The last thing Mac needed after dealing with two bridezillas in one afternoon was to come home to find Reid, Kaitlyn, and Holly in her living room.

“Welcome to your intervention,” said her cousin, cozied up at the end of Mac’s couch.

She didn’t need to ask who’d called Holly over from Oban for this hostile takeover of her living room; it was written on Reid’s I’m worried about you face.

“Sorry-not-sorry,” said Laura beside Mac. “But you really need this.”

Laura, who, come to think of it, had been awfully helpful in ensuring Mac got away from the boutique at five on the dot. Mac continued into the room, dumping her handbag on the island counter and ignoring the stares following her as she poured herself a glass of water. From the fridge she heard the wine calling but, nope, she needed a clear head. Not that her head had been anywhere near clear in the past three weeks since she’d last seen Joe.

“Why do I need the four of you ganging up on me?” She carried the glass to an armchair. A conveniently placed armchair that faced her three ex-friends and former cousin. Now they just needed to crank up the bright lights and bring out the waterboarding equipment.

Laura sat on the couch beside Reid, shooting him a you tell her glance.

“Because you’ve been an absolute bitch to work for these past three weeks,” Reid said.

“You refuse to talk to your friends about anything non-work-related,” Kaitlyn said from the second couch.

“I hear you crying in your room most nights,” Laura said gently. “And your entire wardrobe at home now consists of sweats and one of Joe’s tee shirts, which, by the way, needs to be laundered every once in a while.”

“Not to mention, you’re breaking Joe’s fucking heart and your own by making excuses not to see him,” Holly said.

Their accusations peppered like buckshot and stung like hell because they were all true. “I’m not making excuses. There was the Johnson-Bell wedding the week after yours I had to go to. Then, the weekend after, I wanted to spend time with Dad by going to his Saturday morning Thai cooking class so he didn’t have to go alone. And last weekend I had a shitload of paperwork to catch up on. I can’t go gallivanting off every weekend to be with Joe—my work’s here, my home’s here, I have a life here.”

“And you have the love of your life in Oban.” Holly folded her arms. “A man who loves you back and who’s as miserable without you as you are without him.”

“I’m not miserable,” Mac said.

“Yes, you are,” said the four of them together in perfect unison.

“Okay, yes, I am,” she agreed. “But as I said, my work’s here, my home is here, and you guys are here—bar Holly.”

“It’s a twenty-minute drive to the ferry and a one-hour crossing to Oban,” said Kaitlyn. “Or a forty-minute flight. Take your pick. We’re still close enough to kick your ass when necessary.”

“And, FYI,” said Laura with widened eyes and raised eyebrows, “you’ve spent the last eighteen months mentoring me with clients and day-to-day stuff. Totally competent manager here. You don’t need to be in the boutique five days a week.”

“They do have a little thing called the Internet in Oban,” Reid added. “E-mail is also popular and very versatile for those running an empire while not living on the mainland.”

“More importantly, home is where your heart is.” Holly shuffled forward to the edge of the couch and leaned with her elbows on her knees. “Where is your heart, sweets?”

“With Joe.”

Always with Joe. Every waking hour, the hollow gap in Mac’s chest expanded since her heart was across the turbulent stretch of Foveaux Strait with a certain amazing doctor. Texts and e-mails and video chats weren’t enough, and in the past week, they’d become more scarce because missing him, wanting him, loving him hurt so much more when she got a brief glimpse of his face or heard the lilting tone of his voice.

“What’s really holding you back?” Reid propped his bare feet up on the coffee table. “I know it’s not the same between you and Joe as it was with you and Richard. Joe gets you, and he’s all in, completely invested. Why are you still running?”

“Because if I stop, after a while, I might realize I’ve made a mistake. That what Joe and I have isn’t enough, isn’t meant to last.” The bottom of her stomach dropped into her shoes. “Or he might realize the same.”

And walk away from her, this time for good. Under all the bullshit, that’s what she was most scared of. That she wasn’t worth the fight. Yet, Joe had already proven that Mac was worth fighting for. He hadn’t given up on her, even when she’d found the most tender spot in his psyche and ground her stiletto heel into it as she’d fled their wedding in Vegas.

