I lean in until our foreheads touch, my lips brushing hers as I breathe the only words that matter. “I love you,” I whisper. “Both of you.”
fifty-one
LUCY
Three Months Later
I’ve never seen a bride look quite as wild with joy as Bree.
Her curls catch the late summer sunlight as she twirls in the middle of the cottage’s sitting room, her wedding dress billowing around her. She’s radiant.
“Lucy! Tell me honestly, is this too much?” She gestures dramatically to the flower crown perched atop her head, a riot of Highland wildflowers woven through with tiny white ribbons.
“It’s perfect,” I say, one hand resting on my now-prominent bump. “Very you.”
And it is. The crown is bold and vibrant, just like Bree herself. Nothing about her has ever been understated, and her wedding day is no exception.
Juliette laughs from where she’s helping Isla practice her flower girl walk. “It reminds me of my wedding,” she says, adjusting the tiny flower crown on Isla’s head tomatch Bree’s larger version. “Though I think Knox nearly fainted when he saw how many flowers Bree had ordered for the ceremony.”
“I remember,” I laugh, shifting to ease the dull ache in my lower back. At nearly seven months pregnant, even breathing is hard. “Does Callan have any idea what he’s in for today?”
“Oh, he knows,” Bree says, spinning once more before stopping in front of the antique mirror. “Even though he told me he’d marry me in a clown costume if that’s what I wanted.”
“And yet, you went with a flower crown instead,” I tease. “How restrained of you.”
Bree catches my eye in the mirror, mischief sparking. “Please. I’m saving the clown costume for our anniversary.”
We crack up as Isla twirls beside Bree, her little curls bouncing as she mimics Bree’s every move. My heart swells at the sight.
“Careful, Isla,” I warn gently as she spins a bit too enthusiastically. “We don’t want your flowers falling out before the ceremony.”
She immediately slows down, her face serious as she nods. “I’m practicing my best twirls for after the wedding,” she explains. “Daddy says I can dance as much as I want then.”
“And he’s absolutely right,” Juliette agrees.
I shift my weight again, trying to find a comfortable position. The baby’s been particularly active today.
“You okay?” Bree asks, her expression softening as she notices me rubbing my side.
“I’m fine. Your nephew is just practicing his Highland fling,” I say with a smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
Her eyes go wide as she hurries over to place her hands gently on my stomach. “Oh my goodness, I can feel him!” she squeals, then immediately drops her voice to a whisper. “Hithere, little one. It’s your Auntie Bree. I can’t wait to spoil you rotten.”
I laugh despite the discomfort. “He’s definitely responding to all the excitement today.”
Juliette checks her watch. “We should probably start heading over to the ceremony site. The men will be wondering where we are.”
My heart does a little flutter at the thought of seeing Aidan. He’d looked devastating this morning in his formal kilt, the deep green tartan making his eyes burn brighter. I glance down at the ring on my finger, the princess-cut diamond catching in the soft light, and my mind drifts back to a month ago when he’d slipped it onto my hand with words I’ll never forget.
“Lucy?” Aidan called from the back deck. “Can you come out here for a second?”
When I stepped out, he was standing there, awkward in that way that always makes my heart squeeze, hands shoved deep into his pockets. Isla was standing next to him, holding something behind her back that I couldn’t see.
“Isla has something for you, but before she shows you…” His voice caught. “I just want you to know that I can’t imagine our lives without you in it. We need you. I need you, always.”
He gave Isla a curt nod before she stepped forward, holding out the mug she’d been hiding behind her back. On the side were the wordsMummy, will you marry Daddy?
I laughed, but it came out choked and tearful as Aidan dropped to one knee, a velvet box open in his hand.
