Joanna's Highlander (Highland Protector #2)(13)
The prickling sense of seven pairs of bespectacled eyes focused on her like hunting hawks on a bunny yanked her free of the inner survival monologue. Time to get this tour under control. She grabbed her travel mug and stood, pushing her chair away before Grant had time to help her. “I’m going to bring the bus around to the circle drive. You ladies meet me there.”
With her best nonchalant attitude, Joanna smiled at Grant. “We’ll meet you at the welcoming center. Okay?”
“Nay, lass.” Grant’s lopsided grin blossomed into the type of knowing smile that set off Joanna’s warning bells. “The clan tasked me with improving Esme’s drivin’ skills, so I had her drop me off here this mornin’. I’ll ride to the park with ye and yer ladies, if ye dinna mind.”
“If you want, I’ll drive!” Georgetta volunteered with a wicked grin as she rose from her seat and motioned for the other women to follow. “That way you and this fine young man can sit together.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Joanna quickly interrupted. “Our insurance only covers drivers employed by Carolina Adventures.” There. That sounded like a safe official reason to refuse. Whether or not it was true, she had no earthly idea. She turned her attention back to Grant. Time to ferret out what he was up to. Never in all the time she’d known him had he been this forthcoming to stay at her side. I’m not complaining, she told herself. But what the hell is going on?
“I’ve seen Esme drive. Looks like she does just fine to me.” She fixed Grant with the same look that always worked on seven-year-old Tyler when the little imp was trying to get away with telling a lie.
Grant rose from the table. Smile gone. Replaced with a stern jaw-clenched look. “No sixteen-year-old lassie shouldha already gleaned three warning tickets for speeding.” He shook a finger in the air, reminding Joanna of a preacher warning of hellfire and damnation. “I offered t’heat up her fearless wee arse with a fine willow switch but Máthair wouldna hear of it. She spoils the girl as sure as I’m standin’ here.” He shook his finger again, his voice getting louder. “The only reason she’s no’ had t’pay any of the tickets is because that young deputy is smitten with her and thinks she’s bonnie.” Grant shook his head with a hard jerk. “I’ll snap that man in half if he touches wee Esme.”
Okay. So he’s not lying about Esme. “I’m sure you’ll get the situation all straightened out.” Joanna motioned to the ladies and waved them toward the door. “The circle drive in about five minutes, okay?” Surely, that would give them all enough time to…how had Irene put it…oh yeah…powder their noses.
Joanna latched hold of Grant’s preaching finger that he still held stuck up in the air, then turned and headed across the dining room. What a pull toy! She coughed to cover a mischievous giggle. “If it’s that young dark-haired deputy, he just enlisted. Navy, I think. Seems like somebody said he’s interested in subs. He won’t be around much longer to chase after Esme. There’s part of your problem solved.”
“Good.” Grant artfully finagled his finger in her grasp until he was holding Joanna’s hand against his side as though he would never let go. “But what is subs?”
Struggling to ignore just how right it felt to have Grant snugging her up against his side, Joanna wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. “Uhm…what?”
“Subs,” Grant repeated, stressing the word as though it felt completely foreign on his tongue.
I did hear right. Is he serious? She stole a glance up at Grant’s face as they released hands and pushed through the outer door leading to the parking lot. The man looked confused—and dead serious. “Naval submarines. Subs is short for submarines.” She didn’t want to sound like she thought he was stupid, but…damn—does he really not know what a sub is?
“I see,” Grant replied, but Joanna could tell by the uncertainty in his tone that he still didn’t understand and from the scowl on his face, he hated being seen as vulnerable or ill-informed.
Better change the subject. “I thought we’d start the ladies in the herbal shop at the park. Your mom’s working today—right?”
“Aye.” Grant stood beside the tour bus door, bowing slightly and hand held out toward Joanna. “M’lady.”
“?‘M’lady’?” Joanna repeated as she took hold of the aluminum railing of the bus and put one foot on the first step. “You know you don’t have to do that medieval park stuff when it’s just you and me, right?” There. She’d finally said it. His role-playing had been cute at first. Kind of fantasy-romantic, even. But—damn. She’d never know the “real” Grant if he was constantly role-playing. That was the main reason she wondered if the rumors about him being a moody-ass diva were true.
Grant straightened and took such a deep breath that his already massive chest swelled to epic proportions. “I wasna aware that treating a lady as she should be treated was…how did ye put it…oh yes…medieval park stuff. I’ll be beggin’ yer pardon if I’ve offended ye, but I’ll ne’er stop treatin’ ye with the respect and caring that ye deserve.”
Holy shit. He’s serious. Joanna released the bus railing and put her foot back on the ground. Must be a Scotland thing and drilled into them at an early age. With a hesitancy born of being burned by relationships before, she reached out and touched his tensed forearm locked across his chest. The muscles of his arm barely shifted under her fingertips as though it was taking all the strength Grant possessed to stand there and not say whatever else he had on his mind. “I’m sorry, Grant. I wasn’t making fun of you—promise.” She squeezed his arm and took a step closer. “I’m just not used to being treated so…”