suddenly I didn’t feel at all prepared, not if I could be shaken up by a little turbulence. I looked at him, chewing my lip before I reminded myself to stop.
“We are ready, and tonight is a long way away. Which distillery do you want to visit first?”
My heart raced. “We won’t have time to go to Hadrian’s in Stirling, obviously. But could we possibly squeeze in Cameron?” Hadrian’s operation extended into the States and gave us a run for our money, but Cameron whisky was a small, private distillery, only producing a few thousand bottles a year. It was my very favorite, and I wanted to get a glimpse of their stills.
Forge actually cracked a cocky smile and strode to the door to the cockpit. Like he was telling a cab driver to drop him at the curb, he told the pilot, “Change of plans. File a new flight plan for Stirling, then another one for Perth.
“Now you don’t have to choose,” he told me, once again gathering me against him, as if we’d done this a hundred times. With his other hand, he sent a series of texts, then tucked his phone back in his pocket. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but landing in Stirling wrapped up in Forge’s arms was not it.
Nor was I prepared when he handed me a long, warm coat, something I’d not thought to bring.
I threw it on and followed him down to the bottom of the stairs, where he turned and offered me his hand to guide me the last few steps. A car was waiting, and I ducked under his arm as he held the door open, sliding in beside me.
“Welcome back, Mr. Forge,” the driver said, giving us both an enthusiastic nod in the rearview. “Good of you to visit us again in Stirling.” I had to use considerable brainpower to unravel the words from the accent, but Forge was way ahead of me.
“Good to be here, Bobby. I hope Seamus knows how much I appreciate this, especially on short notice.” Forge settled himself so his thigh lay the full length of mine. I didn’t move away.
“He’s waiting for you in the main cask house. I believe he’s tapping a special barrel, just for you.”
“Ach, I appreciate it, Bobby,” Forge murmured, then squeezed my knee.
It didn’t take long before Forge’s accent grew almost as thick as the driver’s. He was practically speaking Gaelic by the time we pulled up in front of an imposing stone building with Hadrian’s Distillery emblazoned on the front, the cobbled street in front of it just adding to the charm.
I’d spent the entire ride glued to the window, watching little towns and craggy mountains fly by as we maneuvered through the narrow roads. Forge and Bobby never stopped going back and forth, sounding more like old friends than driver and fare.
Forge got out first, thoroughly scrutinizing the building, then the street, before offering me his hand. Sliding mine into his, it felt natural, as if we’d been doing this forever. Not for the first time I wondered why, exactly, I was more comfortable with a vampire than someone of my own species.
“Bastian.” The owner—I assumed it was the owner—pulled Forge into a bear hug, and while they spoke quietly, I looked around the inside of
