“Can I take a picture of you and Neptune? Right here in front of the hydrangeas.”
She hesitates.
“Come on,” I tell her gently. “I know you’re going to want to show your sisters.”
She laughs. “Okay. Let me grab my phone—”
“I’ve got it.” I lift mine. “I’ll send them to you.”
“Alright.” She steps into place. “Where do you want me?”
That question lands heavier than it should, because there are a dozen answers I can’t say out loud.
“Right there.” I point. “Neptune, come.”
He obeys instantly, sitting perfectly at her side. She rests her hand on his head, and he leans into her gently.
That dog is as gone for her as I am.
I take a few steps back, lift my phone, and snap a couple of pictures.
“Beautiful,” I murmur. “Absolutely stunning.”
Chapter 20
When I drive up on May’s street, I expect a lot of things.
What I don’t expect is Aiden fecking Holloway stepping out onto her front lawn like he belongs there.
Her dog’s at his side, tail wagging, perfectly content, and May’s standing there, looking stunning as feck, watching them go with a soft look on her face—like this eejit has some kind of pull on her I don’t understand and don’t like one bit.
I’m already sick of the fact that they’re neighbors.
This kind of proximity is a royal pain in the arse.
Chapter 21
The moment we pull into the winery parking lot, my nerves come alive.
I knew this was going to be a bigger event than I had originally imagined, but knowing it and seeing it are two different things. Cars line the gravel drive. Warm golden lights glow from the building ahead, reflecting softly off the windows and illuminating the clusters of people gathering near the entrance.
I smooth my hands down my dress before I even step out.
“Ready?” Finn asks as he comes around to open my door.
I nod, even though I’m not sure that’s true.
The second we start walking toward the entrance, I feel it—the awareness. The quiet shift of attention, heads turning.
Maybe it’s the dress, the way it moves around my legs when I walk. Maybe it’s because I’m new in town and everyone herealready knows everyone else. Or maybe —and far more likely—it’s the man beside me.
Because if there were a photo next to the wordhandsomein the dictionary, it would absolutely be Finn O’Donoghue tonight.
His dress blues are perfectly pressed, sharp lines and polished buttons catching the warm light. Medals and ribbons sit neatly across his chest, every one of them precise, intentional—a story told without words. The dark fabric tailored specifically for his body, broad shoulders softened only slightly by the easy confidence he wears like a second uniform. His hair is freshly trimmed beneath the pristine white dress cap, his face clean-shaven, and his eyes carry that familiar mischievous glint that makes every woman within range collectively swoon.
Includingme.
He offers me his arm, and I take it. Holding on for dear life, I let him guide me inside.
