“I mean it, lass. I want to marry you. As soon as I’m out of this bed, we’ll hop a boat to Scotland and begin our lives, and the first time we step foot on that soil, I want it to be as man and wife. I don’t care if it’s sudden. What I feel for you was sudden, too, and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Aven...” Her lashes flutter, and she fidgets with the blanket. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Ach, say yes. Jim’s already become an officiant so that he can marry Kindra and Ezra. We could get him in here and have it done right away.”
She bites her bottom lip and considers this. “Quinn Slade...” She wrinkles her nose. “I kind of hate it. I’d gotten used to thinking of myself as Quinn Carter.”
I shake my head and pull her closer, breathing in her toasted-vanilla scent. “We won’t be taking my da’s last name. He was never a father to me. Not any more than Desmond was to you. He abandoned me at my lowest point. Meanwhile, your mother never abandoned you.”
“I finally know the truth,” Quinn whispers. “That she thought she was giving me a better life. Did you know she planned to get me back after she went through rehab?”
“Aye, lass. King told me everything. Your mother loved you something fierce. Could we take her last name?”
“There is a reason I was okay with taking the Parkers’ last name,” she says with another wrinkle of her nose. “Quinn Butts never really sat well with me.”
“We could be the bonnie Butts of Scotland, lass. I can picture it now. We’ll have two wee ones named Harry and Rosie.”
“And a little dog named Itchy,” she says with a laugh. I close my eyes and revel in that sweet sound. “No, I think we’ll have to come up with something better.”
The door bursts open, and Jim practically falls into the room. Quinn spins in my arms to face him as he offers the most sheepish smile I’ve ever seen.
“Sorry, couldn’t help overhearing your little discussion,” he says with a wiggle of his fingers.
I roll my eyes. “Come off it, pal. You were eavesdropping again.”
“It’s a nasty habit, and I’m working on it,” he says. “But that’s beside the point. You see, I may have a simple solution to your little surname issue. That’s if the two of you plan to be wed?” He rocks on his heels and looks at us with an expectant gleam in his eye.
“We don’t want to be the Madigans, but thanks for the offer,” Quinn says.
“No, no. Not my last name. One of your very own.” He grins and shakes his head. “But I’m getting ahead of myself. Why not make a game out of it, hmm? If you let me marry you right now, I’ll tell you your new last name.”
Quinn and I share a look.
“Think of it,” Jim continues. “I’ll marry you here in the hospital room. After that, you can go off on your honeymoon to slaughter Desmond on the island. You’ll have the entire park to yourselves.”
“That does sound incredibly romantic,” Quinn says with a nibble of her lip.
“Then it’s settled!” Jim claps his hands and turns to leave the room. “I’ll just grab our witnesses, and?—”
“Wait!” Quinn holds up her hands. “I don’t even have a ring! I can’t get engaged without a ring.” She turns to face me. “And you didn’t even ask me. Youtoldme.”
The door opens again, and King falls in this time. He straightens and brushes his tie before clearing his throat. “Apologies. Jim’s little habit is catching, it seems, but I may have a solution to that jewelry problem.”
He steps forward and places a tiny black box in my hand. The corners have been rubbed white from years of sitting in someone’s pocket. I open the box, and Quinn gasps. A massive diamond sits in a cluster of smaller stones.
“I asked your mother to marry me no fewer than three times. You were there for all of them, though you were too small to remember.” He smiles at the lass as he nods toward the ring. “Don’t make the same mistake. If you love him, say yes, child.”
I pull the ring from the box and hold it toward her with a shaking hand. “Quinn, I cannae promise our life together will be perfect, but I promise it will always be a lifetogether. Will you marry me?”
She nods her head and holds out her hand, and I slip the ring over her finger.
“Oh, happy day!” Jim says with a flail of his hands.
King pulls a handkerchief from his front pocket and passes it to his weeping friend.
“One change of plans, though,” I say. “If I could wear more than a hospital bed sheet as I say my nuptials, I’d appreciate it.”
“And could we at least throw together a dress?” Quinn asks.
