“Yes,” I say, the word coming out breathless and eager. “Let’s do it. Next weekend.”
His face transforms, lighting up with such joy that it nearly takes my breath away. “Aye?”
I nod, grinning so hard my cheeks hurt. “Yes. Absolutely, yes. I don’t need anything fancy. Just us.”
Before I can say another word, Aidan cradles my face in his hands and kisses me. Not a gentle peck or a sweet promise of more to come—this is a full-on, soul-claiming kiss that makes my toes curl in my uncomfortable shoes. His lips move against mine with such fierce tenderness that I completely forget we’re in the middle of someone else’s wedding reception.
Bree would absolutely approve.
“Why are you always kissing?!”
Aidan and I break apart to find Isla standing before us, her nose wrinkled in disgust.
I burst into laughter. Aidan’s deep chuckle rumbles through the air as he reaches down toruffle her curls.
“Just wait until you’re older,” he teases, eyes crinkling with amusement.
“I’m never going to kiss boys,” she declares.
“Good,” Aidan says sternly. “Keep it that way until you’re at least thirty.”
I lean into him, resting my head against his shoulder, heart full and completely at ease. Between the chaos, the laughter, and this little family we’ve created, I know one thing with absolute certainty.
I wouldn’t change a single moment. Not one.
epilogue
LUCY
Three Years Later
It’s a perfect summer afternoon. The sky is a brilliant blue, and the sun casts a golden glow over the backyard, where familiar laughter and chatter fill the air. Sometimes it still feels surreal. The house is alive with energy, children running around, cousins chasing each other through the grass, their giggles drifting as the scent of barbecued food lingers in the breeze.
Aidan’s arm is wrapped around me as we sit on the porch steps, watching the chaos unfold.
“It’s hard to believe sometimes,” I murmur, leaning into Aidan’s chest, savoring the heat of his body against mine.
“Hard to believe what?” He tilts his head, pressing a soft kiss to my temple, his voice steady, as always.
“That this is real. That it’s ours.” My gaze sweeps over the scene before us.
Isla shrieks with laughter, her legs pumping as she sprints across the grass, her brother, Noah, hot on her heels, his gigglesbubbling up as he chases her with single-minded determination. Knox’s twin girls aren’t far behind, their joyful squeals mixing with the sounds of the countryside.
Farther back, Bree leans into Callan, her hand resting on her growing bump as she pokes him in the ribs with her free hand, clearly up to no good. Callan groans, rubbing his side dramatically, though he’s smiling. “I’m telling you, woman, if this one’s anything like you, we’re doomed.”
Bree laughs, a bright, twinkling sound. “Oh, please. You’ll let her boss you around, and you’ll love every second of it. Just like you do with me.”
He narrows his eyes, pretending to be offended. “Is that so? Because last time I checked, I’m still the man of the house.”
She raises an eyebrow, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, themanof the house, huh? Is that why you screamed when that spider showed up in the shower last week?”
He throws his hands up in defeat. “It was massive! Practically a bloody tarantula. And don’t act like you didn’t scream first!”
“Maybe.” She tilts her head, pretending to think. “But who stood on the toilet and demanded I ‘handle it like a real woman’?”
“I was protecting the baby!” Callan shoots back, pointing at her stomach.
She narrows her eyes, her hands settling on her hips. “Protecting the baby? By forcing me, the carrier of said baby, to kill the spider?”