The five of them remained silent for a few moments until Kaitlyn cleared her throat.

“Look,” she said. “As a divorced woman, I’m probably not the best person to tell you everything’ll work out like it does in fairy tales, but the thing with fairy tales is you never see the effort that goes into a happily ever after. You don’t see Cinderella throwing her glass slipper at Prince Charming’s head because he looked at a lady in waiting the wrong way, or Beauty and her Beast sitting in marriage counseling because Beauty is ignoring their sex life and reading until the wee hours. Real life fairy tales take both of you working your asses off to make a relationship last. Are you prepared to do that work, or are you gonna sit back and be miserable, whining about how this once-in-a-lifetime love is gonna end before he’s even proposed?”

Mac’s gaze skipped between her friends. Suck it up, she ordered herself. Time to come clean. “Actually, we were going to elope in Vegas, but I kinda freaked out and left him at the altar.”

Four mouths dropped open.

Reid’s eyes narrowed on her. “I knew you and Joe must’ve had a huge fight for you to come home a day early, but shit, Mac. The guy showed up here to make sure you were okay. That isn’t someone who’ll take the easy way out when the going gets tough.”

“Joe forgave you for running out on him?” Holly shook her head. “Of course, he forgave you; he’s that kind of man.”

“Are you still engaged, then?” Kaitlyn asked.

“I don’t know,” Mac said. “We didn’t really talk about it after Hol’s wedding with everything that went on, but the ring he gave me is in his nightstand. I saw it when he went to grab a—it’s still there.” Her cheeks grew even hotter. Yeah, she’d spotted the wink of diamonds in the nightstand drawer next to the condom box, but he hadn’t mentioned it, and she was too scared to ask.

“Before we open the wine chilling in the fridge, the result of this intervention is clear.” Holly stood up. “You either relinquish some control here in Invers and sort your shit out with Joe. Or”—Holly pointed a gun-shaped finger at Mac—“you stay here dressed in your smelly clothes and rejoin the cobweb club with Reid, Laura, and Kaitlyn.”

The ‘cobweb club’ being a jokey name the four of them used to call themselves since their lack of regular sex threatened to dry out their private parts and leave them cobwebby from disuse. Now she had a sucky choice to make, but the answer was so obvious it would’ve been embarrassing, if she hadn’t already figured it out days ago. She’d been too scared, too proud to admit what she needed to do.

“Have I told you I really, really don’t like any of you lot?” Mac said.

Reid’s grin spread from ear to ear. “Many times. Guess none of us will get an invite to your wedding.”

Butterflies fluttered in Mac’s belly, and she took a long sip of water, which settled them right down. Because love trumped fear if that love was strong enough, big enough. And maybe Mac was only five foot three-and-a-smidge and couldn’t bench-press half her bodyweight if her life depended on it, but the most important muscle in her body was growing stronger by the day.

Her heart had been exercising, strengthening her trust, hope, and courage like a champion bodybuilder.

So she smiled at her friends. “If I play my cards right, you may be getting an invitation sooner than you think.”

* * *

Joe was writing out a script of antibiotics for Trent Hopper’s sinus infection, his last patient of the day, when a knock sounded on his door. He excused himself and set down his pen. Maggie stood on the other side, her eyes dancing with amusement.

“Sorry to bother you. I was making myself a cuppa in the kitchen when I noticed someone trying to break into your house—a small female someone,” she added in a whisper.

Joe’s pulse kicked into a sprint. He could only think of one female someone. The same female someone he hadn’t been able to stop thinking of, goddamn pining for, the past three weeks.

There was nothing wrong with Trent’s ears, since he piped up, “Would that be the doc’s special someone, Maggie?”

“It might,” she said.

“Do you mind waiting while I go and deal with this?” Joe asked.

He really hoped Trent didn’t mind because he wasn’t sure he could stop himself from sprinting out of his surgery right this instant. Then again, this was an island. And unless Mac intended to hijack a boat or swim back to the mainland, he had a little time.

