4. Locke
LOCKE
“Iknow you didn’t quite fancy the last property,” said the estate agent—an overly cheery woman named Angela. “But this next one is gorgeous if I do say so myself.”
I’d be the judge of that. Especially since she’d used almost the same words to describe a farmstead for sale between Braeburn and Glenby that had turned out to be a total disaster.
I needed a new deal to improve the optics of Fraser Developments, and the idea of helping the small-town community I loved was a no-brainer.
But Fraser Developments was known for buying up prime coastal land and flipping derelict properties into luxury resorts.
When we’d arrived to find the farmstead’s fields flooded, I knew the only thing I’d be building out there was a swimming pool.
I’d always had my father’s sharp eye for spotting good property, and I could see in a heartbeat that the farmstead was not a good fit for my company.
Weston nudged me from the back seat of the vehicle, inclining his head in Angela’s direction.
“Aye,” I said, realizing I hadn’t responded.
“Can’t wait to see it.” I’d come all the way back to Braeburn four weeks after Weston’s vow renewal at his suggestion, hoping to snatch up the perfect property.
But the few we’d visited had left me feeling lukewarm at best. I needed this next project to be a winner if I was going to rebuild the company’s reputation after our recent disappointment.
“Oh, here we are now,” Angela said, pulling into a gravel lot.
She parked, and I got out, staring up at the old MacRae distillery, a picturesque combination of rusty red brick and ivy curling toward the sun.
Weston came up beside me. “What do you think?” he asked.
“Huh,” I said, a warm, tingly sensation filling my gut. It wasn’t quite the butterflies I wanted. Not yet. But it was more feeling than any of the other properties had given me.
“This way,” Angela called, holding up a key. “I’ll give you a quick tour.”
I hurried after her, walking through the front door of the building.
The space was filled with dust—a lot of it.
Sunlight streamed in through shattered windowpanes.
Old furniture littered corners. And there were crumbling bits of plaster all over the floor.
But as I turned in a small circle, inhaling the old sweetness of the place, I felt certain we had a winner.
Now this was the potential I was talking about.
“It needs some work,” Angela admitted before adding quickly, “but out back the view is lovely, and you get all that land.” She waved us on.
Weston and I followed her into the garden. The grass was overgrown, but beyond it was a worn path. I could hear the rush of the creek.
“I won’t take you all the way,” Angela said, stopping at a fork in the path, “because it’s quite a hike, but if you just go down there to that lookout point, you can see the far side of the waterfall.”
Waterfall? Right, yes. I navigated my way down to the lookout where someone had built a wooden railing.
I leaned against it, staring out at the scenery, remembering how Isla had gushed about how beautiful this place was.
She’d been absolutely right. I thought that picture in the lobby of the Deerhound had embellished the sight, but no. It really was that gorgeous.
I inhaled deeply. With the rush of the water and the twittering of the birds, a person could really let go here. It could be the perfect retreat—a place to relax, to rest and heal, surrounded by beautiful nature—while enjoying top-notch luxury accommodations, of course.
“It’s perfect,” I said to Weston.
“Perfect enough to buy?”
I nodded, no hesitation. When I wanted something, I went for it.
No questions asked. And I wanted this place.
Just from the initial walkthrough, I could tell it was meant to be a luxury hotel and spa.
The kind that would put Braeburn on the map, get influencers talking, and have waiting lists a mile long. I could feel it in my bones.
This was Fraser Development’s next big project.
Weston clapped me on the back. “Guess that means Aisling is going to be seeing more of her Uncle Locke.”
“Guess so,” I said, following him back up the trail to Angela.
“Now, there is still the Lawton place on our list,” Angela said when she spotted us, reviewing the listing on her phone. “It’s a bit farther out of town, and the structure itself is rather small, but maybe you’ll be inspired.”
I shook my head. “No need to keep looking, Angela.” I caught her by the shoulders, turning her back toward the distillery building. “This is the one. I’m gonna call it the Highland Haven.”
Weston hummed.
I waved him off. “I’ll work on the name.”
