7. Isla #2
Jo was still mesmerized by the ring. “I had no idea you were even seeing anyone. Not since your last disastrous courtship.”
Locke’s eyebrow arched in question. Bah! Now was not the time to bring up the freeloading ass who’d started dating me shortly after I’d moved to Scotland. I gave Locke a look that hopefully said focus and plastered a smile on my face. “Oh, well, you know, we kept this private and—”
“I’m away for work so often,” Locke cut in. “Traveling and whatnot.”
“Yes,” I said, squeezing his hand. “We’ve really learned how to make long distance work.”
“But when you know, you know,” he said, looking down at me adoringly.
“And when exactly did you two meet?” Jo asked, her eyes narrowing.
Fuck. I looked at Locke, trying not to actively panic. Why hadn’t we talked about this? It was a basic question that everyone would ask, but we hadn’t even discussed a timeline at all.
Locke tried to recover, giving her his most-charming smile. “Weston introduced us ages ago,” he said.
But Jo’s lips pressed into a line, like she was trying to size us up. “So, you didn’t meet at—”
Shit, here it comes. I braced myself for another question we didn’t have a prepared answer to.
But before she could finish her question, a hideous yowl sounded. One of the lanky tuxedo cats had slipped through the door of the cat room and darted across the café, making a run for the exit.
“Mr. Mistoffelees!” Cat cried at the top of her lungs, glasses rattling as she dropped her dish tray to chase after him. “Get back here!”
Suddenly everything was chaos. Guests tried to nab the terrified cat, knocking into tables, rattling cutlery.
A couple of kids joined the chase, laughing up a storm.
Mr. Mistoffelees howled in fear, attempting to climb the bookshelf.
By the time Cat finally rescued him, she looked a little haggard.
“Everything’s okay,” she announced to the room, kissing Mr. Mistoffelees on the head.
“He just doesn’t like the sound of the coffee grinder. Everyone go about your business.”
Thankfully, Jo had moved on to a new topic of interrogation, having seemingly forgotten what she was going to say before.
“So, Locke,” she said. “A little birdie told me you’re in the market for the old MacRae distillery.”
“And which birdie would this be?” Locke asked playfully. “Let me guess, Angela?”
“We go way back,” Jo said, waving him off. It wasn’t a surprise. Jo knew everyone. Of course she knew Locke’s estate agent. “I’m sure the entire town would be interested to hear what Fraser Developments has in store for the land should the sale swing your way.”
“Is this an interview for the paper?” Locke teased.
Jo rubbed at her chin. “It can be. If I’m getting an inside scoop.”
“How about just a few words between friends?”
I bit my lip. Phrasing it that way might keep it out of the paper, but there was no way anything he told her was staying just between them, and we both knew it.
“My hope is actually to build a luxury hotel and spa.”
“Really?” Jo said, clicking her tongue. “And you think that’s what Braeburn needs more than a factory?”
“Absolutely,” Locke said, passion creeping into his voice.
“The town needs a business that can bring stability and longevity without disrupting the natural order. The hotel brings the best of both worlds. It provides local jobs, increases tourism to the area, but also preserves more of the natural habitat, making sure it’s available to be seen and appreciated for generations to come. ”
Jo hummed, intrigued.
“Preserving the space my mother loved so much is really important to us,” I added.
A smile flitted across Jo’s face. “I remember your mother and her paintings. Aileen always did have a gift for capturing the natural beauty of a place. It’s no wonder her art touched people around the world. She’d be really proud to hear what you’re both trying to do.”
Emotion surged through me momentarily, and I fought off the pressure behind my eyes.
“Jo!” Cat called from the counter, “I’ve got that scone you wanted. Sorry it took so long. I didn’t expect to have an escape attempt.”
Jo turned away for a beat, collecting her plate from Cat.
Locke tugged on my arm, his eyes wide. “Your mother is Aileen MacRae?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Well, you said she was an artist, but I didn’t realize she was famous. Like, one of the great-modern-Scottish-artists famous. I’ve bid on her stuff for some of my properties before.” He shook his head. “Wait, is that waterfall painting in the lobby of the inn one of hers?”
