Lost in Scotland

by Hilaria Alexander

  “Wait…first off, what’s with the treasure map?” I asked him as I pulled out the paper. He just looked at me, a tight-lipped smile in place. “Which reminds me, here’s your key.” I handed it over to him.

  “It’s yours,” he answered, biting his bottom lip, almost as if he were trying to fight back a smile.

  “Huh? What do you mean?” I frowned and let out a breath, more out of frustration than anything else. The tiredness from my trip was catching up with me all of a sudden and I was confused…about everything.

  He handed me an envelope. What is up with him?

  “Boy, you’re all mystery and mischief today. First the map and the key, now this. I feel like I’m a contestant on The Amazing Race. Where to next?” I asked rhetorically as I gave him a pointed look. He said nothing, just kept smiling, the corners of his lips curling in the most delicious way. I wanted to kiss him right there.

  “Just open the envelope, Sam.”

  “Okay, okay.” This envelope was much thicker than the other one, and as I opened it, I pulled out several papers that were folded together.

  My eyes scanned through it—it was a bill of sale, transferring the property, this property, to me…and Hugh. It wasn’t signed and thereby not fully executed, but it was an official document. My mouth went dry, and my heart started drumming inside my chest so loudly, I felt it in my ears. I swallowed, and then I looked up at him with a certain curiosity, as if it were the first time I’d seen him up close.

  I let out a fast breath, and then the words came rushing out of my mouth, unable to contain them any longer.

  “You bought me a house?”

  “It’s merely a cottage,” he said with an irresistible smile and a shrug of his shoulders.

  I shook my head and narrowed my eyes. “Don’t you dare belittle my house.”

  “You like it?”

  I gave him a coy look. “You know I don’t just like it. I love it,” I replied, and the smile on his face got even bigger, his blue eyes glistening with delight.

  “You’ll have to share it. You’re not the only owner.”

  “I know,” I whispered, trying to fight back a smile, euphoria taking over my entire body. I tried to press my lips into a line to avoid grinning, but I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to let him know just how much I loved it; I was simply afraid I was going to make a big fool out of myself.

  “Are we going to stay here this year?” I asked him. Now that I wasn’t as distracted as I had been earlier, I noticed a few things as I looked around. It was hardly the same cottage we’d stayed at the year before. The walls had been painted, and the floors had been refinished.

  “This year…next year,” he said evasively, looking at me, his eyes playful.

  I frowned, fighting to keep my attention on him now that I was distracted by the place. He had redone the whole place. When? How? How long had he been planning this? The drumming in my chest didn’t stop. Suddenly, he took my hand and guided me to the kitchen, which was no longer the charming but outdated one we had seen the last time. This kitchen had brand-spanking-new white cabinets with state of the art appliances and a luxurious blue Viking stove that took my breath away. It was too much. The floor in the kitchen had been redone with stone and connected the kitchen to the side door, which was now the door of the mudroom. I couldn’t wait to see the rest of the place, but I was sure of one thing already: I loved it, and I loved the man who had orchestrated all of it.

  “I love you,” I told him, my eyes filled with wonder.

  “You love me or the cottage?” he asked with a smirk.

  “Both. Equally,” I said in a serious, dazed tone, and he laughed.

  He took my hand and led me to the staircase.

  “After you,” he said. I started climbing the stairs, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I was surprised, amazed…confused. When had he set all this in motion? Fixing up the cottage had to take months. I stopped on the last step and turned around.

  “When? When did you start the renovations?”

  He leaned against the wall and relaxed. He broke eye contact for a moment, staring into space. His lips pressed in a tight line.

  “Soon after you left Scotland.” He let out a sigh, and that combined with the expression on his face hurt like a blade slicing my skin. I hadn’t realized how sad he’d been when we were apart. “I always thought things would eventually get back to how they were. Somehow, I knew you belonged here with me,” he said quietly, but then his eyes widened as if he’d suddenly said too much. He guided us to an empty room I assumed was the master bedroom, although the floor plan on the upper floor was drastically different from how I remembered it.

