Page 7 of The Grump I Married
“I know,” I said, a sharp wave of grief flaring in my chest. I’d been so busy trying to sort things since I’d found out about the heart attack, I’d hardly taken a moment to feel the weight of Grandad’s loss. “It doesn’t feel real,” I admitted. “Part of me still thinks I’m going to turn up at Lochbrae and find him going off for a stalk.”
Locke laughed softly. “Dressed in his tweed.”
“Wellies on.” I’d never been much for deer hunting, but it was a very traditional upper-class pursuit, especially in the Highlands. And Grandad had loved his tradition.
“He was a good man,” Locke said.
“He was.” And he meant a lot to both of us. Lochbrae had been a safe place to land after my parents’ divorce, and when everything else was so uncertain, Grandad had always been there for me. I swallowed down a surge of emotion. It stuck uncomfortably in my chest, and I knuckled the space between my ribs.
“When’s the funeral?” Locke asked.
“Several days still. I have to sort it with the funeral director. But don’t trouble yourself if you’ve got?—”
“Don’t be daft,” Locke said, cutting me off. “Alistair and I will both be there. We wouldn’t miss it. You know how much Grandad Pete meant to us both.”
I swallowed hard, glad that time and distance and the responsibilities that came from running businesses hadn’t worn away at the rock-solid friendship the three of us had formed as boys.
“We’ll lay him to rest,” Locke said. “And then hit the pub in Braeburn. Send him off with a pint.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s what he always said he wanted.”
“Is it just the funeral that has you sounding so knackered?” Locke asked.
I rubbed my eyes. “No…I got off the phone with Grandad’s solicitor not long ago.”
“Talking about the will?”
“Aye, what a nightmare.”
“It can’t be that bad,” Locke said.
I barked a humorless laugh. “Apparently, I need to be married in order to secure my inheritance.”
“Bloody hell,” Locke said. “You’re joking?”
“A wife, can you believe it?” I ran my hand down my face. “I’ve already tried every workaround I can think of, but the solicitor is adamant that I need to be married or I forfeit Lochbrae.”
“What kind of timeframe are you working with?” Locke asked.
“A little less than a month.”
Locke laughed. “Fuck me. Yeah, that sounds like your grandad. He was never subtle about his meddling.”
I groaned. It sounded worse every time I said it out loud.
“So what are you going to do?”
“Find a bride, I suppose. What other choice do I have? I’m not lettingJasperend up with the estate. Because if I don’t meet the terms, the property defaults to him.”
“If he does get it, what happens to the wind farm?” Locke asked.
“There will be no wind farm,” I said. “You know what he’s like.”
“Yeah, a little weasel,” Locke agreed.
“He’d turn around, chop up the property, and sell it off to the highest bidder.” A band of discomfort wrapped around me. I couldn’t lose Lochbrae to my cousin. It would be a total betrayal of everything Grandad and I had been working on. Everything he’d trusted me with.
“Jasper always did know how to ruin a good thing.”
