Page 78 of Grace on the Rocks

Had it been a truly terrible mistake, coming home and changing everything?Knockingdown that wall like it would somehow set him free?WouldGrandadhave wanted the house enshrined in history, unchanged for evermore as the neighbors seemed to think?

Don’t ever let them make you doubt yourself, lad, his grandfather’s voice came to him once more, as though through a portal to the past, staticky, like they were talking down the phone line.Youknow what you’re about.

He’d said those words when the town had laughed atBryan’sbig ideas for recycling, reducing carbon footprints, and saving the bees.He’dused the same words again whenBryanconfessed he might like boys as well as girls.Savingthe world and saving himself,Grandadtook it all in stride.Thesame advice applied because it was all just part of living.

SoBryandid as he’d done the day he left the island.Hesquashed his doubts down deep and got himself dressed, everything else be damned.

He looked like a complete tosser in his white button-down shirt, charcoal waistcoat, and matching skinny tie, with the blue and green kilt and flashes on his knee-high socks.He’ddebated the flashes when he found them in his grandad’s drawer.Werethey too much?

It was all too much.

Turning up the sleeves to expose his tattoo felt more natural.Heripped off the tie so his collar could hang open leaving his throat unconstricted, and he kicked off the stodgy dress shoes, pulling on his favorite tall boots instead.Notexactly traditional, but they made him feel more himself.Heleft the flashes on as a concession toGrandad.

When he emerged from his room, theAmericanswere stepping out of theirs as well, and for a moment they all stood in the hallway gawping at each other.

It was definitely too much.

He shifted nervously, resisting the urge to dart back inside and change into jeans and a leather jacket.Hishand clenched reflexively, seeking the familiar old worry stone.Whenwould it accept the thing was gone just like his grandfather, nothing left but echoes and memories?

“Wow,”Wesleysaid, breaking the awkward staring contest. “Youclean up nice.”

Bryan’s face heated, but he cleared his throat. “Youtoo.Andyou,” he added, darting a shuttered glance towardsGrace.Shewas resplendent, actually, in a soft cream sweater and silky tartan skirt that hugged all the right curves in all the right ways.Suddenlyhis collar felt too tight again.

“This old thing?”Wesasked, indicating her own lightweight summer dress, a pale-yellow sleeveless number with stitched poppies sprinkled liberally along the hem.Shelooked cute, but she was going to freeze unless she planned to steal another jumper offEòghann. “Iwas hoping you might have a bit of plaid lying aroundIcould use as a wrap,” she admitted, as though reading his mind.

“Eòghann will know someone who does,” he said, pretending not to noticeWesley’sblush before he sent his cousin a text.

* * *

The hall wasa crush of flushed strangers drunk on their last night of vacation and islanders who’d knownBryansince infancy.Whenthe three of them stepped inside, the very air seemed to thicken around them, clogging his throat so he could hardly breathe, let alone speak.

He powered forward withWesleyon one arm andGraceon the other, telling himself heads kept turning their way because the ladies looked so incredible and not because of him, the prodigal son walking among them once more.Hispulse sped up anyway, and sweat began to slick his back and palms.Heshould have left the damn waistcoat at home.

“You almost look respectable with these two on your arm,”Teàrlachsaid, approaching with a broad grin. “Ihope you don’t plan to keep them all to yourself.”

“Teàrlach!”Graceexclaimed, droppingBryan’sarm and gripping his cousin’s hand instead. “It’sso nice to see you again.”

“Likewise,”Teàrlachagreed, smiling up at her, andBryanremembered with a pang how they shared a history at the wedding he’d avoided like a coward. “Ifly at daybreak, so if you want to spend another evening teetotaling in the corner being snarky about the drunks, say the word,” he told her with a wink, eliciting a laugh that madeBryan’sstomach do stupid things. “Eòghann’slooking for you,”Teàrlachadded toWesley.

“I meant to bring back his sweater, butIforgot,” she confessed, overly loud to compensate for the fiddle and pipe band and perhaps for the obvious lie.EvenAuntieEilidhhad to knowEòghannwould never see his jumper again.

Bryan scanned the room for his older cousin and spotted him on the other side, his gaze already fixed onWes.

“Hiding in the corner might be wise.”Grace’svoice dragged him back to the conversation at hand. “Thesepeople look like they know what they’re doing.”

“No harder than line dancing.Isn’tthat a requirement where y’all come from?”Bryandrawled, and she glanced up at him sharply, her eyes full of both amusement and challenge.

“A rare joke from theStoicScot,” she teased.

“Christ, is that my new nickname?” he asked. “Iassure you,Iwas quite s-serious,” he added, eyes still locked on hers, hoping his falter on theSsounded intentional.Ifshe noticed it, she didn’t let on.

“You requested a wrap,”Eòghannsaid, extending a length of gold and redBuchananplaid toWesley.

It was a perfect match for her dress, andBryansmirked at his cousin.

“Thank you,” she whispered, reaching reverently towards the soft, vibrant fabric.Therewas no wayEòghannwas getting that back either.It, like his jumper, would be flying coach back toTennesseeone day all too soon.

“Allow me,”Eòghannmurmured, unfurling the yard of plaid and draping it aroundWesley’sshoulders, inhaling the scent of her pinned-up hair as he did.