  The old floor plan had had one bedroom on each side of the cottage, each with a different view. On our first visit, I had joked that it would have been hard to choose between the heather flowers on one side and the sea on the other.

  The new room featured both views: purple blooms on one side, blue waves on the other. I looked up to him, and I tried to open my mouth to say something, anything, but I was speechless.

  “Now you’ll never have to choose,” he said in a low voice. He smiled, his lips pulled up on one side, carefully studying my reaction.

  “You… I-I can’t believe this.” I was hardly making sense. I felt heady, unable to put together all the things I wanted to tell him. I felt overwhelmed, in a good way.

  I couldn’t contain the rush of excitement spreading through my body. So many different emotions erupted inside me, warming my chest, making me smile like a child staring at Fourth of July fireworks. The feelings that bubbled up inside me came out with a deep breath. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I loved him, and he needed to know how much. He was everything.

  Finally, I felt confident enough to say what I was thinking, but just then, his lips parted and he said, “I’m glad you like the house, but it comes with another condition.”

  “Be my husband,” I blurted out at the same time, taking one of his hands between mine.

  A smile stretched across his face, reaching his eyes, so luminous and bright on this exceptionally sunny day.

  Hugh

  “Be my husband,” she said again, with even more conviction this time. “I know this is not how it’s supposed to happen, but it’s the only thing that makes sense to me right now. I love you.” Her eyes were glossy, filled with tears, searching mine for an answer. It was hard not to smile, even though things had taken an unexpected turn.

  “You stole my line,” I told her.

  Realization set in her eyes, and she suddenly looked elated and astoundingly happy. She bit her bottom lip, fighting a smile. “I stole your line? What do you mean?”

  “This, Sam.” I took the velvety box out of my pocket and placed it in her hand. I pursed my lips together, waiting for her reaction. I had been ready to give it to her since she’d walked through the door, but I had wanted to show her everything else, and now, somehow, she’d managed to beat me to it.

  “This? This was in your pocket the entire time? And I thought you were just happy to see me,” she joked, accompanying her words with a disappointed sigh, but then smiled at me. Such an actress, I thought, shaking my head. She stared at the box in the palm of her hand with the utmost curiosity but didn’t open it, as if it were an abstract object.

  “Okay, knock it off, funny girl,” I joked. “Open the box.”

  Her gaze darted between me and the box, and with a sharp intake of breath, she lifted the lid. “Oh my gosh,” she said with a sigh. “Hugh, it’s beautiful.”

  “It’s been in my family for more than a hundred years. My great-grandma had it first. My mother wore it last.” The floral diamond cluster ring had been passed down in my family. I had seen pictures of my great-grandma and grandma wearing it, and I had distinct memories of my mum wearing it when I was a kid.

  “I’ve wanted to give you this for a while,” I said, taking the ring out of the box.

  “A while?” she asked, c
onfused. I knelt in front of her, and her eyes widened as her lips parted, accentuating the surprise on her face. I took her hand in mine, and as I locked eyes with her, I attempted to do this right.

  Hopefully, I wouldn’t mess up my lines.

  “Samhain, I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you. I craved your friendship and your love before you were even mine. I fell for you so fast. I didn’t even think it was possible to fall in love like this. I never want anything to keep us apart ever again. I love you, and I want to love you until the end of my days. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Sam

  His accent was thick on the last sentence, and it drove me insane. We had been apart for weeks, and I was aching for him. His words had my head swimming in a sea of feelings and I felt light, as if I were levitating on a cloud of cotton candy.

  Prior to that day, I hadn’t thought I could love him more than I did, but I had been wrong. There were not enough words for how amazing he was, for how precious he was to me.

