I bit my lip, everything else in the whole world disappearing but Jake and the sensations swelling through me. I arched my hips into his touch.

“Do you remember that night in my truck?” his voice rasped in my ear. “Halloween. I do. I remember every second. I’d never been so turned on in my life.”

“I remember,” I whimpered as I grew wet from the memories and his touch.

“Do you remember the first time I went down on you?”

“Uh-huh…” I pushed into his hand, seeking more.

“Do you remember the first time you sucked me off?”

“Mmm.”

“Do you remember how hard you made me come?”

“Yes, yes, yes…” My whole body tensed and soon I was climaxing in jerky shudders around the fingers he’d slipped inside me.

As I came back to earth, Jake zipped my jeans.

Melted against the blanket, I stared into his gorgeous face in a daze. “What was that for?”

“That,” he smirked, “was punishment for taking your sweet time telling me you loved me.”

“Um… I hate to tell you this but that kind of punishment isn’t going to deter me from pissing you off in the future.”

Jake laughed. “I didn’t think it would. Lucky for me, I get off on the punishment.”

“You’re hard,” I said, feeling him against my hip.

His eyes darkened. “As a rock.”

“It’s your fault for talking dirty and getting me off in a public place.”

“So I take it that means you’re not going to take care of me?”

My eyes widened at the suggestion. “I am not doing that on Arthur’s Seat. You can wait until later.”

Jake brushed his lips over mine. “You’re a cruel wench.”

Chuckling, I pushed him off me, pressing his back to the ground. “Down, boy.” I laid back. “No more sexy stuff right now.”

“Okay. I’ll be good.” He put his hands behind his head and stared at the sky. A few moments later, he said, “You’re something special to me, Charley Redford.”

I felt a flutter in my chest as I remembered him saying that to me on our first date. “You’re something special to me too.”

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t let anyone else put their hands down my jeans on top of a hill in Scotland, you know.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I do like to be original.”

I giggled. “You are certainly that.”

“The pressure is now on, though, to feel you up when you least expect it.”

“I can deal with that kind of pressure.”

“You say that now, but wait until I give you an orgasm in the camping section of a department store.”

“You just ruined that location. Now I’m expecting an orgasm in the camping section of a department store. You took the spontaneity out of it.”

Jake tsked. “I’ll just need to come up with somewhere—”

“Sexier?” I suggested.

“What is not sexy about a tent in a department store?” he huffed. “Who have you been dating and what has he been teaching you?”

“Just some guy who was all romance and picnics.”

“He sounds like a tool.”

“Meh, he had his moments. We did have some pretty amazing sex in his pickup, though.”

“Ah, well,” Jake turned his head to smile at me, “that I can do.”

As his meaning sank in, I felt a rush of giddiness. “You still have Hendrix?”

He nodded. “I stopped driving it… well… because it reminded me of you, but my dad kept it in his garage.”

I turned on my side, even more excited about going back to the States now. “The first thing we’re doing when we get to Chicago is taking your truck out, finding a secluded park somewhere, and rechristening that baby.”

Jake grinned. “Have I told you I love how your mind works?”

“We should probably have dinner with your folks first, though, huh.”

“And then you ruined it.” He rolled his eyes in mock disgust.

Smiling, I leaned in close. “But you love me.”

He made a face. “Who told you that?”

“Some tool I know.”

Jake laughed. “You know a lot of tools.”

“Nah.” I shook my head. “Just the one.”

Smiling into my eyes, Jake sighed, seeming more happy and relaxed than I’d seen him in a long time. “I’m looking forward to going home, but I’m also not.”

“How do you mean?”

“We’ve got the summer and then we’re back to school in different states.”

I slumped at the thought but said, “We’re only three hours away.”

“That’s long enough to kill me,” he muttered, brushing the back of his hand affectionately across my cheek.

“It’s just one year,” I promised him. “And we’ll make the most of it. I’ll come see you one weekend, you come see me the next. We’ll make it work.”

“You’re right.” He pulled me into his arms so I was snuggled against him, my head on his chest. “But for now, let’s just enjoy this. I thought I was happy when you decided to give me a second shot… but nothing compares to this.”

“What? Talking nonsense and eating peanut butter?” I teased.

“Exactly.” He kissed the top of my head. “We’re Jake and Charley again. Older but no less immature.”

I giggled and burrowed deeper against him. “Isn’t it awesome.”

11

West Labayelle, November 2013

Edinburgh was laid out before me. As I looked out over the cityscape from my perch on Arthur’s Seat, hugging my arms around myself against the bracing wind, I felt content. At peace.

The air was so crisp here, fresh, alive in a way I couldn’t explain. I’d never felt more awake.

“Do you miss it?”

Startled, I looked over my shoulder to see Jake walking toward me. “Miss it?” I asked as he came to a stop and took my hand.

He was so warm.

“This.” He nodded to the view. “And this?” He tugged on my hand.

I smiled, confused. “How can I miss it? It’s right here. You’re right here.”

Jake looked at me with his soulful eyes, his countenance too grim for such a beautiful day, such a beautiful moment. “Am I?”

The sadness in him caused me alarm. “What are you talking about?”

He leaned into me. “Open your eyes, Charley.”

“They—”

“For God’s sake, open your eyes!” he yelled and I flinched, closing them instead against his attack.

When I opened them, he was gone.

Edinburgh was gone.

I stumbled, discombobulated. My eyes swept my surroundings, taking in the trees, all the green, and all… the gravestones. I tripped over one, leaning on it to right myself.

The name engraved on the gray stone froze me to the spot.

Andrea Delia Redford.

“No,” I whispered, falling to my knees, my hands rubbing over the letters as if I could make them go away.

“You can’t.”

My head jerked up and I looked at my mother, standing over me. “Mom?” I licked the tears from my lips.

“You can’t make it go away.”

I shook my head. “No. This isn’t real.”

Mom cocked her head in thought and then pointed down the rows of the gravestones. Tears glistened in her eyes. “It feels real.”

I followed her gaze.

A black gravestone with the engraving Charlotte Julianne Redford.

My lips felt numb. “It’s not real.”

The air shifted around me and Mom lowered herself beside me. She had flowers in her hand. She put a few on Andie’s grave and then a few on the one next to it. My eyes flew to the headstone.

Sophia Roberta Brown.

“Grandma?”

Mom nodded. “She understands me.”

“I don’t… I’m so confused.”

Misunderstanding me, Mom gave me a sympathetic smile. “We couldn’t lay you to rest together, sweetie. You and Andie. Not after everything. It would be hypocritical.”

“What?” I gasped. “We’re not dead! We’re not dead!”

Her face clouded over. “I’m sick of this. You have to face up to your mistakes.” She frowned. “What is that noise?”

What noise?

“Do you hear it?” She stood and stamped her foot. “This is a cemetery! What is with that incessant noise?”

“Mom?” I watched her stride away. “Mom?”

I stopped. I could hear it too now. I whirled around, looking for the source. Was that Bastille?