Epilogue
THE FOLLOWING JULY
‘You ready?’ Sean’s deep voice thrummed as if vibrating from the depths of the loch.
Cherry nodded. Was this nuts? Yes, this was nuts.
She was chest deep in loch water in a matching white vest and leggings.
Her husband was facing her in nothing but swimming shorts and a white Jacobean Ghillie shirt, now drenched, affording her a front-row view of every rippling muscle in his upper body and shadows of his tattoos through the soaked fabric.
The dream had been him in a kilt to go with the shirt, but the weight made it a drowning hazard, and they were too deep in the water for it to show in any photos.
The photos that all of Sean’s family would be taking from the shore of the loch.
Also holding a camera was Cherry’s mum. Who would have thought Pamela Paradise would be standing there, side by side with Amanda Butler as if they’d been friends forever rather than having met last night?
It warmed Cherry’s heart, even if it also made her a little nervous.
If all they talked about was colour swatches, fine.
She couldn’t contemplate anything else, not today.
Cherry turned to her loch-soaked husband, the man taking her breath from her one married day at a time. And none more so than today, for his willingness to say yes to her whimsy.
She cradled her arms around his neck. ‘Thank you, Seany.’
He pulled her in. ‘What for?’
‘Everything. For marrying me one year ago, for sticking with me, for loving me, for renewing your vows today and, mostly, for humouring me on this.’
‘Listen, nothing makes me happier than doing this, Cherry. I could never for the life of me work out what was the point in me learning how to do it. Cara and Eilidh always told me that it would help me sweep some woman off her feet one day, and now I realise that, for once, they were right.’
‘Come on!’ Voices called from the shoreline. ‘Do the lift! Do the lift!’
Sean leaned back a little and smoothed Cherry’s hair from her hairline.
‘Before we do this, I have something to say, too.’ He lowered his hands to cup her cheeks.
‘This past year has been the best of my life. Right after the worst thing happened, the very best thing came along. Sometimes I look at you, and I don’t actually know what to say.
Hard to believe, right? You fit so perfectly into Kinshore, into my family, my life. I love you, Cherry, so, so much.’
Cherry smiled, salt tears mingling with fresh loch water down her cheeks. ‘Oh Sean. You make loving you so easy. I love you, too.’
Tenderly but briefly, he kissed her. ‘Let’s get going before we freeze to death. I’d like to know more than one wedding anniversary.’
Cherry was keen to get moving, too. It might be July, but the loch water was cool and pooling even cooler around her feet. Cramp was the last thing either of them needed.
Once again, powerful, muscular hands rested on her hips, this time with intent. Intent to raise her right above his head – with a little assistance from those barrel-making arms.
‘Is this how you hold one of your casks?’ she asked.
‘You’re obsessed with how I hold my casks. Are you jealous?’
‘Damn right, I am.’ For a year, Cherry had playfully been asking Sean to do foreplay and make love to her in the manner of building a whisky barrel.
The only response she got was laughter and him telling her he was more than willing to cater to any of her bedroom fantasies, but he had no idea how exactly that one would play out.
‘With craft and precision,’ she’d said.
‘Don’t I always bring craft and precision to the bedroom? You want me to bring a hula hoop and pretend it’s a barrel hoop?’
The answer to the first question was undeniably yes. The second one… She told him she was willing to try anything. The hula hoop was on her shopping list.
Sean waved to his expectant, exuberant family on the shoreline. ‘They’re causing noise pollution, so let’s go. Bend your knees. That’s what Johnny says, right?’
‘Yes. And they’re bent.’
‘Okay, one, two, three…’ And in one swift, confident motion, Sean lifted Cherry out of the water, the temperate July air skimming warmly over her skin as he raised her with complete confidence over his head, holding her there, balanced like a soaring ballerina, arms out, gazing across the glittering blue of the summer loch towards the distant heather-dusted mountains.
A moment she would treasure forever.
A few metres away, on the pebbled shoreline, the Butler family were cheering, whooping and shouting things about the time of their lives.
But Cherry concentrated on how complete, safe and fortunate she felt with Sean holding her.
And the beauty of the dramatic Kintyre landscape.
Gazing to the wonder ahead, not down. Never looking down.
‘Let me know when you’ve had enough.’
‘What if I never have enough?’
‘Then I guess we stay here forever. It’s not a problem for me, although we might get hungry. And Meowchel will wonder where we are.’
Wee Meowchel J Fluff, very much part of the furniture and fabric of their home now. And who made sure, by the timbre of his meow, that he never went without a meal or snack.
‘Just a moment or two more. I never want to forget this.’
And Sean held her there, until she asked him to bring her back to him, down and into his arms again. Because that was where she belonged. No one held her like Sean did.
And as it happened, no one dunked her under the water like Sean did and lifted her back up, laughing and carrying her to shore like he’d carried her over the threshold one year ago.
No one did anything quite like Sean Butler.
And no one could love him right to his very heart quite as much as Cherry Paradise.
The End