  “Hugh MacLeod, you’re everything to me. You know that, right? The world might know you because you’re gorgeous and good at what you do, but you are so much more,” I said with a sigh, briefly glancing around the place, taking in what he’d done—what he’d done for me. His eyes were fixed on my face, and he looked up with a certain impatience. “You’re smart and funny. You’re beautiful and have a heart of gold. You’re the only one I would ever want to spend a lifetime with. I would be honored to become your wife.”

  He slid the ring on my finger, kissing it. Then, he proceeded to kiss each one of my fingers, and when he got up, he crushed his lips on mine. I welcomed him, eager. When I had arrived in Scotland the previous year, I’d had no idea what my future would look like. Now, I knew there would be some days of constant rain and dreadful cold. I knew there would be days when my life looked like one big, endless storm, but I also knew I’d have the sunny days and then some. I knew that with Hugh by my side, the future was looking bright.

  A little over two years ago, I was writing my very first romance novel when I fell in love with a certain TV show: the cinematography was spectacular, the characters compelling and the acting superb (don’t even get me started on the scripts, costumes and set …I could go on). Scotland looked stunning, even just from a TV screen, and I was…smitten. As my love for Outlander grew, I wanted to write a story that took place in Scotland. Being the inexperienced writer that I was, I told myself I could start writing that story once I’d finish Prude. Now, here I am, more than two years and four books later. So now you know I’ve wanted to write Lost in Scotland for a long time, and I hope you love Sam and Hugh as much as I do. Lost in Scotland encapsulates my love for movies, TV shows, traveling, my fascination with gossip in modern society and Outlander. I don’t think I would have been even remotely inspired to write this book if I hadn’t stumbled across Diana Gabaldon’s series, so my humblest thank you goes to Herself for creating the ultimate book hero, responsible for making generations upon generations of women swoon.

  And now, I must thank those who help me grow each day as a person and a writer. I have a lot of people to thank for their love and encouragement.

  Thanks to Emily, for loving this story when it was just a bunch of scenes all over the place. Thanks to Mae Wood, for loving this Scottish romance when it was still super dirty pre-edits.

  Thank you, Katie Pettigrew, for accidentally providing me with the inspiration for the ultimate romance epilogue.

  To Caitlin with Editing by C. Marie: thank you for making my words better. You're THE BEST. I love working with you.

  Samantha with Samantha Leigh Design: thank you for working SO HARD on this cover. You know I LOVE IT. It's just what I wanted.

  Julie Deaton: thank you so much for your proofreading on Lost in Scotland. I love reading your notes!

  Thanks to Alexandria with AB Formatting for her excellent work.

  Marla Selkow Esposito, thank you for being so sweet and giving me peace of mind with another read-through. Thanks to my darling E.S. Carter, for making sure Cecilia spoke like a true Brit. Thank you to my betas: Shawn Garcia, Dina Pisotti Maio, Amanda Lee, Lora Jarvis, Megan Addison and Barbara Sinnott.

  Thanks to Zeia Jameson, Andrea Johnston, Jiff Simpson, Andee Michelle, MR Manfield, Cassie Graham for loving these characters as much as I do. Thanks to my BFF of the intranets, Shirl Rickman. Thanks to Lauren, who’s still yelling at me to finish Outlander – I will get there…eventually. Maybe when the last book comes out?

  Thanks to Carrie Tenney for messaging me: our mutual obsessions were bound to make us cross paths. Thanks for introducing me to Samantha Patterson. Samantha, thanks for reading and making sure I’d written Hugh like a proper Scotsman. Thanks to the Manuscript Minxes for their friendship and daily encouragement. You guys are the BEST! Thanks to Erin Spencer, who's always a message away. Thanks to the amazing Southern Belle Book Blog and Enticing Journey for handling the promo. Thanks to the bloggers who rock my socks off and work tirelessly to promote the work of indie authors. A special thank you to Abeautifulbookblog, Schmexy Girl Book Blog, Maryse Book Blog, Typical Distractions, Aaly and The Books, Obsessed with Romance, Reviews by Reds, Disheveled Book Blog, Reading in Sarah’s Corner, MustReadBooksorDie, Book Junky Girls, A Page to Turn Reviews, ItaPixie’s Book Corner, Marieke’s Books and Itsy Bitsy Book Bits. Thank you for supporting me!

