Page 11 of Grace on the Rocks

“No petting wild animals,”Gracewarned her, glancing out the back window atMr.BeeTattoo, only to find him scowling out towards the seals himself.She’dclearly been right about his perma-scowl.Restingscowl-face.Itsuited him more than his name.

Soon they arrived at a cute little white-washed stone house on the edge of town.Mr.BeeTattooused those brawny forearms to lift the luggage out of the truck bed beforeWesleyandGracehad set foot on the pebbled driveway, more’s the pity.Nowhe stared at the house with glistening eyes like a soldier come home from the war.

“I know it’s not ideal,” he murmured. “Butyou’ll be comfortable here.”

“It’s fine,”Gracesaid. “Soit was your grandfather’s?”

“Been in the family generations,”Caitrionaexplained. “It’sone of the oldest modern structures on the island.We’retrying to get a plaque.”

“He would hate a… plaque,” her brother growled, spitting the word plaque with a mouthful of venom.

“Oldestmodern?”Wesrepeated and he nodded curtly.

“There’s tumbledown church ruins that are older.”

“CanIwalk to them?”

He assessed her.Wesleywas fair and blonde, tall and lean, with a hearty build.Shewas often mistaken for a lacrosse player, though she’d never played any sports toGrace’srecollection, unless you counted the occasional round of frisbee golf in college.

“Aye, you could probably walk if you’ve a mind.Butnot today.”Helooked up at the cloudless blue sky. “It’sgoing to rain.”

“Back five minutes and he thinks he can predict the weather,”Caitrionagrumbled, rolling her eyes and unlocking the red front door. “Tellme,Ry, is it the rheumatism or your trick knee that gives it away?”

He glowered at her, gesturingWesandGraceinside and holding out his hand for the key, which his sister reluctantly handed over before following them in.

“There’s live music on the beach every night during the festival, and a big ceilidh at the hall to finish it off,” she told them, offeringGracea flyer. “Youknow what they say about all work and no play.”

“Something like, it helpsJackpay his bills?”Gracequipped, handing the flyer off toWesley, andMr.Bee’slips twitched like he was actually fighting back a smile.Thecrooked expression made his green eyes sparkle in a rather arresting sort of way.Goodlord.Absolutelynot,Gray.

Caitriona led them through the little house, pointing out the single bathroom, awesome, and two small but tidy bedrooms.

“It’s very cute,”Weswhispered. “Wecan share a room.”

“At least for one night.Maybewe’ll get lucky and somewhere will have a cancellation tomorrow.ButIdon’t want to bug you with my typing,”Gracewarned.

Smiling,Wesleyshook her head. “Igrew up in boarding school dorms.IthinkIcan sleep through it.”

“Really?Isthat why you and your friends rearranged all the keys on that poor girl’s keyboard?”

Wes snickered. “No, that was because she toldTommyPerkinsthatMelissawet the bed.Besides,Iwon’t be indoors much.Iwant to soak up every last sightIcan.”

Grace squeezed her hand and turned to their landlords, who were hovering in the living room like a pair of displaced ghosts. “Thanksfor everything,” she said. “Whichroom is yours, and which should we take?”

He visibly relaxed, thoughCaitrionabegan to splutter. “Don’tbe silly, he can?—”

“That one gets more light.Forwriting,” he said, nodding to the room on the left of the small bathroom.Gracenodded back, then she andWespiled into the little room with their suitcases.Itwas fresh and bright, with cream-colored walls and an old braided rug on the stone floor.Thebed looked old and simple, but the mattress was memory foam and covered with a cozy green-checked duvet.Asort of dressing table stood along one wall, drawers on either side, and a mirror with space to pull up a chair.

“We’ll take it,” she called over her shoulder.Theonly thing that would stop her from finishing this manuscript would be herself.

She laid her laptop bag on the makeshift desk and tucked her suitcase in a corner asWesflopped onto the bed.

“Might get noisy,”Mr.Beewarned. “I’vea fair amount of work to do around here.”

“What work?” his sister demanded. “We’vetaken care of everything—fresh paint, a new boiler.”

“No one asked you to,” he replied gruffly.

She huffed but seemed to bite back further retort. “Willyou come and have a meal with the family?Ma’smaking lamb souvlaki and spanakopita.”Hergrimace suggested this was a terrifying culinary departure for their mother.

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