Page 69 of The Grump I Got Stuck With

Asleepy smile stretched across my face as I rolled over, expecting to curl against Alistair’s warm body. I frowned when all I found was a cold pillow and rumpled sheets. Had he never come back to bed after his phone call?

I propped myself up. Odd.

I couldn’t deny that I was a little disappointed not to have him here to cuddle this morning. On the other hand, I also understood that the man worked incredibly hard to make time for me and Kenna around his busy schedule.

Frankly, Alistair had some of the best time management skills of anyone I’d ever met, but right now I was missing him, so if he couldn’t be here, I’d just have to go to him. Maybe I could even entice him back to bed once more before we had to go to Lochbrae to pick up Kenna.

I hopped out of bed and shrugged into a tank top and some very cropped pajama shorts. Was I dressed appropriately for the winter weather outside? No. Was I going to make Alistair’s eyes bug out of his head? I adjusted my cleavage. That was the plan.

I opened my door and padded down the hallway on my way to his office.

I tiptoed toward the doorway, ruffling my hair up, putting on my most sexy pout as I turned into the room. “Hello, there,” I said to…absolutely no one. Alistair wasn’t in his office. But his laptop was missing.

“Hmmph.” I couldn’t believe I’d wasted my sexy pout.

I turned around, heading back the way I came, taking myself down to the kitchen. If I could figure out where I’d left my phone, then I could just text the man. It would probably be faster than traipsing around the castle, peeking into rooms. To my surprise, I found Alistair at the kitchen island, hunched over his laptop, a cup of coffee pressed to his lips.

There were multiple open coffee pods on the counter, the kind he used to brew his fancy lattes, which told me this wasn’t his first hit of caffeine. “Have you been up this whole time?” I asked, coming up behind him. I massaged my hands into his shoulders.

He sighed heavily.

“What’s wrong?”

“I received a call from my solicitor last night,” he grunted. “They found Jessica.”

“Oh. My. God.” My eyebrows hit my hairline. I leaned against the island next to him, spotting an article about the arrest open on his laptop. I studied his expression, noting the deep worry lines that cut across his forehead. “Are you okay? This must be…so strange, for starters.” I wrapped my hand over his forearm, squeezing gently before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “And stressful. How are you feeling about it?”

Alistair shrugged off my questions.

“We need to talk about the logistics,” he said.

I frowned. “What kind of logistics?”

“How everything is going to work from here on out,” he said, gesturing to the article. “Interest in the whole scandal had finally died down. But Jessica’s arrest, her being charged, will ignite the whole thing all over again. My solicitor already warned me that I’ll end up being called as a witness.”

I frowned, nodding. “Right. That means more trips down to London. I agree it’s not ideal, but I can keep an eye on Kenna while you’re dealing with all that.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” he said. “We need to go into full lockdown.”

My thoughts short-circuited. What the hell was he talking about? “You already live in a castle in the middle of nowhere. How much more locked down can you get?” I huffed a laugh of disbelief. “What do you want to do—erect a giant cage around the house?”

“If that’s what we need to⁠—”

“I was kidding,” I said quickly, touching the back of his hand. “Alistair, be reasonable.”

“I am being reasonable,” he said, his voice so level that it sounded almost robotic. “You don’t understand. I’ve already lived through this once. The only way to prevent the media onslaught is to get ahead of it. And that means not giving them access.”

I wasn’t sure how to gauge whether this was a measured response or an overreaction, so I tried to logic it out. “We’re hundreds of miles from London, which means it’ll take the more dedicated journalists time to mobilize and make their way out here once they figure out where you are. If they even manage that.”

“Oh, they will.”

“Even if they do. Do you really think the residents of Braeburn will take very kindly to their presence? And there’s only one inn in town, which happens to be owned by your best friend’s fiancée. Do you really think Isla would willingly hand over room keys to the press?”

He didn’t seem convinced as he started typing an email to Alfie. “I’m going to cancel any in-person commitments for the time being. It’s probably best if you cancel your glassblowing session for this afternoon.”

My jaw dropped, and it was all I could do to stare for a beat. Finally, I managed to speak. “You’re joking.”

He arched an eyebrow, his face set in a stern frown. “What about this sounds like I’m joking?”