Chapter Twenty-One
Gretchen
"I don't care if I like what you tell me.
Just be honest." I haven't seen the mountain he's talking about, but the way he described it made every hair on my body stiffen.
A chill slithers through me too, though I think that's in my head and not real.
"Come on, Kirk. After everything we've done together, I deserve to know exactly what your latest feat of outrageous bravado will be like. "
"My stunts are not bravado. I'm paid to do these things."
"And you enjoy it." I try to scowl at the crazy man beside me, but I doubt that will affect him. "Don't give me the eye roll, Kirk. I deserve to know the details, all of them, before you do whatever wackadoodle thing you've cooked up this time."
Kirk settles onto the edge of the bed, twisting his mouth into a lopsided expression of irritation. But then he relaxes and tells me, "It's a series of jumps down Aonach Eagach with strategic explosives timing my descent. I'll be blindfolded for the first third."
"Blindfolded? While jumping down a mountain with explosives?" Did I shriek those words? No, I couldn't have. I spoke in a higher-pitched voice than usual but there was no shrieking. I'm ringing my hands now too. "That is not a stunt, it's a suicide mission. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
"I've done riskier jumps," Kirk assures me, his voice infuriatingly calm. "The blindfold comes off after the first ledge. It's for dramatic effect."
"Excuse me? Did you say 'dramatic effect'? You could slam into a rock face and die. I can't have sex with a puddle of red slime."
He smiles in that cocky that always makes me want to both kiss him and strangle him. "The route is mapped out. I've memorized every inch."
"And what about the explosives?" I demand, clutching the sheet tighter. "What happens if the timing is off? Or one of the explosives goes off too early?"
"That's why I'll have a team." Kirk reaches for my hand, but I pull back, still too rattled by both Dougal's intrusion and this new revelation. "The explosions are controlled, lass. They'll be far enough away that I won't be in danger unless something goes catastrophically wrong. And if it does---"
"You die. Right? And I'm supposed to just stand there and watch?"
Kirk's eyes soften, though his jaw remains set in that stubborn line I'm starting to recognize. "Ye dinnae have to watch at all. You could stay here in the village."
"No." The word bursts out of me, sharp as a knife. "If you're doing this insane stunt, I am going to be there."
"Aye, I thought you might say that."
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, pulling the sheet with me like a makeshift toga.
With Dougal's intrusion still fresh, I'm not about to stand around naked.
My brain is bouncing between Dougal's threats and the image of Kirk tumbling down a mountain in a fireball.
"When is this stunt happening? Tonight, you said? "
"Aye, right after sunset. The crew wants the explosions to show up against the night sky."
Kirk stands up and stretches his muscular body, seemingly unconcerned about his nudity or the fact that a criminal broke into his bedroom---our bedroom---not more than ten minutes ago. The man genuinely believes a bat-shit crazy stunt like that is no big deal.
"And you're fine with all the risks?" I grab a T-shirt from the floor---his, not mine---and pull it over my head. "Some psychopath breaks in while we're sleeping, threatens your family, threatens me, and your response is to go jump off a mountain blindfolded?"
Kirk huffs. "I'm not fine with any of it. But the stunt was arranged weeks ago, and I've got people counting on me. The film has already spent a fortune on permits and equipment. I can't back out now."
I search for some sign that he understands how insane this is. "And what about Dougal? You'll just ignore what happened?"
"Of course not." Kirk's voice drops to a deeper, darker register. "Ahm going to deal with Dougal tomorrow, after the stunt. I have a plan."
"Tell me about it. Please." I set my hands on my hips. "Is it as well thought out as jumping blindfolded off a cliff with explosives?"
Kirk moves closer, resting his hands on my shoulders. Somehow the warmth of his touch soothes me through the thin cotton of his T-shirt that I'm wearing. "Gretchen, I can handle the stunt and Dougal."
"I hope so." Though I push against his chest, he easily catches my hands and holds them. His heartbeat is strong and steady under my palms.
"Listen to me," Kirk says, his eyes locking with mine. "I understand your concern. But this is what I do, Gretchen. This is my life's work. Either trust me or don't."
