Claire rolled her eyes. It wasn’t the first time Hugh had asked, but there didn’t seem to be anything she had said or done in the past few hours that could turn the bear he had become back into a rational human being. “Music, Hugh, its called music.” “I’ve heard music beautiful enough tae make angels weep,” he said crossly. “That isnae it.” With a soft snort, she bobbed her head from side to side to the drumbeat of White Lion’s “Radar Love.” She had an entire playlist of songs on her iPod specifically chosen for their ability to shorten a long drive. Queen’s “Fat-Bottomed Girls,” Train’s “50 Ways to Say Goodbye,” the Black-Eyed Peas’ “The Time (Dirty Bit)”… She’d had some scornful laughs over that one in that past but had always argued the “don’t knock it until you’ve tried it” philosophy. It was the best pick-me-up song when fatigue started to roll in. The drive between Spokane and Seattle wasn’t excessively long, but it was too long to drive in complete silence with a man who had redefined the term “angry Scot.”
What do You think about A Time & Place For Every Laird?