Trent grinned. “Long as you don’t require backup.”

“I can handle a small female burglar.”

Joe unhooked the stethoscope from around his neck and handed it to Maggie, who took it with an eye roll.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she said. “Seems she’s been more than you can handle so far.”

Wasn’t that the truth? But that she was here—albeit trying to break into his house—must mean something.

“Won’t be long.” Then he paused. Actually, once he got his hands on his petite burglar, he just might be.

“Hang on a minute.” He lunged for the desk, scribbled his signature on his prescription pad, tore the sheet off, and slapped it into Maggie’s hand. “No charge for today.” He whirled around to Trent. “Take one capsule twice a day; you should feel better within forty-eight hours. I’ll give you a call tomorrow to check you’re improving.”

“I know the drill,” Trent said. “Now, go get her.”

Joe took off out the center’s back door and ran across the parking lot. The front of the cottage looked the same as it always did, the path leading to it empty except for a couple of kaka birds strutting around hoping to find a sucker to feed them. Had she gone already?

He strode down the side of the cottage, skidding to a halt at the curvy, blue-jean-covered arse half in, half out of one of the old-fashioned sash windows. One that led into his bedroom. One he’d left partially open since it was an unusually warm day, and nobody bothered much about bolting shut windows in Oban since the crime rate was negligible.

However, his cat burglar would have some explaining to do if one of his neighbors called Noah.

He cleared his throat. “Need a boost?”

The wriggling arse froze, one knee almost reaching the high sill, the other leg pointed down, sneakered toe scraping against the weatherboard to find purchase. A few four-letter words were muttered by the woman attached to the gorgeous arse and then a long, drawn-out sigh.

“Yes, please,” Mac said. “And then I’d appreciate if you wait five minutes before coming inside, so I can get back to my brilliant plan.”

Joe smothered a grin, even though he couldn’t see Mac’s head since her upper body was hanging over his windowsill. “I’m guessing that breaking and entering wasn’t part of your brilliance?”

“You think?” Mac huffed, her arse giving another delicious jiggle. “Next time, let a girl know when you relocate your spare key.”

“Sure you don’t want me to help you down, so you can walk in my front door?”

“Nope. I’m committed now. Boost, please.”

So, so tempted to lean in and give the firm mound a nip, Joe instead slipped his hand under a sneaker sole and lifted. Mac got her knee onto the sill and squirmed forward, dropping to the bedroom floor with a thud.

“Knew those gymnastic classes at primary school would pay off,” she said, still hidden below the window. “Now, go and wait for five minutes and pretend to be surprised when you come inside.”

“All right.”

He went to do as he was ordered with a flutter in his gut and a spring in his step. He stood out the front of the cottage and watched the kakas strut. Listened to the squawk of gulls circling above his head and the sough of the waves washing ashore on Halfmoon Bay beach while the sea breeze sifted through his hair.

Mac was inside his house, and hope began to surge through his veins in time with the rhythm of the waves. Whether she was here for an hour, a night, or the weekend, he’d take every moment and live in it with her. As long as he could find a way to keep her coming back to him, it’d be enough for now. It had to be.

Once he estimated five minutes had passed, Joe unlocked his front door and entered. The cottage creaked around him in welcome as he went through the empty kitchen and down the hallway to his bedroom. He opened the door and stepped inside. Mac sat on his rose-petal strewn-bed. She still wore her blue jeans, but now he could see her face was scrubbed of makeup, and her long blond hair was loose and un-brushed, tumbling over her shoulders.

“Hey,” he said. Maybe even a little breathlessly, as she was just that beautiful.

Then she smiled at him. A little nervous, a little hopeful, a little of everything that made Mac his. The stomach flutters eased. He’d rolled the dice and gambled his heart on this woman. Now he was about to find out how big a payoff he’d won.

Mac wasn’t much of a gambler. She didn’t buy a weekly lottery ticket, she was better at Snap than poker, and the only thing she’d won in a quick-fire raffle at a school fete was a cured leg of ham. In truth, the biggest risk she’d ever taken was buying Invercargill Bridal from Tabitha Lowe and transforming it into Next Stop, Vegas.

