Page 39 of Grace on the Rocks

“Grace,Ileft you a schedule of all the events for the festival.There’sbands day and night, a comedian or two.There’sa theatre troupe in town as well.”

“Thanks,I’llletWesknow,” she replied.

“You picked a fine time to turn up,Ry.Thisis our biggestBàgha’Chiùilyet.Evenyou have to appreciate what it’s doing for the local economy.”

“All thanks to the greatCameronMacNeil, no doubt,” he growled.

“Aye,”Caitlaughed. “Moreor less.”

She remained awkwardly looking up for a few minutes longer, but whenBryandidn’t engage, she wrapped her cardigan tight against the brisk breeze and headed off again.

He glanced over atGrace, daring her to comment on what a shite he was being.Almostas though she could feel his eyes on her, she finally looked up at him and smiled sympathetically. “Family, huh?” she said with a shrug. “Theymust have really missed you,” she added, and it sounded like a rebuke.

“They know how phones work,” he retorted.

Her eyes narrowed. “Imean, what’s not to miss?Wit, charm, sunny disposition.Ican’t imagine how they got by the last—what’s it been?Five?Tenyears?”

He scowled at her. “Howlong are you here for again?”Fourweeks was starting to feel interminable.

“Not long enough to be missed.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, and she looked away, like maybe she’d said it because it was the truth rather than to be mean.

“You ought to take your friend out tonight.She’llwant to hear the music.”

“Myfriendhas a name.Andshe’s fiercely independent.Ifshe wants to hear music, she will.Idon’t go out.”

“You andWeswent out last night.Lookedlike you even enjoyed yourselves.”

“I went under great duress and as a favor to her.”

Bryan snorted. “Forcedto endure an evening of wine and good food alongside my caterwauling.Absolutetorture.”

“The ultimate sacrifice,” she agreed.

“The music tonight’ll be authentic.Farmore agreeable.”

She shook her head. “I’vewasted my whole day.Ican’t waste my night too.”

Her assessment stung a bit if he was being honest.Wasted.Ofcourse she had, wasn’t he thinking as much himself?Hecouldn’t fathom why she’d joined him on his grandad’s roof to begin with.Henodded, offering her a wry smile. “Youmight be the only person in the world as actively disinterested in my father’s festival asIam.”

Lùc snickered. “Butyou both came here to be mad about it.”

“True,”Bryanagreed with is cousin. “Why’dyou enter that radio contest if you hateScotlandso much?”

“I don’t hateScotland.”

“You’re determined to avoid experiencing anything but bad karaoke in an average pub.”

“Oi!”Lùcasjumped in, insulted by either the slight against his singing or against theThreePuffins.

“I have a deadline,” she protested.

“Then why aren’t you home finishing your novel?Youcouldn’t defer the trip until you were ready to actually be here?”

“Why do you care?”

Why did he?

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