Page 91 of Grace on the Rocks

“Don’t venture too far out,” the old lady warned them. “Skiescan turn on a dime,” she added with a laugh before offering cheese and pickle sandwiches and two bottles ofIrn-Bru, which they accepted gratefully, before heading down to the water dragging the little boat between them.

“We’ll stay close to the shore,”Wessaid, unconvincingly. “Ifthe tides drift us over to the castle, what can we do?”

“Use the motor?”Gracemuttered.

“It’s the perfect day for an adventure,”Wesreplied sunnily, and they shoved the dinghy into the water. “Nothinglike a little excitement to help your writing process.”

Wesley’s determination to enjoy herself proved contagious, despiteGrace’sbad mood.Howcould she focus on her annoyance withBryanwhile enjoying the endless sunshine and the brisk morning air?Itwas a good reminder to get up from her keyboard and look around now and then.

“Bryan probably didn’t know we meant to take a boat with a motor,”Wessaid, getting that mischievous glint in her eye once again. “Heprobably thought we were going to try and row ourselves out to the castle.”Shescoffed. “Paddlesare for chumps!”

Grinning,Gracetugged the cord to start the engine.Theycould be there and back before anyone was the wiser.Atthe second yank it fired right up, and they headed out towards the middle of the bay.

After half an hour, though, the castle was still very far away, much further than it had seemed.Theyhad made it about halfway, and now they didn’t seem to be getting any closer.Theengine sputtered hard against the current, and a few clouds had blown in, beginning to obscure the azure sky.

“We probably should have launched from the ferry dock whereBryanmentioned the view,” she called over the little coughing motor.

“Probably,”Wesyelled. “Iguess we can let him gloat about it while we pick out a new place to stay.”

Grace’s stomach dropped. “Whatdo you mean?”

“The festival’s over.Roomswill be opening up.Youtwo clearly hate each other too much to get over it and get it on, soIfigured…”

“Oh.”

“Do you not want to?”Wesasked.

No.Gracewas finally writing again.Bryanhad become a part of the background noise, even something of a muse.Likenot shaving a playoff beard or changing your lucky socks, you don’t mess with a streak.

“Oh my god, then why don’t you two just bone already?”Wesdemanded, andGracecringed at the crude description of doing exactly what she’d been trying not to fantasize about for days.

“It’s not like that,” she argued feebly. “I’mnot like you.”

“So you thinkI’ma slut too?”Wesdemanded, a lot more pissed off thanGracewould’ve expected—despiteBryan’ssimilar reaction after she said basically the exact same thing to him.

“I never said you’re a slut.”

“You definitely implied it.”

“I’m really not trying to insult you here.”

“It kind of sounded like you were, though.”

“It’s a statement of fact.I’mnot judging.Ijust can’t have no strings, no emotions—Ican’t evenwithstrings and emotions!”

“Just so we’re clear, though, this thing withBryanwould def­initely be a case of the former, no emotions at all whatsoever?”Wesshouted sarcastically.

“There’s not,”Graceprotested.

“Excuse me,Iwas in the room this morning.Iliterally needed a shower to wash off all the pheromones you two were spewing at each other.”

“That is absolutely not true.He’sstill furious with me for turning him down last night, and honestly,I’mstill pretty pissed at him.”

“Since when do the two have to be mutually exclusive?Giventhe slightest encouragement, that man would have climbed you like a fireman’s pole.”

“I don’t think they climb?—”

“You know whatImean,Gray.Ifyou don’t want to bang him, what possible excuse do you have to stay?It’shis house.He’smaking an ever-loving racket.Youare a thousand percent in his way, and you both have deadlines.”

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