Page 9 of Grace on the Rocks

“S—I’msorry, what?”

“It was just sitting there empty, and the hotels were turning folk away every day, soIbought some new linens and… it’s done.”Sheheld up her hands in surrender, much asTeàrlachhad.

Bryan stepped closer, putting his back between their argument and the crowd of tourists. “Undoit,Cait,” he said softly.

“Well,Ican’t undo it, canI?They’rehere now.”

He glared at his sister.Allhe wanted was to hide, alone, inside his grandfather’s house and work on his proposal for the distillery, but now he’d have to play host to a couple ofAmericansunless he could palm them off on someone else.

Grandad’s little house had two small bedrooms and one toilet.WouldtheAmericanInvasionagree to share?Orwould he be relegated to the lumpy old sofa, already six inches too short by the time he was sixteen?

Behind him, the one from the airport who called herselfGracewas chatting toTeàrlachlike they were old friends.

“If you’d told someone you were coming…”Caitbegan.

“You’d have what?Notrented outmyhouse?”

“It’s been vacant for months,RyanDanielMacNeil, with no word from you.”

This time he couldn’t hold back the shudder.Hisname wasBryan, damn it, and he’d never once asked anyone to drop theB, even when he couldn’t pronounce it.

“Frankly,Inever thought to see you again.Weonly knew you were alive thanks toTeàrlachhere.”

Sighing,Bryanraked a hand through his hair and turned away from his sister’s accusatory glower to face his cousin and the two interlopingAmericans.Theblonde was watching him closely.

“Double booked?” she asked.

“Apparently.”

She scrunched her face sympathetically.

“How long are you here?”

“Four weeks,” she replied.

Bryan tried to keep his own expression impassive, butJuleswould be boots on the ground in just over three weeks, and they expected to see not only his finished proposal and the island as a whole but a completed proof of concept.Howwould he be ready in time with a matching set ofAmericandistractions?

“It’s her birthday.”

“It’s not a birthday trip.I’mon a deadline,”Gracecorrected, clearly not as absorbed in her conversation as she seemed.

“I heard about your book,”Teàrlachsaid. “Congratulations,I’mso proud of you,Gracie.”

“You’re a writer?”Bryandemanded.

Her gaze snapped to his, the scene in the airport suddenly so much more embarrassing.Ninehundred thirty-five trees.Hisneck burned at the memory while her eyes challenged him to insult her again.

Cait’s gaze flicked from him to her guests. “Readyto go?” she asked, overly bright.

“We don’t want to put you out,” the blonde said.

“Nonsense.WelcometoBarra.”Bryanpunched theBwith everything he had just to show his sister he could, before tossing his holdall into the back of her pickup and climbing in alongside theAmericans’ luggage for the drive down the road and along the coast toCastlebayand the house ofGrandadMac.

ChapterThree

This whole trip was doomed from the start, andGraceknew it.Shehad known when her agent and editor conference-called her to demand an update on her manuscript the day after she won the trip, but she’d ignored her intuition.Shehad known it whenRebeccabacked out at the last minute because her husband didn’t want her to go, butGracehad pretended it was no big deal and invitedWesinstead.Therehad been red flag after red flag, if one believed in signs from the universe.Gracehad ignored them all, and now she was being punished.

She tried not to eavesdrop whileMr.BeeTattoohashed things out with theirB&Bhost, but her mind was always doing too many things at once.Itwas a blessing and a curse.Evenwhen she turned around and saw her brother’s old bestie,TeàrlachBuchanan, of all people, some part of her brain was still listening to their hushed argument, panicking that she andWeswould be put straight back onto the plane.

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