“Then let’s go. But know that I have everything I need right here.”
EPILOGUE
GAEL - ONE YEAR LATER
Next weekend, on Christmas Day, Tolly and I will be getting married on his island estate. Tonight, however, we’re hosting a bachelor party on his yacht. By the way, that entire sentence sounds like a fever dream.
Tolly proposed to me last month, and neither of us wanted to wait to make it official. Aside from the fact that I’m absolutely crazy for the man, the timing has mostly to do with the fact that we’ve been busy helping the guys at Wild Heart track down and save more people.
Tolly uses whatever resources he has, and Beatrice has even gotten in on the action. She’s here tonight with Heli and the rest of his family, everyone relaxed and sunburned and happy. Clara couldn’t join us, but she and her wife sent us a wedding present.
Tolly’s father called up in a rage weeks after our visit when he realized what Tolly had done to protect and preserve the land for Adrian and his family. I didn’t understand why he was upset—after all, he had the money he so desperately wanted.
Turns out, it isn’t enough. The Duke said the sale would pay off the tax lien and support the estate for the next five years, but Tolly’s contacts in the area say that he is still trying to force Beatrice to marry someone wealthy.
Or was, until he discovered that she and Heli got married last month in a private ceremony on Tolly’s island. That phone call was even louder and angrier than the first.
Tonight, though, is about us. Looking around, seeing the friends and family who love us, means a helluva lot more than the fact that we’re navigating the yacht around Tolly’s island estate.
Ant meanders up to me, tipsy and smiling, with Erik tracking closely behind him.
“Primo! Look at us! By next week we’ll both be old married men.”
“Shhh, it’s a surprise,” I remind him as he wraps me up in a hug.
I smile over his shoulder at Erik. It’s impossible for that man to hide how much he loves my precious, precious cousin, and I’m relieved, knowing that Ant will always be cared for. When I suggested to Ant that he could either be my best man or get married alongside me, he instantly fell to his knee and proposed to Erik.
It was just us, and the look on Erik’s face was pretty amazing, especially when he pulled out a ring from his wallet, one he’d been carrying around for a while. There were a lot of happy tears that day.
Tolly is making his way around the deck with a tray of Jell-O shots, dressed like a pirate. This isn’t a costume party, so I’m not totally clear on why he’s wearing tight breeches and a flowy white shirt with an eye patch, but I’m digging it.
Speaking of things I never anticipated, my man is a connoisseur all things gelatin and alcohol. He especially loves mixing different flavors of Jell-O to recreate classic cocktails. We’ve already had margarita, piña colada, lemon drop, and orange dreamcicle Jell-O shots, with blue coconut and strawberry daiquiri shots waiting in the fridge below deck.
In other words, we’re all drunk off our asses. Thankfully Tolly’s crew knows how to handle a rowdy crowd.
Biting my knuckle, I watch as Tolly picks his way around the people on lounge chairs, each grinning as he hands them his newest concoction. Most want to take a shot with him, and he is, as always, an obliging host.
“God, I love him,” I say as he narrowly avoids falling into the pool.
“He’s a good man, Gael. I wouldn’t accept anything less for you,” Ant says, patting my chest with shiny eyes.
After my adventure in England, I heard all about how Ant ripped Tolly a new one, and it made me laugh.
A shout goes up and our attention is diverted back to Tolly. He’s managed to lose his balance again, this time dramatically windmilling his arms before falling into the pool, splashing water everywhere. The party cracks up, and the captain gives the horn a merry toot.
Tolly catches my eye, pouting. “I tripped on those new flip-flops you made for me.”
“Sure, darling.”
I laugh as he swims over to where we’re standing, hefting himself out of the pool, his eye patch lost somewhere along the way. The flowy white shirt is now see through and spackled to his chest and abs.
I send him a low whistle. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”
He looks down and shakes his head, then stops because his balance is still hella compromised. “You’re welcome.”
Stumbling toward me, he picks me up off my feet and spins me.
I smack his chest. “Put me down!”