  This is just a small selection of the music I listened to while writing Lost in Scotland. You can play the entire playlist on Spotify!

  Comeback Queen – LOLO

  High Heels – JoJo

  Hell No – Ingrid Michaelson

  Why Should I Be Sad – Britney Spears

  Outside – Calvin Harris & Ellie Goulding

  Don’t Stop Me Now – Queen

  Send My Love (To Your New Lover) - Adele

  Fuck With Myself – Banks

  Shut Up Kiss Me – Angel Olsen

  Good Girls – Nick Jonas

  Jump – Rihanna

  Pony – Ginuwine

  Starving – Hailee Steinfeld

  Pink + White – Frank Ocean

  Higher Love – Alex Vargas

  Damn Sam (I Love a Woman That Rains) – Ryan Adams

  Edibles – JoJo

  Hold Up – Cavillo Sisters (Beyoncé Cover)

  Peace of Mind – The Killers

  A 1000 Times – Hamilton Leithauser + Rostam

  Black Magic – Little Mix

  Brown Eyed Girl – Van Morrison

  Hilaria Alexander was born and raised in the south of Italy, where her family still lives. She was bit by the travel bug early on and lived in Tokyo and Orlando for a while before settling down in Oklahoma City with her husband and kids.

  She loves books - obviously - as well as movies and TV, and is addicted to award shows. She can't play an instrument to save her life, but she loves music, which is one of her biggest inspirations when plotting new stories. If you have questions about her or her books, ask her on Facebook and Twitter, or email her at hilaria_alexander@outlook.com.

  My editor, who also happens to be my best friend, told me she thinks I write like a prude. That EVERYONE thinks I write like a prude. She made it clear that my next book will not be published if I don’t “spice things up”.

  Instead of replying calmly, like the “old” Prudence Clearwater would have, I stormed out of her office and told her to go to hell.

  After a few days spent wallowing, unsure about my future, I decided that I should:

  Ignore the naysayers and backstabbing.

  Re-evaluate my inner circle, especially my deceitful BFF.

  Focus on my writing and figure out where I went wrong.

  Accept any help I can get, especially from my old college crush, who happens to be a successful book agent and looks like a Viking God.

  Keep my friendship with the aforementioned Viking God platonic, even when he makes me tingle in all the right places.

  Or maybe, since I'm not a pr
ude, I should just live a little…and surrender to the charming Ben Hallstrom.

  What's the worst that could happen?

  Music brought them together,

  But it just might tear them apart.

  Leaving New York.

  It was the best decision I ever made.

  Packing up and moving to the other side of the world changed me.

  I turned a new page, leaving the past behind.

  Amsterdam felt like home‒for a while.

  But I was still stuck.

  Unable to move forward.

  Then, Lou Rivers showed up,

  Instantly, I felt my life shift again.

  A constant reminder of the life I once had,

  The mistakes I left behind.

  He's the musician I dreamed of being...

  If I were stronger, bolder, braver.

  But I wasn’t.

  He taught me how to love music again,

  And for the first time, I feel like I know what to do.

  But how can I?

  How can I become myself without giving up on us?

  Lucy has always been a good girl. The most hardcore thing she's done in her life was falling for a divorced man ten years her senior.

  But he was the love of her life, and she married him. When her Peter Pan of a husband decided to divorce her, she thought it was her chance to start anew. That was until she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Besides looking like Britney circa 2007, she is taking it well, real well. You might see her walk around the hospital during chemo sessions with bright colored wigs and outrageous t-shirts that seem to shock the most conservative employees. One of them reads FU CANCER.

  Strong and independent,

  Wrong for each other in every way.

  But the heat, the passion, the pull.