Epilogue
MURRAY
There was a small part of me that was envious watching Taran walk down the aisle toward Quinn. Seeing him surreptitiously wipe the tears from the corner of his eyes at his bride’s approach, I felt a pang of regret that I didn’t experience that moment with London.
My gaze moved to my wife who stood at the edge of the altar with Tierney, Cammie, and Quinn’s daughter Heather.
London looked stunning in a pale green dress, her hair pinned up in pretty curls and braids like a princess.
She must have felt my stare because our eyes connected as Taran drew to a stop across from Quinn.
I shifted restlessly beside Kelly, wishing London were down here with us.
Mum was on Kelly’s other side. The old castle’s ballroom was filled with seats and fairy lights and florals and all that wedding stuff.
But thick stone walls and a lack of air-con made it stuffy, especially when you were wearing wool.
It wasn’t so much my kilt that bothered me but the wool Argyll jacket and matching waistcoat. I was dying to rip the damn things off.
Trying to ignore my discomfort, I somehow managed to drag my eyes off my sexy wife and concentrate on the ceremony.
Taran’s and Quinn’s vows were unsurprisingly emotional, considering the many years they’d spent apart.
Only now that I had experienced that kind of love with London did I fully appreciate how fucking awful it must have been for my friend to be without the woman he loved for all that time.
I’d never been happier for him.
A sniffle beside me brought my attention to Kelly and Mum.
Kelly was blinking rapidly, trying to hold back tears while Mum dabbed at her nose and eyes with a handkerchief.
Tender amusement filled me and a quick look around at the guests revealed they were not the only ones succumbing to tears.
Even Forde was uncharacteristically misty-eyed as he stood at Quinn’s side as his best man.
When the officiant pronounced Taran and Quinn husband and wife, the cheer from the guests was uproarious.
We stood to watch them walk down the aisle together, Forde following along with Heather at his side.
Cammie, Tierney, and London moved behind them.
My wife smiled at me as she passed, and I curbed the urge to reach out for her.
“She looks so beautiful,” Mum murmured, patting my arm.
“Aye, she does that.”
“I’m going over to speak to Anna, is that okay?
” Kelly asked as we gathered in one of the drawing rooms, waiting for the ballroom to be reconfigured into the reception hall.
Servers moved around the guests, handing out glasses of champagne, orange juice, and wee canapés that did nothing to abate my grumbling stomach.
I’d recovered my wife and greeted the bride and groom before they moved on to speak with more guests, trying to make their way around everyone.
Taran and Quinn were practically bursting with their joy, and it was a wee bit contagious.
Mum was off talking to a friend. It seemed almost everyone in Leth Sholas had been invited to this shindig.
“Aye, of course,” I answered Kelly’s request.
She was gone without another word.
London giggled and moved closer into my side. “Have I told you lately how sexy you are in that kilt?”
I quirked an eyebrow, fucking delighted. “Really?”
“Mmm.” She leaned in, lowering her voice. “I might have had a fantasy or two about you after seeing you play in the band wearing a kilt. But the whole regalia is hot.”
“Are you trying to torment me by saying these things wearing that dress when I can’t respond appropriately because ironically my appropriate response would be quite inappropriate in public?”
London laughed, her eyes sparkling, cheeks flushed.
The last few weeks had been better. Not easy, but definitely better as the three of us healed together rather than shoving all our fears and worries out of sight.
Kelly was back at school, and I think it was a good thing, getting her back into routine, busy with schoolwork and friends.
Tierney had found a new chef for the B and B, and London and I had begun discussing plans for her culinary school.
She’d agreed to take over one of the holiday lets I’d suggested but insisted on paying for the renovations herself.
It was a good compromise.
Seeing her now, her whole demeanor lighter, happier … it was more than I could have hoped for after the summer we’d had. I’d never experienced anything like the last few months. It never occurred to me that some of the most exhilarating, blissful moments could be entangled with some of the darkest.
I aimed to leave the darkness behind.
London reached up, fiddling with a button on my waistcoat. “It’s probably a good thing Kelly is spending the night at Anna’s.”
Arousal was swift and hot as my gaze dropped to my wife’s cleavage. Her boobs looked amazing in her bridesmaid dress. “I thought bridesmaid dresses were supposed to be ugly,” I murmured gruffly.
“Taran would never.” She leaned closer. “You like it, then?”
