Epilogue
Saoirse
“She looked so gorgeous!” Ciara’s voice sparkled like her earrings as she leaned toward me, one hand still curled around a glass of prosecco.
I glanced toward Parker and Callum, where they spun in a dance across the room and sighed. “She looks… incandescent.”
Finn made a quiet sound beside me, one corner of his mouth tilting up. “You should see the way you look right now.”
Ciara snorted. “Smooth, Patterson.”
Alex, lounging nearby with a whisky and a grin, lifted his glass. “I give him ten minutes before he tries to sneak you off to a supply closet.”
I arched a brow. “Please. He’ll wait until after dessert.”
“Generous.” The feel of his murmur that close sent a warm ripple straight down my spine. His fingers brushed lightly against the small of my back. Innocent, probably. Didn’t matter. My pulse still jumped like it had ideas of its own.
I took a sip of wine to regroup. The reception was in full swing now. Low music, the murmur of happy voices, Parker laughing in Callum’s ear. The pair of them looked like they were holding court, impossibly happy and utterly themselves.
“I didn’t think he could look like that.”
Alex followed my gaze. “Like he’s settled and happy?”
“Exactly.” I smiled. “It suits him.”
“He’s not the only one.” Finn’s voice was so quiet I almost missed it.
I caught his eye. “Are you trying to start something?”
In answer, he slid his hand a little higher on my back.
Ciara elbowed me. “If either of you tries to pretend you weren’t already disgustingly in love months ago, I’m throwing something.”
Alex draped an arm along the back of her chair. “You’ll have to beat half the village to it. I’m owed at least twenty quid.”
I sighed. “I hate all of you.”
Finn smirked. “But you love me.”
“Tragically.”
His grip tightened slightly. “Still lucky, then.”
I thought of the last wedding we’d been to. To that canyon that had stretched out between us and the dislike I’d worn like armor against that charm I didn’t know how to handle. I’d misjudged him so badly then.
Now he was the man who brought in the laundry when it rained. Who let me steal the duvet and always made sure the kettle was full. Who knew when I needed a cup of tea and exactly how I took it.
He laughed at something Alex said, his eyes crinkling, and I felt a smile tug at my lips, soft and satisfied. I wasn’t always good with the big feelings. Still wasn’t, most days. But this simple unshakeable joy? This I could manage.
Finn’s hand rested against the small of my back, casual and familiar, like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. He probably didn’t. That was simply how we were now. And who would have imagined we would end up as one of those couples who were easy and uncomplicated in the best possible way?
He glanced down at me, his thumb brushing lightly against my spine. I leaned into him without thinking.
“I hope you’re feeling properly smug,” I said.
He grinned. “Always.”
The music shifted into something slow and low, all warm bass and longing.
Without asking, Finn took my hand and led me onto the dance floor. I went without resistance because it meant being in his arms, which was exactly what I wanted.
He slid one hand around my waist, the other settling in mine. His palm was warm against my back, thumb brushing the edge of my dress. We started to sway, bodies close enough that I could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against mine.
I let my head drop to his shoulder. Not because I was tired. Because I wanted to.
He smelled like sandalwood and evergreens—something sharp and earthy that warmed me low and deep. His hand tightened slightly at my waist, and I settled closer. We moved together, unhurried. The crowd blurred around us. Everything else faded.
“You know I was half in love with you before you ever stopped hating me, right?” His voice was a murmur, low and rough, near my ear.
I stiffened. Only slightly, but enough to make him notice.
“I didn’t hate you,” I said, keeping my head where it was. “I… moderately disliked your face.”
He laughed, his breath hot against my neck. His hand slid a little lower. Not enough to draw attention, but enough that I felt it.
I huffed a quiet breath, part exasperation, part something else entirely. His hand skimmed a little higher on my back—teasing now along the exposed stretch of skin revealed by the low back of the gown—and then he dipped his head to press a kiss to my temple.
