I can only see half of his face, reflected in the mirror at the front of the bus, and part of that is obscured by the peak of the black company-branded cap he's wearing. But I can see enough to glean that there's a strong jaw covered in scruff. A wi...
With each little part of Scotland I discover, I become more impressed by it. And more ashamed that I didn't give it a chance sooner.
So many beautiful lochs, just waiting to be stared at in awe. Beaches to die for. Dramatic waterfalls to nearly die near. (Okay, I'm still not over the Corrieshalloch Gorge incident, clearly.) Impressively huge mountains that I can look at from below and rule out ever climbing.
Why did I never realise all that Scotland had to offer until now? Apparently, I've fallen in love twice on this holiday.
Torridon, our next destination, deepens my feelings further. The landscape here is ruggedly beautiful and utterly unforgiving in some places. Numerous mountains compete with each other, all gunning to win the prize of most jaw-dropping sight. I'm not sure I can crown a winner; I feel like I'd need far more time to judge. It's all stunning.
Owen takes us over an amazing mountain pass with incredible views over the water below and drives us down a steep hilly road to the township of Lower Diabaig. We park here briefly, poking around the tiny beach complete with shipwreck, astounded by how peaceful it is.
Dispenser of knowledge as well as tissues, Owen tells us parts of the movie "Loch Ness" were filmed here - Loch Ness itself is actually eighty miles away. He also tells us that it's only a seven mile walk (I know - "only" - pfft!) to Red Point Beach where we were just a couple of hours ago. However, Red Point and Lower Diabaig are actually 45 miles apart by road.
"Scotland is weird," I blurt out.
Owen chuckles. "I blame all the peninsulas."
He has a point. Have a look at a map of the West of Scotland, and you'll see what I mean. It's very jaggy. (Totally the technical term, honest.)
The weather is still holding out, much to my delight, and it is glorious. I'm actually well on my way to acquiring the best tan I've had on a Scottish holiday since my teenage years.
"Are you still having a good birthday?" I ask Owen, as we briefly take a moment alone, strolling along the beach away from the others. He wraps an arm securely around me, anchoring me against him.
"The best," he says quietly, eyes soft as he looks down at me.
That's exactly what I was hopinghe'd say.
His lips melt into mine, his hands slip through my hair, and my head tilts to the side to allow the kiss to deepen. Gentle, sweet, affectionate. Our kisses seem to bounce between two extremes at the moment. It's either sugar or spice, adorable or horny.
"C'mon lovebirds!" Michelle shouts, seeming very far away - impossible given how small Lower Diabaig actually is. "Can you stop trying to recreate some sort of Hallmark film already?"
"Can she bloody make her mind up?" I groan against Owen's mouth. "First, she wants us together, and now she's moaning about it?"
He laughs, burying his face in my neck. "I'm hoping she's kidding."
"In all seriousness though," I say, as he slips his hand into mine, and we start walking back towards my friends. "I was watching this Netflix film not that long ago where that girl from She's All That went on a tour of Vietnam, and she basically hogged their guide the whole time. And I remember thinking it wasn't very cool of her. In fact, I'm pretty sure I muttered 'what a selfish bitch' under my breath on several occasions."
"I genuinely don't think your friends mind," Owen reassures me. "I think they're just happy you're happy."
All the same, I can't help but pose the question to Nessa later, when I manage to get her alone. "You don't feel like Owen is neglecting the rest of you because of me, right?" I ask anxiously.
"Absolutely not," she insists. "You are inno way Rachael Leigh Cook-ing us." I forgot we watched that movie together. "And, even if you were, we really wouldn't care. We're delighted for you."
"You sure?" I check.
"No Cook-blocking here," Nessa nods, grinning. "Just one big ol' cinnamon roll, turning our friend into a romantic fool."
I know, of course, of the term "cinnamon roll hero". I've read enough romance novels myself to be fully informed. But it's only just occurring to me that Owen really is a prime example of one. Kind, supportive, and an all-round good guy. And his honesty? It just blows my mind every time.
"Are cinnamon rolls even really a thing over here?" I ask thoughtfully. "Maybe we should make our own Scottish comparison for romance purposes. A Millionaire's Shortbread hero, maybe?"
Nessa bursts out laughing. "That could work actually. A sweet chocolatey topping and reliable shortbread base with a cheeky layer of caramel sandwiched in the middle. Sounds about right!" She sobers up. "What's the plan with you guys, though? Have you talked about . . . What happens next?"
"Not yet." I bite my lip. "I'm kind of scared to broach it."
"I don't think you need to be afraid," she tells me. "It's so obvious to all of us that this isn't just some sort of holiday fling. For either of you. Whatever happens, you'll make it work."
"But . . . What if this is just like the honeymoon period?" I ask her. This is the other worry I have. "It's so good right now, but is it just because we're on holiday and everything has this shiny filter over it?"
Nessa shakes her head firmly. "No. You guys are solid. You have history, you have chemistry . . ."
"It feels like you're just telling me my school timetable now," I interrupt, and she shoves me playfully, rolling her eyes.
"You know what I mean."
And I do.
We're staying near Torridon tonight, and I've left Owen in our room while I went for a walk with Nessa in the woodland nearby. Yes. Our room. We checked in, and he got a key for his own room . . . but he asked me if he really needed his own room, and I had no hesitation in saying no. So that key went in his pocket, and he and his suitcase joined me in my room.
And when I return to the room, I find he's ran me a bath.
"You can have it to yourself, if you'd prefer," he says tentatively. Then that cheeky smile takes over his face. "But it is big enough for the two of us, and I am practically undressed already so . . ." He quirks his eyebrows upwards questioningly, while indicating down his body to show he's only wearing his boxers.
"I'd noticed." My gaze slides over him appreciatively. "And you'd be more than welcome to join me." I pull my t-shirt dress over my head, and kick my sandals off, basking in his own admiring appraisal of me.
We tumble into the bathroom together, laughing and shedding our underwear as we go. And I already know this is going to be the best bath I've ever had . . . because every experience somehow seems better when Owen is beside me.
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Torridon is one of my favourite areas of Scotland - it already cameos briefly in two of my other stories ("Happy Hour" and "No Reservations: Ryan's Version"), but I couldn't do a North Coast 500 themed story without including it again. The above photo (and original cover photo) are from the Bealach Na Gaoithe mountain pass in Torridon, and I would also thoroughly recommend driving down to Lower Diabaig if you ever get the opportunity!
