Free Geek God (Forever Geek Trilogy #1) by Victoria Barbour Page B

Heard it’s a bit of a rough spot.”
    Sweet lord. Even in this godforsaken small corner of the globe people had impressions of Glasgow. “Pardon me, madam, but I’m looking for the Heart’s Ease Inn.”
    “Oh yes. This is it. Looking to book a room are you? It’s pretty pricy, you know.”
    “I have a room booked. I just can’t seem to find the place.” He was also beginning to wonder if he wanted to if he was going to have to deal with this woman for the duration.
    “You didn’t go to Little Heart’s Ease, did you? That’s on the other side of the bay, my son, and you’ll have a good couple of hours drive to get here if that’s the case.”
    The woman at the car rental kiosk had warned him of that; at least he knew he wasn’t that far off the mark.
    “No, I’m pretty sure I’m nearby. I just can’t find the bloody place.”
    “Watch your language, boy. Now where are you then?”
    It was just his luck to get a schoolmarm on the line.
    “I have no idea. I’m in a field.”
    “What field?”
    “I don’t know. It’s green. There’s grass and trees.”
    “Now don’t go gettin’ snippy. Of course there’s grass and trees. Now, what else?”
    Campbell looked around. “I can see water, and...oh, it’s just a field. No fence. No building. No cows. Sheep. Nothing. Just a great big grassy area with some gnarled trees.”
    “Oh, that could be a couple of spots. Now we’re getting somewhere.” He could swear she was cackling with glee. “Now, what’s the last sign you saw?”
    That Campbell could answer, because he still couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d even taken a picture and texted it to his sister with a terse, “Where the hell have you sent me?”
    “It said Worms. Ice. Cold Beer,” Cam told the woman.
    “Excellent. We’re getting somewhere now,” the woman intoned. “Was it one of them neon magnetic signs, or was it more homemade?”
    “It was attached to a derelict gas station. And it was written on cardboard.”
    “Oh, sure you’ve gone too far.” The woman proceeded to give him what turned out to be surprisingly good directions, and in under fifteen minutes he was driving along a narrow, pothole ridden road that wound itself around a steep cliff face. At the end of the road, past the closed fish plant, and a long yellow wharf with several small fishing boats tied up to it, loomed a hill with a sprawling yellow Victorian-style mansion with red trim atop it.
    It was a three-storey building, except for the centre, which could have housed another few rooms. If this were his house, it’s where he would build his studio. It really was spectacular, even in the cold drizzle. He marveled over how the clapboard could keep such a rich colour. The salt in the air should have dulled it, yet it looked as if it were freshly painted. Several large, red burning bushes dotted the front grounds.
    As he pulled up the gravel driveway he began to see why the publishers had decided to send him here. If there was any place to get inspired, this was it.
    At first glance you’d think this was a desolate place. Its isolation and the sparse landscape made you think of loneliness. But then subtle things stood out. The blue jays fighting over seeds in a feeder shaped like the sun. Crisp white sheets flapping in the air, despite the mist, the clothesline dancing in the wind. Even the way all the tips of the small juniper trees pointed in the same direction. Looking toward the water, the view was breathtaking. White caps formed on the waves, and still he could see gulls riding them out with ease, as if this was their own personal surfer's nirvana.
    Shutting off the engine, he stepped out and took a deep breath. The wet, cool air filled his lungs. He smiled. This might be a good project after all.
    Cam slung his laptop bag over his shoulder and headed for the door. It opened before he put his hand to the knob and he was greeted by a short, white haired woman who looked to be nothing but tanned, wrinkled