From the Author: Ava's life has always been about the Plan. Go to law school, get married, make partner, live happily ever after. But what happens when the Plan is out of her reach? Making an escape to Bali, Ava's life collides with Scott, the Scotsman who calles her straight laced the moment they meet.

She slid the glass door open, jumping back in shock when her intruder decided to jump up at her in the middle of his singing. His height, his Backstreet Boys t-shirt and spiky brown hair was enough for Ava to know who it was.

"Scott?!" She exclaimed, suddenly grabbing the collar of her robe to hide her cleavage.

Indeed, it was Scott. Scott the Scotsman, barefoot, probably a little drunk and prancing around her bedroom to the most famous song that ever hailed from Scotland. He was still singing, laughing like a maniac as he grabbed Ava's hands and skipped around in circles with her for the chorus, making her dizzy and giggly like she'd swallowed down one too many cans of Bintang. Throwing caution to the wind, she found herself laughing and singing along, lost in the whirlwind of his happy dancing and his eerily accurate singing.

She collapsed backwards on the bed, laughing and resisting the strong urge to throw up. The feeling of laughing over nothing was so new to Ava that she reveled in it, letting her arms spread out on her bed. When was the last time she had laughed this hard?

She didn't even want to think about the answer to that question.

"Hallo darlin'!" Scott exclaimed, collapsing beside her on the bed as the song ended. There wasn't a trace of redness on him, but his breath was telling. "What're you doing in my room?"
"What?" Ava asked a little too loudly, and Scott laughed again. "This is my room."

"I know," He said, in perfectly understandable English. Apparently his accent had finally grown on Ava. His eyes flickered to the redness in her cheeks and a grin spread across his face. "Have you been drinking?" He asked, like he was scandalized by the suggestion.

"If you must know," Ava began, but found she didn't really want to talk. "Yes."

"Brilliant, I'll join you."

"Don't you think you've had enough, if you're waltzing into other people's villas?" Ava asked, sitting up as Scott sashayed to the mini-fridge. His legs were so long that his hips just naturally rolled up and down. She suddenly had a vision of those long legs tangling up in hers. Where did that come from?

"Ah, but this is my villa too," he pointed out, handing her the last can while he took a swallow from his. "I'll grab replacements at the mini-mart tomorrow, don't worry," he told her nudging the can towards her as she looked at him skeptically. Ava's eyes traced the line from his bobbing Adam's apple to his chest, then even further down to—

"I'm in the adjoining suite," Scott suddenly said, snapping Ava out of her thoughts. "And I'm hiding from the stripper one of Charlie's mates hired."

"Why would you be hiding from a...unless she was—no!" Ava's furrowed eyebrows flew up as she gasped, laughing as her feet dangled over the edge of the bed. "I thought they only had those types in Thailand?"
"Apparently not," he chuckled, shaking his head and drinking more beer as he ran a hand through his spiky brown hair. Ava found herself laughing harder, gripping her sides and rolling around the bed. Scott sipped more beer, smiling at Ava and sank down on the bed beside her.

"So, Miss Ava," he said, propping himself up on his elbows as he relaxed back into the bed. "What are you doing, getting drunk all by yourself while listening to The Proclaimers? You know, play that song loud enough and a Scotsman is likely to appear. It's just science," he shrugged, crushing his empty beer bottle with one hand before tossing it neatly into the trash bin across the room.
"If you must know," Ava said, her temples still throbbing. She swallowed down her beer anyway, turning to place the half-empty can on the bedside table. Then she dropped back into the bed and turned to look at him. Gah. His arms were all sinewy. Why did she not touch them earlier when she had the chance? "I was just about to have a lovely bath when some jerk suddenly burst into my room, singing."

"Ooooh, a proper burn," Scott conceded, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down again as he let out a deep, throaty laugh. "We'll make a feisty lass out of you yet!"

Then he rolled his head backwards and turned his dark brown eyes right into Ava's. The tingly warmth she'd felt earlier that day returned. Apparently it hadn't been the kiss of his hand. It was the way he looked at her. It was the look of someone who couldn't see anything else, one that she realized, she had never received.

"You know, I haven't forgiven you for what you called me this morning," she told him.

"What, a virgin?" He joked, and she rolled her eyes.

"Oh you know what I'm talking about," she said, kicking his leg with her bare toes, making him laugh and look at her again. How could someone look at her like that? "Straight-laced. You practically called me boring."

"Prove me wrong then," he challenged, his voice so low she didn't think she heard him right. Scott's eyes were dark as they trailed over her, from her toes against his leg, to the slit in her robe and back to her eyes. She shivered.

It's the Scottish vacuum of charm, Bee had explained to her once while they watched Outlander. It was Bee's favorite show, and Ava never really got the appeal...until now.

She felt herself being sucked into the vacuum right away. Scott smiled, and the world around her melted away. There was something so boyish about that grin, and so adorable that she couldn't help but smile back.

If Ava was her old self, she would have pushed the proverbial reverse button on this situation. It didn't make sense for her to be so attracted to someone she'd known for less than a day. There was nothing about Scott that fit into her plans, present or future.

But Ava wasn't exactly her old self now, was she?