Page 37 of The Grump I Married
“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 thanJasper. 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 ofsomethingin 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.”