Though I want to argue, but there's something in his expression that stops me---a certainty, a focus that reminds me he's been doing this for years while I've only known him for a few days. Who am I to tell him his business?
I pull my hands away. "I'm coming with you. And if you die, I'll be seriously pissed off."
Kirk smiles. "I have no intention of dying, lass. Not when I've finally found a reason to stay alive---the best reason of all."
The words hang between like an unspoken promise, a tether that binds. I swallow hard, trying to ignore the fluttering in my tummy. I hesitate, unsure of how to respond to his fervent declaration. "That's a pretty smooth line, Balfour."
"It's not a pickup line, mo leannan. It's the simple truth."
"Yes, I'll be there tonight. But I need you to promise me something."
"Anything within reason, lass."
"No improvising. No last-minute heroics. You stick to exactly what you've planned and rehearsed." I poke his chest for emphasis. "And when it's over, we deal with Dougal together. Cut the lone wolf crap."
Kirk's mouth quirks up in the hint of a smile. "I can agree to the first part. But as for Dougal...I won't put you in danger."
"I'm already there. Or did you miss the part where he broke in and watched us sleeping like some creepy stalker? I'm involved whether you like it or not."
A muscle ticks in Kirk's jaw. For a moment, I assume he's going to argue, but instead, he lets out a long breath. "We'll discuss Dougal after the stunt. One problem at a time, aye?"
I want to push harder, but something in his expression stops me. I notice a weariness behind his eyes that wasn't there before. Not physical exhaustion, but something deeper. The weight of responsibility, I think. Maybe he's not as devil-may-care as he pretends to be.
Kirk enfolds me in his arms and sweeps a few stray strands away from my eyes. "Let's forget about Dougal and the stunt for now. I'd like to show you a few of my favorite, most relaxing places in the Highlands."
"Now that I can handle."
We get dressed, then make a quick trip to The Loch Fairbairn Arms so I can check out of the hotel and retrieve my bags. Mrs. Agnew seems crestfallen when I tell her I'm leaving. But she perks up when I admit I'll be spending the rest of my vacation with Kirk.
"It's a secret, okay?" I tell her. "At least for a while."
Kirk lifts one brow. "But you met my family, Gretchen. Our relationship is hardly covert. Do you really believe anyone in this village doesn't already know?"
I shrug. "I guess you're right."
He leads me toward the Porsche with a gentle hand on my lower back. "The second I brought you to meet Mam and Da, my brothers too, the entire Highland telegraph system activated."
"Highland telegraph system?" I snort, tossing my suitcase into the tiny trunk space. "Is that what you call gossipy old ladies?"
"Aye, and they're more efficient than social media. By now, they've probably picked out our wedding venue and named our first three bairns."
When I slide into the passenger seat, my heart does a strange little flip-flop at the casual mention of weddings and babies. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Balfour. I'm still trying to process the fact that I'm dating a man who thinks jumping off mountains is a reasonable career choice."
Kirk grins as he revs the engine. "Aye, well, let's start with a date before we worry about the rest. I know just the spot that I want to take you to---a hidden glen where the world feels like it's standing still."
The drive draws us deeper into the Highlands, away from the well-trodden tourist paths.
Kirk seems to relax as we put distance between us and Loch Fairbairn, his grip on the wheel loosening, his shoulders relaxing out of their tense position.
I find myself relaxing too, despite everything that happened this morning.
There's something about the vast, rolling landscape that puts things in perspective.
We wind through narrow passes between mountains so ancient they look like sleeping giants. The heather paints the slopes in brushstrokes of purple and gold, and occasionally a red deer appears on a distant ridge, statuesque and wild.
"Almost there," Kirk says, pointing to a narrow track that veers off the main road. "Most tourists never find this place."
He steers the Porsche carefully onto what's barely more than a dirt path, branches scraping against the sides of the car.
After a few minutes of bumping along, the trees part to reveal a small glen nestled between two hills.
A crystal-clear stream cuts through the center, bordered by smooth stones and clusters of wildflowers in every imaginable shade.
One thing I can proclaim with utter certainty? Kirk Balfour knows exactly how to give a woman just what she wants and needs.