Chapter 10 #2
How the hell nature or nurture could explain him, I’d never managed to figure out.
But it’s not like I had to put much thought or energy into it.
Dad had made avoiding me into a personal hobby ever since Kincaid Energy’s board ousted him from his brief, disastrous tenure as CEO and passed the mantle on to me.
He seemed to think he was punishing me by giving me the cold shoulder, and I was happy to let him continue to think that if it meant we didn’t have to talk.
“Maybe I’ll get lucky and all of them will avoid talking to me.
Between him being pissed and Uncle Bryan being bitter that Grandad skipped over putting him in charge, I’m persona non grata as far as they’re concerned.
And Jasper’s bound to be ticked off that I got the inheritance instead of him, even though everyone’s always known I was the one closest to Grandad. ”
“Jasper alert!” Alistair whispered, walking up beside us. “He’s hanging around the kitchen, making a fuss about the sandwiches.”
Locke clicked his tongue in disgust. “What’s that whiny, spoiled bastard complaining about now?”
“Apparently the bread’s not soft enough.” Alistair shook his head. “I swear to God he’s a direct copy-paste of Bryan. It’s actually horrifying to think I could give Kenna any of my bad traits.”
“She probably won’t inherit your receding hairline,” Locke quipped. “I wouldn’t worry.”
Alistair jabbed him on the arm. “Take that back.” He swept his hands through his silky locks. “Aside from Kenna, my hair is the one good thing I have going for me right now.”
Locke and I exchanged worried looks. There was a heavy note in Alistair’s voice I’d never heard before.
While he never could have been described as a ball of sunshine, I was still used to him having a certain sense of decisiveness to him, a sense of purpose and drive as if he was doing exactly what needed to be done.
But now, he just seemed…lost. It worried the hell out of me.
But this wasn’t the time or place to unpack all of that. Locke seemed to agree, because he went right into “redirect and distract” mode. “Speaking of good things,” he said, plopping down on the step next to me. “Tell me how you got your assistant to marry you.”
“Temporarily,” I clarified. “And trust me, it was a hard-won battle.” I gave them a quick overview, promising to fill them in on the details later, when we were in the pub and away from this crowd.
“Who would have believed it?” Locke said. “Our little Weston. A married man.”
“You lucked out with her,” Alistair said, smiling at me as if he thought I couldn’t see the strain behind it.
I loved him for trying. That was Alistair—always showing up for the people he loved, no matter what it cost him.
“She’s the one who got Jasper to back down,” he continued.
“I’ve never heard someone sound so polite while telling someone else to fuck off. ”
“She’s good at that,” I said. “One of her specialties, in fact.”
“From practicing on you all these years?” Locke teased.
I gave him a wry grin.
“You know whose wife didn’t show up?” Alistair said. “Jasper’s. Which probably explains why he has time to complain about the bread.”
“Oh, please,” I said. “If she was here, they both would have been in there complaining.” She was just as, if not more, awful than Jasper. I feared for the world once they got around to having kids.
“And her voice,” Locke said. “It’s so grating. I don’t know how Jasper puts up with it, honestly.”
“Remember that year we had the Highland Camp and Grandad Pete came down and blasted us all out of bed at the crack of dawn with the bagpipes?” Alistair said. “That’s sort of what I imagine it’s like. But all the time—morning, noon, and night.”
Locke laughed. “Remember when we snuck into the main house to do the same to him a week later?”
I grinned at the memory. “I remember shoveling an awful lot of sheep shite as punishment.”
Alistair clapped his hands together. “Yes! Didn’t Locke slip in a giant pile?”
Locke shook his head, playing dumb. “I don’t recall any of this.”
“You did! We called you Shite Butt for the rest of camp.”
“You’re both bawbags, you know that?”
I laughed hard. It felt good to remember Grandad with them, even as it hurt too.
Missing someone while the rest of the world carried on was a difficult thing to explain, but I was so grateful that Grandad’s camp had brought us together all those years ago.
From ages eight to sixteen, our pranks had gotten progressively worse.
As did our punishments. But there was no one I would have rather had those experiences with than these two.
Our friendship was one of the mainstays in my life—and it meant more to me than ever today.
“It’s just soooo sad!” a voice cried. We looked up in time to see Mrs. Crawford stumble out of the dining hall, purse strung over her arm, a glass of something in hand.
“Christ. Looks like I’m not the only one who got into Grandad Pete’s good stuff,” Locke muttered.
“Where’s that poor boy?” she exclaimed. “Weston? Weston!”
“Bloody hell,” I said, launching to my feet. Getting caught in the arms of a drunk, blubbering neighbor was the last thing I needed today. “I’ll see you boys later.”
Locke snickered as I made a quick getaway, darting into the parlor, out another door, and finding myself in the library. It was blessedly empty, and I took a steadying breath.
Then a familiar voice caught my attention. I glanced toward a door leading to one of the exterior patios. It had been left ajar. Cigarette smoke wafted into the room, and through a slim window I could make out a few suits.
I wrinkled my nose as I drifted closer.
“His new bride is a bloody menace,” I heard Jasper hiss. “I just met her in the kitchen.”
I couldn’t help but smirk. Lena deserved a bonus after dealing with his whiny arse.
“Who is she anyway?” Uncle Bryan asked. “Who’s her family? Anyone important?”
“I have no idea,” Dad said. “I’m not even sure what her name was before the wedding. He certainly didn’t extend a wedding invite to me.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. As if he would have been at the top of my priority list even if it hadn’t been orchestrated solely for the will.