“It’s probably my favorite that she ever did,” I told him.
“That’s what made me want to buy the property in the first place. The way you talked about that painting.” His brow lifted, impressed. “That kind of beauty really is something more people should get to experience.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying.”
“No, I mean it,” he said, excited and surprisingly sincere. “If I get the property, I intend to bring in a proper landscape architect who will ensure the grounds are properly preserved. Maybe Kate Orff or Michel Desvigne.”
I had no idea who they were, but they sounded expensive. “You’d do that? It wasn’t part of our deal.”
“I know,” he said. “But I want to make sure we’re taking care of the land in the right way. A way that would have made your mother proud.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Jo returned to the conversation. “So, you think the hotel could be very impactful for Braeburn?”
“I do,” Locke said, sipping his Americano.
“And I think that value goes beyond just adding some jobs to the area. I want to invest in Braeburn’s prosperity for the coming years.
It’s a self-perpetuating cycle, where people of means come to town for the resort, which leads to them getting to know Braeburn and seeing its charms, which leads to more people coming—helping the bottom line of the resort but also the businesses in town, who’ll get their share of the tourist dollars. A rising tide lifts all boats.”
“So, you’re looking to do more than just maximize your revenues?” Jo said.
“I’d never want to profit off of a place in some zero-sum game where me winning means that everyone else loses.
That’s no way to run a business, or to live a life.
” Locke looked pensive for a beat. “You know, I inherited this company from my father,” he said.
“And I’ve been at this long enough to know I want to leave behind a legacy worth remembering.
I want to ensure that I take good care of the properties we develop, so they can be passed on to my children one day.
” He glanced at me, his look weighted. “Our children.”
I smiled at that. Maybe there was more to Lachlan Fraser than just the cutthroat real estate developer, prepared to do anything—including lock down a fake fiancée—to make a deal.
But then again, maybe this flutter I was feeling was nothing more than morning sickness. Not a sign at all.
Jo nudged me with her elbow. “I think you’ve got a good one this time, lass.
You were smart to have picked someone more mature this time around.
” The ache of old embarrassment filled my chest, and I tried to beat the memory of Declan away.
Bad choice. Lesson learned. I didn’t need Jo to keep reminding me of how he’d tried to use me to bankroll him into a new business venture.
“You’ve clearly got someone here who appreciates the things that matter in life the way foolish young men never do. Make sure you hold onto him.”
“Don’t worry, I plan to,” I said, clinging to Locke’s arm, holding onto my smile even as I felt like a fraud.
The door swung open, and Jo moved on to interrogate the new arrival. Locke and I both sagged as if winded.
“Bloody hell,” he said. “Why was that like going to battle? We’re preparing so much better before we meet your father.”
I winced at the thought. The task felt more daunting now than ever.
He checked his watch. “I’ve gotta run and catch up on some work calls. Are you good here?”
I nodded. “I’ll see you later.”
“Sounds good.” He leaned over and pecked me on the forehead. Even though I knew it was all for show, I couldn’t help the way my body flushed right down to my toes. He headed off, and I turned to the counter, a little dizzy.
When I glanced up, Cat was beaming at me like a madwoman.
“What?” I groaned.
“Come on, you must have noticed the fireworks going off in here.”
“That’s called acting.”
“I think the fact that you two snipe at each other like an old married couple is more than acting. He also looks at you a certain way. All growly and protective.” She kissed her fingers. “The vibes are mwah!”
“Whatever,” I said, trying to deny what she was saying. But it was hard to pretend the attraction wasn’t there—at least on my part. I’d thought he was gorgeous from the first moment he’d stepped out of his car on that narrow country road.
But things were different now. We were having a baby and trying to pull together this elaborate scheme to get my father to sell him the land. There was no room for pesky little things like attraction.
Besides, I knew what happened when I led with my heart instead of my head. I’d been in that mess before.