Page 94 of Delicious Surrender
“Sir…” The one who had been mooning over Brynne was angling to speak.
When he continued flipping through the package, Gage glared at him. “Spit it out, kid.”
“Sir, we assembled everything to make this look solid and daunting to Miss Larimore, but you must know the case itself is very weak.”
“I am aware of that fact. What’s your name?” Gage pinned him with a steely-eyed stare.
“Benson, sir.”
“Benson, I know we won’t win this case, and I don’t expect it will ever get to a judge. I’m glad you took your eyes off Miss Larimore long enough to make a few salient points.”
He blushed. Gage shook his head, wondering if this was his first case out of law school.
“Yes sir. I just wanted to—”
“Just get me the document. I’ll be in touch.” He grabbed the stack of papers and strode out.
He considered stopping for a drink but thought better of it. His housekeeper would have stocked the bar and pantry for hisarrival.
As he passed the hotel, a flash of auburn hair caught his eye. Brynne was facing away from him, but he knew her lush shape a mile away. She was embracing a man who looked old enough to be her father. He recognized Declan Fraser, the owner of the hotel.What are they doing together?
Gage turned back and hit the brakes hard, almost running a red light. His hands gripped the steering wheel. Had she already moved on to a new guy?Why do I care?He didn’t. It was a lingering annoyance at how she’d upended the meeting and refused the money. A glance in the rear view mirror showed them standing on the sidewalk. Declan’s arm was still around her. The investigator needed to hurry with the next report. He wanted to know everything.Too bad it didn’t come before the meeting today.
A loud honking woke him up. The light was green, and he was sitting there preoccupied. He hit the gas and headed out of Portree. He needed to burn off this anger and negative energy. Maybe the punching bag hanging in his loft would do the trick.
He pulled in behind the house and walked to the front deck to admire the view. The sun had drifted toward the horizon and the sky was a vivid swirl of oranges, reds, and purples over the darkening gray. This house was a passion project he’d started fifteen months ago. It was supposed to be a relaxing holiday home for him and Sierra. He snorted in disgust at how wrong he had been about her. None of that mattered now. They finished it and he planned to enjoy it as often as he could.
His deep connection to Skye went back to his childhood. Growing up, he’d often questioned why he had no father and no family here. At thirteen, Gage pressed his mother for thetruth. She was twenty when she got pregnant by a married man who owned a company in Fort William, where she worked as a secretary. He seduced her, and although he could not—or would not—acknowledge her son as his own, he set her up in a home on Skye. The company had a large fleet of fishing boats in Portree, and he visited every week. However, when Gage was five, he died and left them with no support of any kind. She fought hard to hold on to the house and eventually went back to school to become a family lawyer. He admired her tenacity, but she was never an affectionate or nurturing presence in his life. Most often, he was left to his own devices while she worked two jobs to keep a roof over their heads.
She had a modern house near Elgol Beach, which sat empty most of the time. It was his temporary home during the construction of his place. The lack of decent network services was not just annoying, it was detrimental to business development and tourism on Skye, and he wanted to change that. The project’s success depended on getting access to the only viable path to the shore. Josie’s parcel of land was one of the few without layers of sedimentary rock and basaltic lava. Stunning rock formations were part of Skye’s rugged beauty, but you couldn’t bury cables in them.
Gage’s phone pinged. The email subject readUnredacted Will.He opened the message from Benson and read the attachment. His mouth dropped open in shock. He could not believe it and read it a second time.
Brynne must complete her revised manuscript within six months of my death.
Brynne must open her heart to a loving relationship and banish the three-date rule from her vocabulary.
She must endeavor to sustain a relationship with a suitable* man for a year.
Finally, Brynne should spend at least four months a year on Skye for the next two years.
Four insane conditions, two of which struck him as hilarious. Her definition of suitable made him laugh out loud.