“Lucy MacKenzie, will you?—”
I’d said yes before he’d even finished the question.
We haven’t rushed into any wedding planning or frantic timelines. We’re just…savoring every quiet morning, every shared smile, every conversation about the future. Letting everything happen in its own time. I love that we can linger in the in-between. Our life together isn’t measured by deadlines or expectations. We’re just slowly carving out our forever, one day at a time.
Callan and Bree’swedding ceremony is a blur of happy tears, laughter, and so many flowers I swear I’ll be smelling them in my dreams. Now I’m nestled in a corner of the reception tent, my feet propped on an empty chair while Aidan sits beside me. From this vantage point, we have the perfect view of the celebration unfolding before us.
“Look at that chaos,” I murmur, leaning my head against Aidan’s shoulder.
The dance floor is a flurry of tartan and laughter. Bree is at the center, her flower crown slightly crooked as Callan spins her around, both of them laughing like the world has shrunk down to just the two of them.
“You doing all right?” Aidan asks.
“I’m perfect,” I assure him, though my feet are swollen and my back aches. “Just enjoying the show.”
And what a show it is. Knox has the twins perched on his hips, their matching pink dresses swirling as they shriek with delight. Juliette’s laughter spills across the dance floor as she captures every moment on her phone.
Isla is twirling around with my parents. Dad lifts her high, making her squeal in delight. There’s no stopping the smile that tugs at my lips. They’ve embraced Isla so completely. There was never a question of whether she’d be accepted. She was theirs the moment they met her. Just like she became mine.
Aidan shifts in his chair, turning fully toward me. “Let’s get married next weekend.”
I laugh, the sound bubbling up before I can stop it. “Right. I’ll just waddle down the aisle like a penguin in a fancy dress.”
He doesn’t laugh. Not a grin, not even a twitch at the corner of his mouth. Instead, he threads his fingers through mine.
“I’m serious, Lucy.” His voice is calm, eyes never leaving mine. The joke dies on my lips. Heisserious.
Suddenly, the idea of a quick, small wedding doesn’t seem silly at all. In fact…maybe it’s perfect. No sprawling guest lists, no one else’s expectations crowding in. Just us and the people we love most.
His thumb traces circles on the back of my hand. “I don’t think I can wait much longer to call you my wife.”
Well…if I wasn’t already leaning toward yes, that would do it for me. A ridiculous grin threatens to take over my whole face, and my chest seems too small for all the fluttering inside it. I want to kiss him senseless.
“But what about—” I start to protest, my practical side kicking in despite the butterflies doing somersaults in my stomach.
“What about what?” he asks, leaning closer. The scent of his cologne mingles with the Highland air, and I have to fight the urge to bury my face in his neck right here in front of everyone.
“I’m huge, Aidan. I can’t even see my own feet, let alone fit into a proper wedding dress.”
His eyes soften, and he brings our joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “You’re carrying our son,” he says quietly. “You’ve never been more beautiful.”
My heart does that fluttering thing again,and I swear this man could convince me to do anything when he looks at me like that.
“Besides,” he continues, a hint of mischief creeping into his voice, “you’d look stunning in a potato sack.”
I snort out a laugh. “Very romantic, Mr. Reid.”
“I have my moments.”
“I have one condition.”
He smirks. “Name it.”
“You go commando beneath your kilt and make sure someone can watch Isla for the weekend.”
He laughs, a low, rumbling sound that makes my stomach flutter. “And how exactly do you know I’m not always commando beneath this kilt, hmm?”
I laugh, and just like that, I know my answer.
