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“Hi, Emily.”
“Grace! My God, I’ve just seen your messages and missed calls. Is everything okay?”
“Er . . .”
Sitting up, I gaze down at Aidan, who’s blinking, his hair tousled, one side of his face slightly flattened by the pillow. Somehow he manages to be both utterly adorable and irresistibly attractive at the same time. I don’t know whether to stroke his cheek or kiss him.
“Grace?” Emily prompts.
“Oh, yeah, everything is okay. Actually, things are great—sorry if I panicked you with those missed calls. Guess where I am?”
“First, I’m glad to hear you’re all right—you had me worried for a moment. And as for where you are, well, since you’re asking, I’m guessing you’re not at home. Are you . . . in Bannock?”
“Correct! But also wrong. I am in Bannock, but I’m home too—this is my home now.”
Emily lets out a gasp, quickly followed by a squeal. “You’re moving to Bannock? Seriously?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Reaching down, I glide my fingers over Aidan’s chest, brushing the light hairs there and tracing the definition of his muscles. He smiles up at me sleepily.
“I’m in bed with my Highlander right now, in our new place, which is just a few doors away from David and Johnny’s and only a few minutes from the hotel.”
“Oh, Grace, that’s amazing news! It’s such a beautiful cottage. I was desperate to tell you about it, but Aidan insisted I keep my lips sealed. Now, I’ve actually got some news too. Seeing as you made me guess where you are, why don’t you try guessing where I am?”
“Hmm, I know you went away for the night, but I’ve no idea where. You’ll just have to tell me.”
“Gretna Green.”
Emily and I were there earlier this year—it’s where Ally went down on one knee. The village is famously associated with runaway weddings, harking back to a time when young English couples crossed over the border into Scotland so they could be married without their parents’ permission.
“Wait! Did you and Ally . . . elope?”
At this, Aidan props himself up and rubs the sleep from his eyes. His expression becomes alert and curious.
“We’ve not told anyone else yet,” Emily admits, “but . . . yes! I’m Mrs McIntyre now.”
“Oh, Emily, that’s fantastic. Congratulations!”
A flicker of surprise passes over Aidan’s face, then he breaks into a grin. He leans close to me and says, “Aye, congratulations, Mrs McIntyre! Can you pop on loudspeaker so I can say a few words to your husband?”
“Ha! Thanks, Aidan. I didn’t know you were listening in. Of course!”
I turn on loudspeaker too, and the four of us spend the next ten minutes catching up, filling each other in on our Valentine’s Days, although mainly I let Emily and Ally do the talking. I don’t want to bring down the mood by going over all that happened yesterday—there are a few details that can wait until we see them in person.
They’re heading home to Bannock today, so we agree to meet up once they’re back, then we say our goodbyes.
“Wow!” Aidan says after the call is over. “They’re married. That gets me thinking . . .” He sits up next to me, our backs against the headboard, and reaches for my hand. “Grace Adefope, there’s something I want to ask you.” He looks deep into my eyes, and there’s no playfulness in his expression now—it’s serious and intent.
My heart lurches, and I swallow. “Wait, you’re not going to—”
“Let me finish.” Tenderly he grazes my cheek with his fingers. “Grace Adefope, will you do me the honour of agreeing with my da’s advice that we shouldn’t rush into marriage?”
“Aidan!” Gasping with indignation, I slap his bare chest, hard. “That was mean!”
He grins, wraps his arms around me, and pulls me closer to him, nuzzling his face against mine. “But I do love you, Grace, and I can see it happening one day. For now, to make up for my wee joke, how about breakfast in bed? Or we could go out to the Coffee Bothy?”
“Or I could cut off your willy to teach you a lesson? What do you think about that?”
