AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“We were careful not to let people know,” he cut in, but Will kept going.
“And your lodge? I didn’t even know you were unhappy with me, or with the club.” He moved to take a drink, then looked at the tumbler as if it had betrayed him by being empty. Gently, he placed the glass on the edge of Grant’s desk, as though not trusting himself not to slam it down and break it.
“My whole life has changed too,” Grant pointed out, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands on top of his head. “You have a wife and a kid now. You don’t need me underfoot here and then at home too. Juliet helps you host here at the club, and she keeps you company at home. I need to have a life outside of you. I need to have aspirations separate from yours. Sometimes I get tired of the city, too, and I thought this would give me something of my own that wouldn’t take us completely out of each other’s lives. It gives both of us space.”
“You’re never underfoot, and I don’t need space,” Will said, his voice strained. “You’re my brother. You’re my best friend.”
Grant bit the inside of his cheek, angry at how emotional this was making him. He always chose to laugh about things rather than dwell on them, but it felt like he’d spent the last two weeks on some sort of cathartic binge. What was next? Was their father to walk in the door for a heart-to-heart? Their sister, Charlotte? Maybe even their mother?
“Okay.”
“Okay? I pour my heart out to you like an idiot and all you can say is okay?”
“Well, you’re my best friend, too, but I really don’t want to make a habit of this talking about our feelings stuff, even if I do love you. It gives me the willies.”
Will laughed, his face lighting up with an incredulous grin. “You are, without a doubt, the biggest asshole I know.”
“I learned from the best.”
Will’s throat worked as if he was trying to swallow a lump of something foul. “Fine, have your island, but you’d better come back to me every fall or I’m coming to get you.”
“Unless I’m there alone with Arabella, you have a standing invitation to drop by anytime you like.”
Will rubbed his forehead and frowned, looking weary.
Grant thought about hugging him, but chickened out.
“I guess I’ll have to get directions from you,” Will finally said, “or a map. Canada is up, right?”
* * *
* * *
Impatiently, Grant paced the edge of the main dock under the sign that read Wild. The name of the place had been Arabella’s idea, after he’d refused her other suggestions, The Refuge, The Nunnery, and Grant’s Magnificent Island of Nefarious Debauchery. The latter she had decided against herself, saying it would be a pain in the ass to fit that much text on business cards.
The necklace in his pocket felt like it was burning his leg just from the focus of his thoughts. He’d bought it before leaving the city the last time he’d gone home, and had been walking around with it in his pocket ever since, wondering if he’d ever get the opportunity to present it to her. Choosing the right moment would be imperative. He got the impression she was caving to the idea of wearing his collar, but if it was something he brought up at the wrong moment he was afraid it would spook her. The last thing he wanted was to scare her off now when everything was going so well.
At least, things had been going well the last time they’d seen each other. That had been weeks ago and he was looking forward to finally having a few days with her. Talking online just wasn’t the same.
Just as Arabella had predicted, she’d been busy since they’d gotten home from their initial trip. He was glad for her that her business was thriving—he’d never been interested in getting involved with a woman who made him the center of her life—but it would be nice if she could spare the time to visit more. It was his own fault for choosing a project so far away, but their relationship hadn’t seemed very likely when he’d bought the island.
It was fine. They were fine.
Right?
His stomach twisted with nervous anticipation as he waited.
Was she feeling the same way? Or maybe she was flying in to break things off in person. The wondering had been making him squirrelly.
He heard the hum long before he saw the small plane approach, the sound reminding him of the ongoing Dread Queen of Mosquitoes legend Arabella had made up and was gradually adding to. The sound of the Twin Otter plane felt like part of his bones now.
After hobbling along with a skeleton crew for the first few weeks, he now had a full staff, which meant that when she visited he wouldn’t be stuck running errands, doing odd jobs, or helping in the kitchen. The first few groups of guests had come and gone, the figurative bugs were being worked out of their operating procedures, and he could feel that it wouldn’t take long to turn a profit. Guests were happy. Guests were booking return trips for next year—and a few planned to come again this year if there were any cancellations they could squeeze into.
It surprised him more than anyone how many wealthy kinksters were willing to spend their money at a private resort in the middle of the wilderness in northern Canada. Will had even come out once with Juliet and the baby on a week of downtime Grant had booked to get work done around the place. This week would be a mix of friends from Catacombs and some other guests his booking agent had arranged. The agent had told him she was already booking well into next summer, despite the fact that there was no knowing what the weather would be like or when the ice would be off the lake.
The plane came into view, and he watched with trepidation as it made its approach. He’d never thought much about planes and safety until Arabella had to use one to visit him. It helped that Tarka was flying her in—he trusted the man more than the other pilots, who seemed nice enough, but were strangers. How was he supposed to know if they were prone to drinking before flights or whatever? Tak was responsible.
He held his breath as the aircraft landed in the water, but it alighted without issue and he exhaled in relief.
