Page 90 of The Grump I Slept With
“I don’t want that for you,” Dad continued. “Especially since you’re about to have a son of your own.” He looked into my eyes, and for the first time in my life, I could see the loneliness clearly. It was the same expression I saw these days when I looked at myself in the mirror. “Learn from my example,” he said. “Don’t be like me. Bebetterthan me.”
My jaw trembled as I nodded. I wanted to be a good man, a good father. A good partner. But did I even know what that looked like? And if I could figure it out, would Isla be willing to see it?
“What if it’s too late?” I asked, voice thick.
“All you can do is try,” Dad said, his hand tightening on my shoulder. “Teach your son not to shut himself away from those that matter most. Give him that example to follow.”
“Okay,” I said. Dad was right. No more hiding. No more distractions. It was time to risk my heart for the woman I loved.
28
ISLA
Iplopped myself down on the couch in the library at Lochbrae, squirming as my sweater rode up, exposing the bottom of my belly.
Lena snorted, walking in behind me with a tea tray featuring Agnes’s cheese scones. If one thing could get me out of the inn these days, it wasthosescones. “Having some technical difficulties?”
“I swear this fit yesterday,” I complained, tugging my sweater back into place. “This kid’s going through some sort of growth spurt.”
“Well, don’t be surprised if all you get for Christmas is maternity clothes,” Lena joked, setting down the tray between us. “I heard we’re in for a cold January. Apparently, we’re going to get a ton of snow.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Which weather presenter have you been listening to?”
“All I’m saying,” Lena said, “is that you’re going to need clothes that actually cover your belly or baby boy is going to freeze. Hey, what about a shopping trip before the holidays?”
“Mmm…” My eyes darted to the massive Christmas tree that had been erected in the corner of the library. It was one of several trees that had sprung up around the estate in recent weeks. No one could say the Kincaids weren’t in the holiday spirit. Even Milo and Bonnie were running around the grounds with ribbons attached to their collars. I really needed to get Ranger a cute Christmas sweater or something. “Cat keeps trying to get me to go down to the shops in Edinburgh, but I just…” I wrinkled my nose. Between Locke and my father, that was the last city I wanted to visit, even for a shopping trip. “I’m not really in the mood.”
Lena hummed. “That’s fair. We could always pop down to London.” She wiggled her eyebrows at the idea. “Take the jet before you’re not allowed to fly anymore. I’ve heard you’re quite a fan of the ice cream Weston keeps stocked in the plane’s galley.”
A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “I’ll give it some thought. Is Aisling still on the hunt for her Christmas presents?” I asked.
“She checks around the trees every morning,” Lena said, sitting down in one of the wingback chairs. “And everywhere else she can think of. Weston pulled her out from under our bed the other day. She claimed she was looking for Milo.” Lena shook her head, laughing. “The only bonus to Lochbrae being this massive is the sheer number of hiding places. That girl is determined.”
“I bet Weston’s hidden them out in the barn with the sheep.”
“That actually was one of his original ideas,” Lena said, grinning. “But Aisling spends too much time out there. I can’t lie, it’s been really fun seeing how excited she is for the holidays.”
“I think kids make Christmas more magical,” I agreed.
“Next year, you’ll have your own little bundle to make magic for,” Lena pointed out. “He’ll even be big enough to enjoy it.”
“Oh God,” I said, pressing my hand to my forehead. I slumped back against the couch cushion, a little awestruck. “I can’t believe I’ll have an almost-nine-month-old this time next year.”
Lena looked thrilled by that fact. “He’ll be crawling by then. We won’t be able to put any ornaments on the bottoms of trees. At least not anything breakable.”
“We’ll have to wrangle the kids into matching outfits for Santa pictures down at the pub,” I said. I actually couldn’t wait.
“Weston wants to have a tiny sleigh made for Bonnie to pull around the grounds.”
I gave Lena a pointed look. “He’s out of his mind if he thinks I’m putting my son in any contraption with Bonnie on the other end.”
Lena barked a laugh. “That’s what I told him! But he’s convinced it’s a brilliant idea.”
The moment grew quiet, contemplative, and I knew we were both envisioning Lochbrae next year, packed with loved ones—our chosen family. Me and my baby boy. Agnes. Callum and Maisie. Alistair and Kenna. I supposed Locke would be there, too, if he could pry himself away from work long enough to bother. He was still one of Weston’s longtime best friends afterall. But we wouldn’t be theretogether. I supposed that’s what our life would be now—forever orbiting, never connecting.
The warmth in my chest dimmed, and I swore under my breath, pissed that I was still letting Locke mess with my heart. That I was still letting myself miss him. Lena tilted her head, regarding me. “You okay?”
I shook off the melancholy. “Yeah.” I picked up my tea and took a sip. “How’s the adoption going? Is everything still on track for that?”
