Page 36 of The Grump I Slept With
“Yeah!” Aisling cried suddenly, dragging a small pink roller suitcase into the kitchen. “Uncle Locke, come!”
“Do you really need all that?” Weston asked her, wincing as one of the suitcase wheels popped off. Aisling sat on the floor to fix it.
“It’s just my nail polish and my three best stuffies and my beads,” she said. She gave Weston a serious look. “Isla said we’re making friendship bracelets today.” She turned to me, elated. “And we’re gonna paint our nails! Isla always paints cute flowers for me.”
She stood, taking my hand and inspecting my nails.
“Hmm…You need a manicure.”
Lena snorted.
“You’ll come, won’t you, Uncle Locke?” Aisling said, hitting me with her best pout.
“Oh, not the lip,” Weston said. “Now you’re done for.”
“Please, please,pleaseeeeee,” Aisling begged, that little lip trembling.
I bit my cheek to keep from smiling. There was no way out of this now—not without disappointing Aisling, andthatoption was unacceptable. “Let me go reschedule some meetings, okay?” I’d been working remotely from Weston’s until the deal with the distillery went through. “Then I’ll meet you down at the inn.”
Aisling squealed, racing around the island once before throwing herself at me. She wrapped her arms around my neck, then pecked my cheek.
Lena smiled softly at us. “Love, let Uncle Locke go. He can’t breathe.”
She released me, rushing to drag her suitcase to the front door. “I have glitter nail polish!” she shouted. “You can use it first!”
I rubbed my ear, wincing. “That squeal breaks the sound barrier.”
Weston nodded in agreement. “I’ve gone deaf in one ear since becoming a foster dad.”
When I showed up at the Deerhound an hour later, Isla was behind the check-in desk, welcoming a couple to the inn. I watched her for a beat, admiring her easy charm, the warmth with which she spoke, that beautiful smile. I imagined her staring down at our child with that same smile, and my chest clenched.
Her eyes flickered up, her gaze landing on me. That smile curled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. Maybe she was happy to see me? She inclined her head slightly, directing me toward where Aisling was seated on the cozy sofa beneath the waterfall painting. I made my way over there.
She had a coloring book in her lap, two stuffed animals watching from the arm of the sofa, and about three hundred markers spread out on the coffee table. Was this my future? God, I couldn’t wait.
Aisling looked up, her eyes widening in excitement. “Uncle Locke!” Markers tumbled off the sofa as she jumped up to hug me. “You came!”
“I did,” I said, sinking down beside her, rescuing markers from the floor. “What are we working on?”
“Mermaids,” she said, showing me the page in her coloring book. “Auntie Isla says she has to finish a check-in, then we can donails.” She gestured to an uncolored page. “You can start that picture. Don’t get any colors on my side, though.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I picked up a blue marker. Aisling immediately stopped me, giving me a dubious look. She handed me a pink marker instead and prodded the mermaid tail.
I tried not to laugh. She was already becoming a mini-Lena.
While we completed the very important task of coloring mermaids, I watched Isla work. It was incredible how many things the woman could do in fifteen minutes: greet guests, answer the phone, book reservations, dart upstairs to strip a bed, start the laundry, get someone a cup of tea, check on Aisling, call for a delivery. She was a whirlwind. She was amazing.
“Oh, Maisie,” Isla called, catching her assistant on her way up the stairs. “I just threw the sheets from room five into the wash. Could you toss them into the dryer when they’re finished?”
Maisie nodded. “Sure thing. I also took a reservation while Weston and Lena were dropping off Aisling. Looks like we’re all booked up for next weekend.” Isla smiled at the news, looking pleased.
Ranger padded through the lobby, coming over to give me a sniff. His tail wagged, flicking markers from the coffee table.
“Ranger!” Aisling said, laughing. “Silly boy.” She ditched her coloring in favor of throwing her arms around the dog’s neck. “We should have brought Milo so they could play.”
“I’m not sure the inn is big enough for two dogs of that size,” I pointed out.
“Yes, it is,” Aisling argued. “Ranger fits here, see!” She directed the dog onto the sofa between us, and suddenly I had giant paws in my lap and a scruffy tail in my face.
