Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Tate
Taking Fran into my home as my wife seems like the most natural thing in the world. It’s astounding how quickly things change.
Only last month, I felt alone. Helpless. I watched my Clan under Leith’s leadership and mourned the loss of my brother. Knew we had to find the writer and end the exposure of my family, but unsure of where to begin.
And now… now I have a wife. And not any wife, but Fran, the most beautiful, witty, intelligent woman I know.
“Now, then, Mr. Cowen, you’ve got that devilish broody look about you again,” she says, coming into the bedroom with a tray bearing a kettle and a steaming plate of eggs and sausage. “And that means trouble when you get all broody.”
“I’m not brooding.”
She slides the tray on the bedside table, then climbs in beside me. It’s then that I realize she’s only wearing one of my oversized tees, and it barely covers her full, gorgeous arse. I give her arse an appreciative squeeze, which makes her hiss in a breath.
“Jaysus, but you underestimate your strength, sir,” she says, then she squeals when I flip her over and pin her beneath me.
“Do I?” I easily capture her wrists between my fingers and hold her in place, my eyes blazing into hers. “I think I know exactly what I’m doing.”
She flushes. “Now that I won’t argue with.”
Soon, the tea grows cold, forgotten, as I divest her of what little clothing she wears, kiss her until she’s teeming with need and slick against my throbbing cock, then glide into her with a groan. Perfect. Fucking perfect.
I make love to her as the sun rises, her body supple and pliant beneath mine, until we both groan in pleasure then collapse, our skin damp, our breathing mingled.
She curls up onto my chest. “Seems like you can’t get your fill,” she says, placing her hand palm-down on my chest. “Which is fine with me.”
“How could I? You’re everything to me. I thought I lost you, not once, but many times over. I won’t ever take this for granted.”
“What?”
“Everything.”
The girls and Mum insist on a renewal of our vows.
“I thought people didn’t do that until like decades later?” Fran asks, but Nan corrects her.
“Not when you’re Cowen stock,” she says with a grin. “We take vows seriously, lassie.” She winks. “You ought to know that.”
“Oh, I do,” Fran says. “Thought we’d just have a party or something though, since we’ve already taken vows.”
“You took vows under duress,” Nan says. “And believe you me, we’ll have a party.”
And do we ever. It isn’t just our wedding we celebrate, though, but so much more.
The end to the danger that threatened us.
The reunion of a family.
A brother come back to life.
The promise of starting anew.
“Now, lassie,” I tell Fran, as I kiss her pretty cheek. I watch as the Clan celebrates around us. Trays of food are passed around, and glasses clink, as we give ourselves over to a full night of celebration.
“Yes?”
I brush my lips against hers. “It’s time for you to write the next story.”
“But I’m not writing anymore, Tate. You know that. No more Scottish, anyway.”
I kiss her again. “No, lassie. It’s time for you to write ours.”