“How lovely,” Angela said, sounding as ecstatic as I felt. “Shall I start the process and have the paperwork drawn up?”
“Yes.” Signed. Sealed. Delivered. I wanted ownership of this property yesterday. This was the deal that would put my company back on top. I could already envision the rave guest reviews pouring in.
“Just FYI,” Weston said as we reached the car. “You might not be the only one making a bid for this place.”
My stomach dropped as I glanced at him. “Is there already competition?”
He lifted his shoulder. “Rumor has it some industrialist wants the property to build a factory.”
“And is the town behind the idea?” I asked.
Weston wriggled his hand back and forth in a so-so motion. “Some yes, some no,” he replied. “There’s been a fair amount of arguing about it. A factory would bring a lot of jobs to the area, but it would also steamroll all those trails and trees and—”
“Ruin the natural beauty,” I said. Frustration beat at my temples. No damn industrialist was going to come in here and lay down an ugly factory, spewing smoke into the sky, when I had a much more brilliant plan. A plan that could bring just as many opportunities to the town without the drawbacks.
“I don’t know how serious he is,” Weston continued. “But if the rumors are true, you’re going to have to convince the seller.”
“Well, good thing I like a challenge,” I said, already hungry for the win.
Weston’s estate, Lochbrae, was a sprawling property bordering the coastline at the edge of town.
It had once belonged to Weston’s grandparents and was now where he oversaw Kincaid Energy’s wind farm project.
As we drove up the winding drive, pastures of sheep and cattle whizzed by along with memories of summers spent running through the Highlands in our wellies.
We rounded the final bend in the drive, and I spotted a familiar car as we pulled up in front of the castle Weston called home. The first time I’d seen that car, it had spiked my blood pressure. It had a similar effect now, but from anticipation rather than aggravation.
Isla.
After our fiery night together, we’d parted ways with no regrets. We’d both known the score, and neither of us had expected anything more than a single night. But what a night it had been! If she was interested, I’d be more than happy to have another romp with her.
Between finding the perfect property and running into her again, this just might be my lucky day.
“I didn’t know Isla was dropping by,” Weston murmured. “Lena didn’t say anything.”
“Does she drop by a lot?”
Weston shrugged. “Lena meets her for tea nearly every week, though they’re more likely to get together in town than here. But she likes to bring Ranger by to hang out with Milo sometimes. And Aisling adores her.”
We climbed out of the car, heading toward the house. The door flew open before we reached it. Aisling raced past with Milo and Ranger, hardly paying us any attention.
“Hello?” Weston called after her.
“Oh, hiya, Weston!” Aisling called, running backward as she waved.
“She’s on a mission,” Lena said, stepping outside, smiling fondly after the trio.
“Hello, wife,” Weston said, pecking her on the lips. “What kind of mission?”
“Top secret,” Isla said as she appeared next to Lena. She was wearing jeans and a low-cut shirt that showed off an enticing sliver of skin. I only managed to pull my eyes away from it when she said, “Hey, Locke.”
I smiled politely in her direction. “Hello.”
“Everyone staying for tea?” Weston asked.
“Actually, Locke,” Isla said, the tops of her cheeks pinking a bit, “do you mind if I have a quick word with you? Alone?”
“Oh, er, sure,” I said, shrugging when Weston caught my eye. Isla gestured down the driveway a bit.
“We’ll see you inside,” Weston called as I followed Isla down toward her car.
When I caught up with her, I noticed that she looked anxious, her brows drawn together. I couldn’t figure out what she could possibly want to talk about. She didn’t look like she was excited to see me again. If anything, she looked nervous. But what could she have to be nervous about?
“How, uh, are you?” she asked, sounding a little awkward.
“Good, good,” I said, mulling over the sudden uncertainty that floated between us. “Honestly, I didn’t expect to see you here, but it’s certainly a welcomed surprise.”
Her mouth opened, then closed. The color in her cheeks darkened.
It wasn’t the first time I’d left a woman speechless, but it usually took a little more than pleasantries.
Was she looking for another night together?
I wasn’t sure why that would make her nervous, but maybe she worried about being too eager?
