Read Online What Lies Between by Charlena Miller - Free Book Online

thought about just selling it?”
    “Selling it? Do you think I came here for the money?”
    “Who could blame you?”
    “I didn’t go looking for it—Gerard left it to me. And I intend to keep it.” I fixed my stare on him, trying to squash the urge to be more honest. But something about him knocked chinks in my defenses. “Okay . . . I’ll admit the money was a draw, but that changed the minute I got here. I will make this estate a success and pay off the investors. You can believe that or not.” I turned and strode down the hill back toward the main road where the Land Rover waited.
    Ben caught up to me. “Listen, it’s not that I don’t believe in you. What you’re getting yourself into is more than most people could handle. It may not be worth it . . .”
    I glared at him. “Maybe it wouldn’t be worth it to you, but Glenbroch is worth it to me.” Pushing him aside, I didn’t look back, swinging my body into the Land Rover and firing up its engine. Ben had barely climbed in when I tried to shove the vehicle into first.
    The gear shift groaned in my hand, heavy and stubborn, refusing to submit. The vehicle lacked tolerance for the American driver and killed its engine in response to my attempts. After the third round, Ben reached over to help.
    “I’ve got this,” I snapped.
    “Aye, you do—” he said, his accent too strong for me to understand the rest of his words.
    In full assault mode now, I was determined to overcome the Beast’s resistance. This Land Rover definitely fit the name I’d just given it.
    I hatched a plan and tugged the gear into reverse, backing up and lulling the vehicle into thinking we weren’t going anywhere at all. Then I whipped into first and lunged forward. Ben nearly flew through the windshield.
    “God bless America! Put your seatbelt on! I’m not responsible for your bloody corpse, all right?” I said, faintly aware my anger wasn’t all about this situation . . . or Ben.
    “And God bless Scotland!” he yelled out, a smirk on his face.
    Shooting a glare in his direction, I shoved the stick into second. The Beast complained with each of my inelegant gear shifts, but it surrendered and kept moving.
    In spite of my best efforts, I kept drifting to the side of the road, scraping the passenger side of the cranky vehicle against the tall, scruffy bushes.
    “My depth perception is messed up,” I complained, not used to how odd it was to have the bulk of the car to the left of me.
    “Maybe if you weren’t taking your anger out on it . . .” Ben admonished, one hand gripping the overhead handle and the other braced against the dashboard.
    Ignoring his verbal jab, I slowed at a passing place, let the only car go by, managed my wave, then ground the gear into first once again, defying the Beast to fling any back talk. By the time we arrived back at the house it had grudgingly accepted its new boss. I was battle-weary but triumphant.
    Ben unloaded the remaining food into my pantry and fridge, which worked to soften the anger and frustration that neither he nor the Beast deserved. I was barely away from the door after bidding him goodbye when a firm rap sounded on the heavy wood. I opened it to Ben’s grinning face.
    “About Skye . . .”
    “Oh right.” Much as I wanted to go, I had forgotten all about his offer.
    “You see, my mate Ewan and I used to be partners in a bespoke tour company—posh clientele, nice vehicle, comfy B&Bs. I sold my share to him a couple years ago but still fill in whenever he needs help. He needs me to take out a group from Inverness. This tour is a wee bit more than a day trip—two nights on Skye.” He cast his eyes to the floor, revealing a slight shyness. The last of my anger vaporized.
    At first impression, he came across too self-assured to be shy, but then I’d heard that assessment about me before. I could exude polished confidence when needed and had learned to carry it convincingly, but it felt like putting on a Batman