Highland Fling - A Funny Chick Lit Romance (COMPLETE)

Pluck Him From Her Grasp...

 A week later, the village transforms in front of us. Lochalshie's villagers have focused their efforts on wishing for sunshine or at least a dry day. Whatever they did, and I suspect it meant a deal with the Devil, it has worked and the day of the Highland Games dawns bright and sunny.

We are up almost before the sun rises as there is so much to do. Katya comes with me to meet Dexter, desperate to clap eyes on the man she's done so much writing for. Or rather, wrote the first article, changed it, rewrote it, revised it once more and then returned to her original version, which he finally declared himself happy with. "I want to meet this idiot," she mutters darkly, "so I can see what a fool looks like. And persuade you not to give his offer any head room. I'm here to save you from yourself." Katya is still not convinced I am not giving serious consideration to Ryan's offer either.

Already, the village is filling up. When we open the gate to Kirsty's house, cars are queued up the whole road heading for the car park, and the Games don't start for another four hours. Jamal waves at us both from across the street where he is busy putting out baskets with sun hats and rain ponchos (one must cover all the bases in Scotland). The Blissful Beauty team have given him an end of aisle make-up display, especially for the occasion. As he'd read up on how much Boots charges for end of aisle displays, Jamal named a fat fee when the company approached. He gives us a cheery grin, no doubt expecting a flood of customers. The streets are packed too. Katya and I have to dodge around hundreds of young women, all peering at their phones and talking about where will be the best place to park themselves when Caitlin makes her appearance. Stewart stands at the shores of the loch and yells at Scottie who has managed to tangle himself up around the legs of one woman.

"OMG!" Another of them exclaims, stopping dead in front of Katya and I. "That's Jamie Fraser! Luce, let's get a selfie with him!"

My head jerks instinctively in the direction they run off. "The famous Jack!" Katya says, following their progress too. I haven't seen him since the car park incident last week though my mind has filled in plenty of torturous imaginations since. Be still my heart, I mutter to myself to no avail. It throbs double-time, taken aback by how glorious he looks today. Katya lets out a low whistle I hope he doesn't hear. Today, as he will be manning a stall advertising the Outlander tours, Jack has dressed the part in an authentic eighteenth century kilt. They are drab compared to the bright greens, reds and golds you see in modern tartan, but the simplicity of it highlights his beauty I decide. Brown tones drive the eyes upward and show off the gold glints of his hair. You focus on his face and its exquisite, sharp planes and those big brown eyes. And the knees are on show, the bit of his body I'm weirdly obsessed with. We watch as Luce and her friend screech to a halt in front of him.

"Can we get a picture with you?" the first one asks, and he rolls his eyes and agrees. Over the tops of their heads, he catches my eye and shakes his head. I guess he knew this was bound to happen today, but it doesn't mean he's comfortable with it. A second later and he smiles at the phone the girls hold up. Katya clutches my arm. "Dear heaven," she breathes. "He's lethal."

I wave at him as we pass, mouthing the words 'good luck!', both for the Highland Games when he will contest caber toss and for the tours. Since I explained to him his failure to publish the site, it's now live and the bookings have flooded in. Today will be the icing on the cake. Thousands of people will walk past a stall manned by someone who looks almost exactly like Sam Heughan (or his younger brother as Jack keeps reminding me) promising them tours of places mentioned in the books or that turn up in the TV series. Success guaranteed. He doesn't need my good luck, but I pass it on anyway and hope it makes him think of me fondly.

Dexter has taken up residence in the Lochside Welcome where the launch is to take place—sort of. Dexter's Glaswegian experience had convinced him of the wisdom of not putting your trust in the British weather. So, he booked the hotel and decided Caitlin could officially open the games. That way if the skies opened on the day, she had somewhere dry for the real launch to take place. The hotel is unrecognisable. Blissful Beauty's branding people arrived last night and littered it with the company's colours and logos. They have replaced the sign with a Blissful Beauty one, and a long pink and silver carpet stretches out the front. Holographs project Caitlin's face and the Blissful Beauty logo on the walls of the hotel. Inside, it's organised chaos. Ashley stands at the stairs, a glazed look on his face as people bustle about him, lugging furniture and boxes. The public bar is unrecognisable. Every optic offers pink gin to match Blissful Beauty's company colours, and pop-ups and decals decorate the whole area. They've even changed the lighting, pink bulbs sending out a soft glow. Dexter standing in the middle of the room, armed with a clipboard. He signals us over and I introduce Katya.