“Look, Locke…” Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.
“Hey,” I said softly, hoping to put the woman out of her misery because I, for one, was more than happy to get reacquainted with those curves.
“It’s cool. I know we said it was just one night, but if you want to pick up where we left off, I’m certainly not opposed to the idea.
” Maybe this time we could skip all the sheep and shouting.
Isla snorted. “That’s definitely not why I’m here. Can you just focus for a minute with the head attached to your neck?”
I jerked back. Okay, the attitude was unnecessary. “We’re both adults here. I think we can admit that we had fun. No need to dress it up with insults.”
“My God, Locke.” She exhaled sharply, crossing her arms. “You’re very full of yourself, you know that?”
I liked to think I was confident and skilled when it came to pleasing women. Not that I should have to explain that to her. I frowned, shaking my head. “Why else would you be lying in wait here to talk to me?”
“I wasn’t lying in wait for you!” she snapped.
I glanced at my phone. “Isla, I don’t have time for these games. I have to make some phone calls about a property. So if you could just tell me what you want from me—”
“Gah!” she cried, throwing her hands up and startling me. “Firstly, I’m not here to solicit you, you daft idiot! And secondly, could you stop thinking about work for one second? I’m trying to tell you I’m pregnant.”
My jaw dropped. She had to be taking the piss.
I felt like one of those cartoon characters when they got bopped on the head and the stars started spinning before their eyes. “You’re…what?” My hand darted out for her, looking for something to ground me. Nothing felt real. “Could you repeat that?”
“I’m pregnant. With your baby,” she added, gesturing wildly between us. “In case that wasn’t clear. I’m not here for a social call, Locke. I’m here to let you know you’re going to be a father.”
Bloody fucking hell.
I was stunned into silence as I replayed her words in my head.
Baby…father…pregnant? Surely, I’d just hallucinated her words.
That was the only explanation that made sense.
Because there was no way in hell she was actually pregnant with my baby.
We’d only been together one night. And we’d used a condom. Right?
I frowned.
Didn’t we?
I tried to think back through the alcohol-induced haze. Through the heated touches and the way she’d moaned my name and the—
Yes! There’d been a condom. So when the hell had a baby entered the equation? “But we…we used—”
“Protection?” she finished for me. “Yes. And it was apparently ninety-eight percent effective, just like the box said.”
My eyes were bugging out of my head.
My face must have looked like a horror show, because the corners of her mouth turned down. “It’s a baby, not an alien. People make them all the time. You don’t have to look that alarmed.”
I was alarmed. Very, very alarmed. But every time I tried to open my mouth to say something coherent or supportive or just…anything, my throat constricted a little more.
“This is the part where you say something,” she said, her expression hardening.
I was trying.
“Literally anything would be great right about now,” she continued.
“Do you not have a single question for me? Like ‘Oh, Isla, but how do you know you’re pregnant?’ And to that I would say, ‘Gee, if the missed period, fatigue, and tender breasts weren’t a dead giveaway, coming back positive on three separate pregnancy tests would’ve firmed it up. ’”
She stared at me like she was trying to peer past my skull to the place my thoughts churned out. I might have made a noise—a hum or a pained grunt—but I couldn’t be sure.
Isla threw her hands up again. “Really, you can’t muster one productive thing to say?
” She waved me off with a click of her tongue.
She sounded angry, but I saw the disappointment on her face before she could hide it.
“Whatever. I wasn’t expecting anything from you anyway.
” She turned on her heel, storming back toward that tiny hunk of junk she called a car, spitting over her shoulder.
“Just thought you’d want to know.” Her voice pitched up into a yell. “Ranger, let’s go!”
My kid. Me, a dad? I tried imagining a tiny bundle in my arms—a son or a daughter. My heart pounded at the base of my throat, and all the words dried up on the back of my tongue.
“But I can see that anything more than sheep is too much for you!” Isla yelled as she wrenched her car door open, waiting as Ranger dashed across the property and dove inside. She climbed in and slammed the door closed, reversing halfway down the driveway before I could even yell wait!