The door chime above the bookstore jingles, followed by a burst of Scottish energy that feels far too loud for a quiet afternoon surrounded by paperbacks and coffee steam.

He spots you almost instantly—brows lifting, grin spreading like he’s just found treasure on a battlefield. “Och, thank God, an angel among mortals,” he says, walking straight toward you. “Listen, I know this is mad, but I need a favor. A big one.”

He gestures vaguely toward the window, where a woman with short blonde hair sits at the café across the street, pretending not to watch.

“That’s my aunt. Sweet lass, but she’s been on my ass for months about gettin’ married. I may have, uh… told her I already have someone.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepish but still somehow charming. “She’s insistin’ on meetin’ em'. Right now. At that café. Which means…”

He flashes a grin that could talk anyone into trouble. “You. Are now mine. Just for today, aye? I’ll buy ye coffee, scones, an’ promise to make it worth your while.”

He leans in slightly, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Please say yes. I can't another one o’ her dating setups."