She pulls back, grinning ear to ear. “Girl, I had the hardest time of my life keeping this from you. So worth it, though.”
I laugh, feeling lighter than ever. And then Aunt Rose’s arms are around us, pulling us both into a big, tight hug.
“I obviously couldn’t be happier about this,” she says, her voice brimming with joy. “But are we going to talk about the tire-screeching, coffee-flying incident?”
Knox and I exchange a look, and a laugh bursts free before I can stop it. Knox’s hand runs through his hair. “Aye, you mean the day you trusted your niece to drive in a foreign country for the first time?”
She quirks a brow. “I didn’t know it was going to bethateventful.”
Her embrace lingers after she pulls away. I take a moment to let my gaze wander over the courtyard. It’s like time slows down, the soft golden lights casting long shadows while stars twinkle overhead. Everything really is…perfect.
By the time the night winds down, we’ve shared laughter, good food, drinks, and the kind of company that fillsthe heart up, but my mind’s already a few steps ahead. I want to take myfiancéhome.
I lean over, my lips brushing against his. “Take me home. Your fiancée has plans for you…and that kilt.”
Knox throws his head back with a deep, hearty laugh. He grabs my hand, pulling me to my feet with an easy grin. “As much as we love and appreciate you all being here tonight,” he calls out to the group, “the future Mrs. MacKenzie has plans to ravish me.”
I gasp, my face flaming as I quickly cover it with my hands in a burst of embarrassment. “Knox!” I shout, half laughing, half scolding. “Your whole family is here, for Christ’s sake!”
His grin only widens. “Aye, but they’ll understand. It’s not every day a man gets engaged to the love of his life.”
“I can’t believe you said that in front of everyone,” I admonish, though my smile betrays me.
He pulls me into him, his hands settling gently on my hips. “Aye, well,” he says, dipping his head until his mouth brushes my ear, his voice low and wicked. “The thought of you ravishing me is too tempting. Can you blame a man?”
I never imagined this would be my life. Not in a million years. But here I am. With a man in a kilt, grinning like he won the lottery and can’t wait to take me home.
forty-four
JULIETTE
The drive back home is thick with the kind of anticipation that crackles in the silence between words. My hand rests in his over the center console, and he’s tracing slow circles on my skin, memorizing every inch. Like letting go isn’t an option.
Outside the window, the countryside rushes by in a blur of moonlight and shadows, but all I can focus on is the ring on my finger.
“You keep looking at it like it might vanish,” Knox says.
“I’m still trying to believe this is real,” I murmur.
He doesn’t say anything. Just glances at me, his eyes catching the light and holding me hostage in that slow-burn way of his.
By the time we get home, I’m already halfway undone. And he knows it.
Knox kills the engine, climbs out, and meets me at my side. He doesn’t rush. Doesn’t speak. Just laces our fingers again like he’s grounding himself with me. When the front door clicks shut behind us, though…it’s a different story.
He backs me into the wall, and then his mouth crashes into mine before I even suck in a breath. It’s messy and hungry, all teeth and tongue and need, like he’s trying to memorize the shape of my mouth with his own.
His hands cradle my face like I’m breakable, but his kiss is reckless, consuming, desperate. His thumbs sweep across my cheeks as he tilts my head and dives deeper.
And just like that, the world falls away. Time, names, dates, reasons—gone. All I know is him. This. The way he kisses me like I’m the only thing that’s ever made sense.
“I’ve been wanting to do this all damn night,” he growls, his breath ragged against my lips. “Watching you smile, laugh…knowing you’re going to be my wife.”
“And you’re going to be myhusband,” I whisper, and the words ignite something primal in his eyes.
His hands slide down my sides, bunching the fabric of my dress as he lifts me with ease. My legs wrap around his waist, and I can feel the rough wool of his kilt against my inner thighs, a delicious friction that makes me gasp.
He nips at my lower lip as he carries me toward the living room. Neither of us has the patience to go upstairs. Knox lowers me onto the sofa, my back against the cushions as he stands before me, towering and magnificent.
