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“Yes, and if you’re right that I haven’t screwed this up with Erin, she’ll be there, too.”

“Perfect, I’m looking forward to seeing her.”

We said goodbye, and I tried to let Nuala’s reassurances take hold.

By the end of the day, I walked to Erin’s office with a frog in my throat. Strike that, I had an entire pond’s worth of frogs in there. She was still working when I arrived, so I waited for her to finish up and shut down her computer. On the way to my car, we talked about some upcoming events at the hotel, two weddings and a big birthday party. Safe ground.

The drive was quiet, which wasn’t out of the ordinary. She was always a little exhausted after a long day putting out fires, and I imagined she needed some quiet time to prepare to be social again with my parents. Maybe I should’ve changed the day, made sure the dinner was during one of her days off from work.

“You okay?” I asked when I turned onto my parents’ street before pulling into their drive.

“Yes, just tired.”

I shut off the engine and reached out to rub her shoulder blade. “You sure you’re up to this tonight? We can always reschedule.”

“No, I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m starving, and your sister said your mam’s an amazing cook.”

I smiled. “That’s true. Come on, let’s go inside and get something to eat.”

I got out of the car first, coming around to open the door for Erin. As I helped her out, my hand instinctively slid up the back of her forearm, seeking connection. She looked up at me, the evening light making her entrancing eyes even brighter. “You are, you know,” she said, her chest rising on a sharp inhale.

I noticed this was something she did when she was worked up. She’d have entire conversations in her head, then come out with a random statement like I could hear her thoughts the entire time.

A tender grin shaped my lips. “I am what?”

Her eyes flicked back and forth between mine, her posture tensing before she blurted, “The love of my life.”

Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm went off, the mundane, everyday sound punctuating the intense emotions I was working through. “Erin,” I breathed, my hands moving up to cup her cheeks. “Come here.”

She moved closer, stepping into the warmth of my body as I captured her lips in a soft, emotion-laden kiss. My tongue caressed hers, and I tried to communicate all that I felt for her before eventually coming up for air. “I adore you,” I said, my voice thick. “And I love you. I love you so much.”

Her lip trembled, and I could practically feel her vibrating between my hands where they still rested on her cheeks. “I love you, too,” she whispered, and I couldn’t have been more besotted if I tried. I was floating on cloud nine, barely aware that we were standing on my parents’ doorstep. I stood there, gazing into her eyes, unable to look away.

“We should—”

Before she could finish, the front door opened, revealing my mother in her kitchen apron, the scent of fresh garlic and herbs wafting out. “There you are. We were wondering where you’d gotten to,” she said, waving us in. “Come along, I’ve made my pan-fried monkfish, and your father just opened a lovely bottle of wine.”

I caught Erin’s hand in mine, my eyes still on hers as I lifted it and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. Her breath caught, one of my favourite sounds, but then again, everything about her was my favourite. The way she laughed, her smile, her perfume, the clothes she wore, her hair, her eyes.

No woman existed for me other than her, and as we stepped into my parents’ house for the first of what I hoped were many more family dinners to come, I thanked whatever invisible force or magic or coincidence or sheer luck that had brought her back into my life.

Epilogue

Erin

Six months later

I smiled as I peered out the hotel window, seeing the long queue of guests and locals who’d come to sample Cooke’s seafood. He’d finally gotten the truck up and running a few months ago, which Sloane had suggested naming Cooke’s Catch. It had become a huge hit, with people even travelling from other towns to try his lobster rolls. An influencer on social media had posted a positive review, and the success had snowballed from there.

Tristan and Derek offered him a lease to permanently park the truck on the hotel grounds, so he was here every day now. It was almost like he’d never left, and I got to have a lobster roll once a week as a treat.

I was passing by reception when Samara called me over. “Hey, Rinnie, do you know anything about this?”

I rounded the desk to peer at her computer screen. “What is it?”

“I’ve had a bunch of phone calls from people who’ve been trying to book the cottage, but it seems the option has been taken down off the website.”

“That’s odd,” I said, leaning over and taking hold of her mouse. I poked around the booking page, and she was right. The option to book the cottage was gone completely. “I’ll go talk to Tristan about it,” I said then made my way to his office.