“Come on, Doc.” His voice stroked across my skin, warm with promise. “Let’s go find somewhere private.”
I rolled my eyes, even as a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. “You’re impossible. It’s not even after dessert.”
He leaned in, close enough to make my skin prickle. “It’s no’ my fault. You’re wearing that dress, and I absolutely want you for dessert.”
Heat flared low in my belly, but I kept my tone prim. “Oh?”
He lowered his voice even deeper as his palm skimmed over my bum. “I happen to ken you were verra interested in the easy access capabilities of this kilt.”
Because that lit a fire straight in my center, I didn’t dignify it with a reply. Just slipped my hand into his and let him tug me through the edges of the crowd.
We slipped out of the main hall under the cover of low lights and laughter, his thumb brushing against mine as we went. Silent promise of a door, a lock, and ten blessed minutes without an audience.
We barely made it into the room before the lock clicked shut behind us.
Finn’s hands were on my waist, warm and certain, and then his mouth was on mine, hot and coaxing.
I pressed into him, fingers tugging his shirt from the waist of his kilt to find skin.
He groaned against my mouth, shifting us back until my spine met the wall with a gentle thud.
His thigh nudged between mine, and my whole body went taut, ready.
God, the things I wanted to do with this man.
His fingers skimmed the hem of my dress, already sliding higher, and all I could do was imagine the look on his face when he figured out I’d planned for exactly this.
No knickers.
Strategic planning at its finest.
I dragged his mouth back to mine, breathless now, already aching, already pulling him closer?—
Then I heard it. A tiny sound, barely audible over the distant thump of music. Thin and high and wrong. A whimper.
I stilled.
Finn kissed along my jaw. “Dinna do it.” His hands found bare leg and skimmed higher. “Please dinna be what I think it is.”
There it was again. Definitely real. Faint, but close. Ignoring the heat he’d stoked, I slipped out of his arms and crossed the room to the second door, the one that led out to the garden. As I opened it, cool air spilled in, and with it, another soft cry.
I stepped outside, heels clicking on the flagstone path, and scanned the garden. There, beneath one of the benches, something small moved.
A puppy.
She was curled in a miserable little ball, half-hidden in the ivy. Her fur was matted with mud, ears too big for her face, ribs showing beneath a patchy coat, wide, wary eyes, and a body that shook with every breath. There was no collar.
“Oh, sweetheart.” I dropped straight to the grass, not caring in the slightest what it did to the hem of my dress. “Where did you come from?”
The pup looked at me, frozen with fear and clearly exhausted. I held out a hand, murmuring soft nonsense, coaxing.
After a long, uncertain pause, she crept forward and collapsed into my palm.
Finn’s footsteps crunched behind me. He stopped in the doorway. “Of course.” Beneath the deadpan delivery, I could hear his amusement.
I ran a hand gently down her side. I could feel every ridge of her spine, every too-prominent rib. “She has to be a stray. No tag, no chip bump, underweight. Someone dumped her, or she got lost a while ago.”
He crouched beside me, taking one look at the puppy now snuggled against my chest, leaving God knew what stains on my dress. “You’ve already named her in your head, haven’t you?”
I grinned, stroking the pup’s head as she gave a tiny, contented sigh. “Not yet. But she’s definitely coming home with us.”
Finn shook his head, but the smile tugging at his mouth betrayed him. “That’s it. The menagerie begins.” He reached out and ran a soft knuckle along her ear. “You couldn’t have waited ten more minutes so I could take advantage of your new mum’s lack of knickers?”
I leaned over to catch his mouth in another fast kiss. “Let me get her squared away first, and I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
The heated look he shot me had me going damp between my thighs. “Then let’s go make our excuses, Dr. MacGregor.”
Choose Your Next Romance
I hope you enjoyed this conclusion to the Special Ops Scots trilogy! You can get one last visit to Scotland in Finn and Saoirse’s bonus epilogue.