Page 29 of Grace on the Rocks

She opened her laptop, freshly charged the night before they leftKnoxville.Itwas dead, because of course it was.She’dintended to replace it with money from her advance, but a new-to-her six-year-oldSubaruhad taken priority.

After fishing out the plug adapter, she nibbled a piece of tablet as a consolation while waiting for the beast to boot up, and holy hell it was delicious—sweet, creamy, dangerous heaven in edible form!Thewhole piece was gone before the laptop agreed to cooperate.

As she waited, the rooftop pandemonium seemed to grow louder, ratcheting upGrace’sanxiety until she couldn’t take it anymore.Sheswitched on her noise-cancelling headphones—thankfullytheystill had some charge—and the discordant chaos was instantly replaced by rhythmic, atmospheric tones.Nowthe only giveaway thatMr.Beewas attacking his roof was the thrumming in her bones.

Not that it mattered.

She stared at the blinking cursor, her mind as blank as the page, and all she could think about was the stern crease between his decidedly perturbed eyebrows, just begging to be smoothed.Whatdid he have to look so cross about anyway?Helived in actual paradise, in a nice enough cottage, with an annoying sister close by who brought heavenly treats.Gracehadn’t lived in the same state as her brother since she was thirteen years old.

But that had nothing to do with her book.Itwas time to focus.

BLINK.BLINK.BLINK.

Was the cursor blinking too fast?Almostflickering?Didthat mean her computer was about to die for good?Orwas she just fixating on the cursor to keep from fixating on another straight line, up and down, a chasm between deep-set green eyes?

Except her hero didn’t have ginger hair or green eyes.Hehad black hair and grey eyes and sixteen-year-oldMayahad been in love with him since sixth grade, only she didn’t know it back then.

Grace rubbed in between her own brows.Juststart writing.Thewords will come.

Eventually.

Right?

Her headphones beeped twice and shut off, letting the muffled sound of screwdrivers and hammers infiltrate her peace once more.

Slamming her laptop shut, she threw her headphones on the bed and stormed out of the room, the cacophony growing louder as she crossed the kitchen.Graceyanked open the back door and strode out—right into a ladder, which sailed down onto the sandy grass with surprising elegance considering how inelegantly she’d knocked into it.

The noise stopped immediately as she stood under the porch roof, rubbing her forearm and shin.She’dhave bruises later.

“Was that the ladder?” a young male brogue asked.

“Aye,” her host answered on a long sigh. “I’llget it.”

“Don’t break anything, old timer.”

“CarefulIdon’t throw you off after it,” he growled in reply.

And then he landed on his feet just in front of her, the disgustingly sculpted muscles in his back rippling in the sunshine.Likelast night, he was shirtless.Hispale, freckled skin was beginning to pink like someone not quite used to working out in the sunshine, skin that looked velvety soft to touch.

Seeming to sense her stare, he turned around and his eyes grew large, his mouth opening to form soundless words as she took in the dusting of auburn hair that glistened in the sun, trailing down his chest and disappearing into the waistband of his jeans.

“Lose your shirt?”Gracebellowed.

“What?” he asked, before looking down at himself as though he’d forgotten he was half-naked.Uponrealizing it, he wiped his sweaty face on his forearm and placed both hands on his hips in a way that he must know was showing off his massive biceps as well as his abs.

“Don’twhatme.Whatthe hell are you doing out here?” she demanded, locking her gaze on the bee tattoo rather than his sweaty face or naked chest or the tantalizing trail of hair.

“Working.Toldyou last night it may get loud.”

Had he?Wasthat while he’d stood too close in the too-small bathroom, helping with his ridiculously complicated shower faucet?Orwhile he as much as admitted to paying for aMajorLeagueSoccerstream to keep tabs on her brother?

“ButIhave a deadline!” she protested.

He frowned at her and then shrugged. “Apologies.Itcan’t be helped.”

Grace stormed towards him, but he turned away from her and squatted down, filling out his jeans in an obscene sort of way.

“Did you kick over my ladder?” he demanded, lifting the object in question and placing it adjacent to the roofline once more.

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