She laughs, reaches over, and grabs my face between her hands. She kisses my forehead fiercely. “And that’s only one of the very many things I love about you, Mac Cowen.”
I kiss her back. “Are we keeping track now?”
She giggles. “Nah.”
“Good, love,” I say, giving her another kiss. “Because I lost track long ago.”
She rests her head on my shoulder as we fly home. She reads her book, and I sling my arm around her shoulders. When we get home, we’ll have a right good wedding. Proper, for the sake of family. We’ll keep it simple and brief, so she doesn’t have to see her family for long.
“You should get some sleep,” I tell her, when her head bobs and she nearly passes out on my shoulder.
“Just one more chapter,” she says through her yawn.
“Alright, lass. One more chapter.”
I watch her read, snuggled up next to me, and marvel at the story we’re writing. I’m taking her home. We’ll write the next chapter, together.
EPILOGUE
Bryn
“No way,”Paisley says, whispering. “He didwhat?”
It’s three months after Fran’s wedding, and the girls and I are having a bit of a sleepover. Mac and I just announced we’re expecting, right before he headed back to Paris.
I’m nauseous and tired, so we decided it’s best if I stay home.
I didn’t want to wait to start our new life together, and the entire family rejoiced at our happy news.
“Oh, Bryn,” Flora said, giving me a tight embrace. “I can’t wait to see another wee bairn around the place.”
“And you two will make the most beautiful babies!” Fran said. The rest all laughed, and Mac leaned in and whispered in my ear, “And we had a good time trying, didn’t we then?”
He makes me flush.
Now we’re sitting around in Islan’s room, and Paisley’s recounting her story. She managed to get an early copy of the latest Clan Chronicles, and she’s telling us all.
“But it’s insane how similar it is to us, girls, I tell you what.”
Fran huffs out a breath. “Impossible, Paisley. It doesn’t make sense for it to be someone here.”
“Well, didn’t they think it was the housekeeper? Did they ever find her?”
Islan shakes her head. “No. But I think Tate’s got a lead on where she might be.”
Fran’s eyes go wide. I wonder if I’m the only one who notices the panicked expression on her face.
“Oh? Where might that be?”
“Dunno,” Paisley says. “You’ll have to ask Tate.”
Fran pushes herself up from the bed. “I think I’ll do that.”
She leaves the room, and the rest of us look at each other in surprise.
“There’s something going on with the two of them, isn’t there?” Paisley asks.
Islan snorts. “As if either one of them will ever admit it, eh?”
