Page 11 of Scent of Home

“That was Brayson Langley. He is…Bray,” I say in a stiff tone.

Locke snorts. “That clears up a lot. Why do you hate him? What does he do? Where does he come from? How do I get his cock inside me?”

I choke and have to grab the steering wheel hard to stop us from driving off the side of the bridge.

“He walks a fine line between being a nuisance and being trouble. He drinks too much, gets into fights every other weekend, and is the local mechanic.” My voice is hard, I really don’t want to talk about this! The familiar mix of envy and shame rise, and I squash them.

“Does he have a hot bike, too?” Locke asks.

With a glower, I nod sharply. “He’s got a couple of different rides that would appeal.”

“And lots of tattoos?”

I groan. “Save yourself the trouble. Brayson doesn’t do anything but one-night stands. He will chew you up and spit you out.”

“I didn’t say I was interested,” Locke says defensively. He smiles wickedly. “But I am. Deeply interested.”

“Everyone’s interested,” I snap.

Erin chuckles quietly, but when I look at her, she’s looking out the window.

I start driving again, slowly rumbling over the bridge. For the next fifteen minutes, we sit in silence as I drive us home.

As we get close, I glance at her, watching her wide eyes and the awe that slowly transforms her. This is my favourite moment. It’s why I bring my guests out here myself personally.

For this moment, as they view my home for the first time.

It humbles me. Especially knowing this is my family’s legacy.

I glance at Locke and find him frowning at the scenery. His reaction confuses me. I return my eyes to the scene in front of me and drive slowly through the resort. There are eighteen cabins built over a large area of the property, allowing for privacy, plus the main house where we have a bar and restaurant that often has local musical talent playing. Quite a number of the townsfolk make it up here on the weekends.

I stop the car in front of the main house and look up at it. The glass windows go the entire two stories and frame a view of the mountains, the house is built out of wood and stone.

My fathers built it for my mother. It’s stunning, and there is luxury and love in every single line of the architecture

“So, this is the main house. Every night, we serve dinner and drinks. On the weekend, we host evenings in the bar.” I lead them through the house, trying to take it in from their eyes.

It is impressive. I feel the presence of my family every time I welcome a new guest.

I lead them into the bar. It’s empty at the moment, but there’s a huge piano in one corner and a stage for a band to come and play.

My bar is cozy and dark, with wood finishes and expensive bottles of booze displayed on the back wall. There’s tables, booths, and places to stand and chat, and a pool table.

“This is Destiny’s.”

“Destiny?” Locke asks absently.

“My mother’s dream. A bar where she could come and play her music and talk to her friends.”

Erin turns slowly, taking it all in. “It’s beautiful, Finn.”

“We’ll be having a few of the festival shows here over the next couple of days if you choose to stay.”

Locke is staring at the stage with a hunger that I’ve rarely seen. I almost ask about it, but change my mind when the door slams open.

“Finn!”

I turn and groan. Of all the luck.

---