“I’ll see you tonight.”
“You’re still coming?”
“Hell, yeah, I am.”
I bit my lip and smiled. “Good.”
He kissed me again, then walked out my door.
Isla
AKNOCK AT the door elicited a squeak, particularly when it was pushed open and I said, “You were supposed to be gone.”
“Gone where?” Mum asked.
“Sorry. I thought you were someone else.”
“Who?”
I shook my head. “Arric.”
“Arric’s here?”
“I thought he might be, but it’s you.” I smiled. “Which is better. What’s up?”
“Your dress is waiting for you.”
“Wow, cutting it close,” I breathed out.
“No one was expecting your boobs to get so big.”
I rolled my eyes. “Says the woman who birthed me.”
“Well, there is that,” she admitted. “Are you ready to get dressed?”
“I haven’t showered yet.”
“What? Why not?” Mum checked her watch. “Honey, you have barely two hours and people are going to start arriving.”
“I know, sorry. You can blame Arric.”
“I’m worried about you.”
“I know, Mummy. I’m worried about me too.”
“What can I do?” she asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t think youcando anything. I don’t think anyone can because he hasn’t reached ár mökunar.”
Mum smiled gently. “You know who will know what you’re feeling?”
“Who?”
“Uncle Brodie.”
I’d heard the love story of Uncle Brodie and Auntie Payton a hundred times. He’d been several hundred years old when he met a fourteen-year-old Payton, and knowing she was his mate, had to leave Scotland in order to deal with the emotional turmoil.
“That’s actually a really good idea,” I breathed out.
