Page 8 of The Grump I Slept With
“Of course,” Isla said, grinning up at him. “I wouldn’t let you guys down. Plus, I needed an entire memory card just to capture Aisling in her dress. You’re going to have nine hundred photos to sift through. You’re welcome.”
Weston laughed. This wasn’t the sort of conversation you had with a vendor or even an acquaintance. “You’re…friends?” I asked, growing hot as I realized my error.
“Isla’s more of an honorary little sister at this point,” Weston said as he scooped Kenna into his arms. “C’mon, you. Aisling wants you to visit.”
Embarrassment prickled behind my ears as they walked off.That’swhy she’d been in such a rush to get down that road—because she had to get to Glenby to pick up memory cards to capture my best friend’s vow renewal. I’d obviously been a major arse, and that irritated me even more. I glared at her.
“What’s that look for?” she said.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me this was why you were rushing?”
“How was I supposed to know this was where you were headed? It’s not like you said, either. And anyway, when did you give me a chance to say much of anything? You were too busy ordering me to remove sheep from the road,” she pointed out.
I hated that she actually had a point. I hated even more that she clearly knew it.
3
ISLA
“Are you going to glare at me the entire time?” I asked lightly, my gaze flicking across the table. I’d parked myself in a chair for the last half hour, reviewing some of the photos I’d taken over the course of the evening. There were epic ones of Weston and Lena mid-kiss, adorable photos of Aisling giving a speech and endless snaps on the dance floor. I’d even managed to capture a cute one of Alistair grabbing Kenna before she could dive face-first into the chocolate fondue station. The father and daughter duo had called it a night shortly after that, leaving me at the table with Mr. Poshpants, who had shifted to the other side of the table like I had the plague.
“I’m not glaring,” Locke muttered. He was reclined in his chair, drink in hand, regarding me over the top of his glass.
“Brooding?” I lifted my camera and snapped a quick photo of him.
He grimaced, sipping his drink and waving me away. “You’re insufferable.”
“It’s my job,” I pointed out.
“To take photos of the happy couple,” he shot back. “Not me.”
“You’re a guest,” I said. “And IknowLena wants photos of the resident sheep whisperer.”
He grumbled something I couldn’t quite hear, clearly unamused.
His loss.Ithought I was hilarious. I took a sip of my whiskey.
“You know, the entire sheep debacle wasyourfault,” he said. “We both would have been out of there long before the sheep arrived if you’d just yielded to me from the start, like you should have.”
“What, so I could get stuck in the mud and leave Weston and Lena without a photographeragain?” I cried, holding up my camera.
Locke huffed, taking another swig of his drink. My gaze dropped to the glass—black rum floating on golden ginger beer—and my lips twitched.
“What?” he snapped.
“Nothing, it’s just…” I burst out laughing. “A dark-n-stormy for Mr. Storm Cloud over there. It’s very fitting.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re drunk,” he said.
“Bah! Not even close.” I picked up my glass again, pressing the cool rim to my bottom lip, watching the way his tongue darted out. I washed the strange fluttery sensation in my gut down with a gulp of whiskey.
“That flush in your cheeks says otherwise,” Locke said, pointing a finger at me. He had nice fingers. Nice hands, even.Wait…
I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t be looking at my flush.” My cheeksdidtend to get a little rosy a few drinks in, but with my tolerance, all that meant was that I was getting warmed up.
He opened his mouth to respond, hesitated, his eyes flicking to my mouth then away—as if catching himself wanting something he shouldn’t. My blush deepened as the corner of his mouth curled.
“Mind if I…” Locke got to his feet, picking up his glass, waltzing closer to me. He set his glass down by the chair next to mine, leaning against the table. He was close enough now I could smell the rum on his breath. As I held his gaze, heat prickled all over my body, but I refused to look away even as that warmth crept up my neck. No way was this grumpy businessman getting under my skin. I picked up my glass and downed the rest of my drink in one gulp. I let the alcohol settle, then pushed my glass away.