An image of burying my face in her luscious tits filled my mind and I flushed, clearing my throat. “It’s very nice,” I croaked, taking a sip of champagne.
“So, you want me to leave it on or take it off later? Because I want you to leave the kilt on while I ride you.”
I choked on the alcohol, coughing and spluttering as London’s shoulders shook with laughter and guests turned to stare at us. Glowering at her as I took the napkin she handed me, I was only pretend outraged. The wicked wee temptress excited the hell out of me.
“Sorry. That was poorly timed.”
“I think you timed that perfectly, so don’t pretend otherwise.” I bent my head to brush my mouth over hers and as I pulled back, I murmured, “FYI, I always want you naked when you ride me.”
London’s breath hitched, her cheeks flushing beautifully.
“But now you have to stop if we’re to make it through the rest of this wedding.” I straightened. “Or everyone will know I lust after my wife.”
“Well, we have a problem then, because I want everyone to know my husband lusts after me.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m going to mingle with the other guests, but just know while I’m gone, I’m thinking of nothing but you and your glorious cock.”
A splutter behind us had me warily glancing over my shoulder. Mrs. Gilchrist was patting her chest, her glass of champagne on the verge of tipping as she stared wide-eyed at us.
“Oh my god. Are you all right?” London flushed guiltily, hurrying to take the glass of champagne from the older woman.
Mrs. Gilchrist waved away her offer of help as the last of her coughs dissipated. “Apparently”—her gaze flicked to me mischievously before returning to London—“I’m not nearly as all right as you are.”
I let out a bark of laughter at London’s reddening cheeks.
She excused herself and I bent to whisper in her ear as she passed, “Don’t let that stop you from thinking of me.”
Her glance back was wicked. “Nothing on earth, Mr. Shaw. Nothing on earth.”
I watched her walk over to Cammie and I knew my heart was probably in my eyes.
“Well, that was a wee bit more than I needed to know about you, Murray Shaw.” Mrs. Gilchrist patted me on the back as she passed. “But I’m happy for you, nonetheless.”
“What was that about?” Forde appeared at my side, watching the older woman shuffle off.
“You don’t want to know. I’m sure you’ve had your fill of lovey-dovey stuff today.”
The mechanic shrugged. “Och, it’s different with Taran and Quinn. They deserve this.” His attention snagged on something and I followed it, finding my wife and Cammie.
“You two talking to each other yet?”
His lips twisted. He knew I referred to Cammie. “We’re not not talking to each other. Though it sounds like we won’t have the opportunity soon. Did you hear?”
“Hear what?”
“Cameron is taking a sabbatical from her business. Traveling around the world for a few months. Leaving the dreary island winter behind.”
At his glum expression, I asked hesitantly, “Do you want to talk about it?”
He scoffed. “There’s nothing to talk about.” Forde’s gaze swung around the room. “I thought there would be more out-of-towners here to indulge in a wee bit of wedding fun.”
I doubted somehow even if there were that Forde would sleep with one of them. My friend was seriously in denial.
I hoped for his sake he’d pull his head out of his arse. Soon.
“There’s nothing like it, you know.”
“Like what?”
“The love of a good woman.”
Forde opened his mouth and I expected a sarcastic response. But his mouth slammed shut and he just shrugged. “I don’t think fate has that in mind for me. Glad you’ve got that, though, mate.” He strode off before I could reply.
If he’d allowed me, I would have told him he was wrong.
Looking over at my wife, watching her animated expression as she chatted and laughed with Cammie and Tierney who had now joined them, I knew fate played only a small part in what I had with London.
Aye, fate had brought her to Glenvulin, blowing her in on the tides of Leth Sholas.
But we were the ones who had made the choice to get married.
We battled past our own issues to be brave enough to let each other in.
We’d cracked a light open in each other, and were working toward accepting that light could only be appreciated after living with nothing but dark.
Aye, we’d found twilight together after years of constant midnight.
London’s head turned to me. Her laughter softened in a tender smile filled with such love I felt a tug on my chest. It was that invisible thread that stretched between us from the moment we’d met.
But the strength of it now … fate couldn’t take credit for that.
That was all us. We got to claim credit for that. We’d earned the right, she and I.
“A ghràidh,” I mouthed.
London softened in that way she only ever did for me as she mouthed in return, “Tha. Gaol. Ackam. Ort.”
****