“I can’t believe he’s gotten the whole bloody thing,” Uncle Bryan continued. “He doesn’t even live here.”
Jasper sneered.
“Are you really surprised?” Dad said. “You know Dad always favored him.”
“Too bloody true,” Uncle Bryan complained. “It was totally unfair. Lochbrae should be Jasper’s. He’s the one who actually lives in the country.”
Dad hummed.
“You should have done more,” Uncle Bryan said. “You should have talked to Dad. Told him to stop doting on Weston the way he did.”
“You’re taking the piss,” Dad said, barking a laugh. “You think he’d have listened to me? He cut me out of the estate too. I’m the oldest son. Everything should have passed to me first.”
“I’m not leaving it like this,” Jasper said. “It’s not right.”
The ungrateful bastards. Sparks of anger shot along my jaw as my teeth clenched. On today of all days, when we’d just put the best man I’d ever met into the ground, all they could think about was themselves.
I turned around before the heat pulsing in my blood could get the better of me. Before I burst through that door and got in an argument with my pissy family. Today was about laying Grandad to rest, and I wasn’t going to get into petty disputes.
I stopped short, almost crashing into Agnes who was collecting empty sandwich plates.
Her lips were pinched, her nose turned up at the door, telling me she’d also heard everything. “How soon can I kick them out?” she asked. “They’re stinking up the place.”
“I always hope the trash sees itself out,” I muttered.
The corner of her mouth twitched, then she looked at me, hard. “Don’t listen to a word they say. Your grandfather did plenty for them over the years. Supported them even when they didn’t deserve it. You don’t owe them a thing.”
“I know,” I said. And I knew for a fact that he’d made more than generous allowances in his will for all of them. They weren’t walking away from this empty-handed, yet it still wasn’t good enough for them. “If they have an issue, they can take it up with the solicitor.”
“Speaking of,” Agnes said, dropping her voice. “I noticed Jasper left the graveside ceremony early. He walked away and got into a car while the rest of us were laying flowers.”
I frowned. “Where did he go?”
“Here,” she said. “Callum said he turned up at the property with some men in suits. And not funeral suits, if you get my drift.”
“Bloody hell. Can’t keep his greedy fingers under control for one damn day,” I said. Whatever the hell my cousin was up to, today was not the day.
“If you like, I can send the dogs out after them. We could scatter them in no time,” Agnes said, making me smile.
“Not sure I’d say yes, even if we had dogs, but I appreciate the offer.”
“Bonnie then. Perhaps a few nips to the arse will send them running back to their cars.”
I pretended to ponder that one, but it’d be just my luck she’d take a liking to my cousin. “If you see Callum, ask him to keep an eye on them and if Jasper returns to the house, I’d like a word with him.”
“Only if that word includes a stiff kick to the—”
“It doesn’t. At least, not yet,” I said, interrupting her and she nodded in return.
“I’m glad you ended up with a nice girl like Lena,” Agnes said, patting my arm as she led me from the room. “Lord knows we can’t handle any more arseholes in this family.”
“Hopefully this is the last we’ll see of them for a while,” I said.
Having to be in the same vicinity was unpleasant, but it reinforced in my mind that I’d done the right thing by marrying Lena.
Protecting Grandad’s memory, making sure Lochbrae was in good hands, getting this wind farm off the ground to support Braeburn—that was worth all the headaches and complicated emotions.
I was going to honor his legacy, and that meant making sure the estate never, ever fell into Jasper’s control.
“If not, I’m changing the locks,” Agnes joked before hurrying off with her dishes.
“You good?” Locke asked, chowing down on a sausage roll as he and Alistair returned to my side.
“Mrs. Crawford didn’t get you, did she?” Alistair asked. “We tried to redirect her.”
I shook my head. “Ran into the family instead.”
Locke grimaced. “Not sure which is worse.”
Before I could debate that, Lena walked up with a plate of food. “You haven’t eaten all day,” she said in that tone she reserved for judging my eating habits. “You forget to eat when you’re stressed. So I’ve made it easy for you.”
I stared down at the perfectly cut triangles. “Has Agnes been teaching you the fine art of the cheese and onion sandwich?”
“Wait until I show you my skills with a sausage butty tomorrow,” she said, giving me a wink.
I picked up a crustless triangle, arching my eyebrow in Lena’s direction.
She shrugged. “Agnes said you used to like your crusts cut off when you were a boy.”
I huffed and rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t deny that her care seeped between my ribs, warming something deep inside me.
“Awww,” Locke said, throwing his arm over my shoulders. “Look at you two.”
Lena smirked. “I take it these are the camp friends you’re always going on about?”
I nodded, introducing them.
Locke shook her hand first. “So, you’re the wife?”
“I’m the wife,” Lena agreed.
“Well, none of us envy you,” Alistair joked. “Weston’s a tough case.”
“I think I’ve got it handled,” Lena said. “I’ve become somewhat of an expert over the years.”
I knew it was all in jest, but I couldn’t help thinking how right it felt to watch her interact so naturally with my best friends from childhood. It felt good to have the three people I was closest to gathered together. A little circle of all the people I lo—
All the people I trusted most. Because that was what mattered.
Love was messy and brutal. Love was Alistair getting his heart and his reputation crushed by Jessica.
Love was Narissa, using her so-called broken heart as an excuse to drag me through the mud.
Love was my own parents, and their nasty, bitter divorce when I was twelve. Love was something I wanted no part of.
But trust…trust was real and precious. And these were the people I trusted most. That was all that mattered.