Page 72 of Grace on the Rocks

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“Bryan sayshe hopes he didn’t wake you,”Westold her when she returned fifteen minutes later, toweling her wet hair.

“He didn’t.”Graceslapped her laptop shut. “Hewoke you.”

“Strangely didn’t seem as concerned about that,”Wesreplied. “ThoughImade it abundantly clear he owes me.ButsinceIowe him for last night, we’re even.”

Grace snorted.SheenviedWesley’seasy banter with men in general and this one in particular.Shepictured his biceps again, not wanting to think too hard about what her friend might demand as payback.

“You really don’t want to do anything to celebrate your big day?”Wesbegged.

Grace turned sideways in the chair to face her friend. “CreativeIceCreamFlavorsDay?”

Wesley grimaced. “SometimeinJuly.Itwas all very convenient.”

“AndPiñaColadaDay?”

“They were all real,Gray, just begging to be collected into one big theme for a party.”

“A theme for abirthdayparty.”

Wes shrugged. “Youwouldn’t have come otherwise.Areyou seriously mad we threw you a party a decade ago?”

“No.I’mnot mad about that.Becausethat would be insane.”

Unable to sit still any longer,Gracestrode into the living room, whereBryanand his cousin were surveying the almost completely destroyed wall.

“You guys mind ifIhave a go?” she asked, nodding to the sledgehammer.

“It’s heavy,”Bryanwarned as she hefted it over her shoulder and swung with all her might.

The wall exploded in a shower of dust.ThetwoScotsmenhad made so much progress thatGrace’sweak hit really did some damage, and she stood back, breathing heavily.

“Jesus,”Bryanwhispered.ToWeshe added, “Isshe mad at you or me?”

Grace didn’t hearWesley’sanswer.

“That felt good,” she said, rearing back for another go.SoBryanpointed out where to hit it, and this time the rest of the wall crumbled before her eyes, much to her disappointment because, left unchecked, she felt like she could mow down the whole damn house.

Lùcas stared at her with impressed surprise, asBryanrelieved her of the sledgehammer.

“What?” she asked, wiping her sweaty forehead on her arm.

Lùcas turned his shock on his cousin who shrugged and said, “Americans.”

When the dust settled, they were met with half a dozen angry glares from down the beach, where neighbors had gathered to watch the destruction.

“What the blazes are you thinking,RyanMacNeil?” an old man hollered. “Justyou wait ’til your daddy hears what you’ve done.”

“Aye, oldRob’llbe spinning in his grave again, sure enough,” a woman agreed. “Cursethe day you ever came back here.Youought to be ashamed.”

“Tearing down an island institution,” another shouted, shaking his head. “Norespect for anyone or anything.”

“And leading youngLùcasastray, as well.Doesyour mother know you’re here,LùcasBuchanan?”

Bryan stood fairly tongue-tied, andLùcasglowered red-faced at the floor.Gracefelt awful for them both.Usuallythey were full of teasing bravado and bluster, but the town reduced the two of them to a pair of kicked puppies with tails between their legs.

Not that she was any stranger to holding her tongue in the face of unfair accusations, but she was a woman, raised to mind her manners and her mouth.Shewas surprised to see the guys reacting this way.Shewanted to live vicariously whileBryanandLùcasset them all straight.Barringthat, she wanted to rage at the self-righteous islanders herself.

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