Until today. Specifically, until she’d decided to climb into Joe’s bedroom with a backpack of supplies and a plan that wasn’t so much brilliant as it was the act of an insanely in love woman. One who had nothing but pride left to lose. And Joe…but, God, she couldn’t allow that to happen.

“Hey,” she said in return.

Followed by an immediate brain freeze as the words of her practiced speech flew around inside her head like tossed confetti. Did she mention the insane part? Some of that was due to hormonal overload of being this close to him again, her body tingling as if it were yearning to snuggle up against him. Joe continued to watch her, his expression not giving anything away. Unfortunately, while she sucked at poker, he didn’t.

“Will you come sit next to me?” she asked.

Joe walked over to the bed and eased down beside her. His cologne curled into her nose, the masculine scent of it—of him—enough to sap the remaining strength in her legs. A shiver rippled through her, but before she could speak, Joe linked his fingers with hers.

“Take a steadying breath before you faint, darlin’,” he said. “There’s no rush and nowhere else I want to be but here with you.”

She looked at him then, really looked at him. The eyes she’d once thought the color of blue ice chips were warm on her face like the arc of a summer sky. Fine lines crinkled his forehead as he stroked a thumb over her knuckles, and she melted a little under the warmth of his concern.

“I’ve been an eejit,” she said. “And if these past few weeks were a chick flick, I would’ve been calling myself a number of unflattering names for being so dense as to not see what was right under my nose.”

“And that would be?”

“Dumbass, flighty cow, silly, stubborn bitch—”

He interrupted with a laugh. “No. What’s been right under your nose?”

“You have,” she said. “And how I feel about you—what I’ll always feel for you. I shouldn’t have run from you in Vegas; I should’ve stayed and used my words, like a grown-up.” She gave him a sheepish grin. “I figured out that if I continued to fear losing you, then I’d never know the happiness of loving you, and I want to love you every day for the rest of my life.”

“You believe me then, darlin’? That I won’t quit on you?”

“I believe you. I see how loyal you are to your patients here in Oban. I see how invested you are in their lives and your friends’ and family’s lives, and I know now that you’ll be just as committed as I am to making our marriage last a lifetime. It won’t be all champagne and roses, though.”

“Nothing worth fighting for comes with a free pass. And we’re worth fighting for.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry I tried to rush you into something you weren’t sure about when we’ll have that lifetime together.”

“I wasn’t sure about us getting married right then and there in Vegas, but I am sure about you.” She lifted their linked fingers and placed them on her denim-covered thigh. “Do you remember what I tell some of my brides?”

Joe’s nose scrunched up. “If you won’t get married in blue jeans, no makeup, and messy hair, then it’s about the wedding day and not the marriage.” His nose smoothed, and his eyebrows lifted. “Aha. You’re wearing blue jeans.”

He traced a fingertip down her jaw and tugged on a strand of her hair. Delicious prickles spread over Mac’s scalp from his touch.

“And no makeup, and your hair looks like you’ve stuck a finger in a power socket.”

“Let’s not be rude about my hair,” she said. “But yes, I’m making a point, a statement of intention.” She wriggled her fingers out of his grasp and leaned over to unzip her backpack at the foot of the bed. From it she pulled a white and gold spun cord, complete with tasseled ends.

“You’re planned to strangle me and bury my body on the Rakiura Track?” he said. “Do I really drive you that insane?”

She laughed. “Yeah, you really do. Insane with love.” She dangled the cord in front of him. “I want to be hand-fasted with you.”

“You want to be what?”

“You haven’t heard of hand-fasting? It’s an old country tradition.”

“Hang on—I do remember my granny saying something about it with her grandparents.” His gaze softened, a smile curving his mouth. “Been reading up on Irish customs, have we?”

“We have,” she agreed. “In the olden days, a couple would hand-fast and live together for a year as an engaged couple.” Heat crept onto her cheeks. “And were encouraged to consummate the relationship. After the period of one year, they’d decide whether or not they still wanted to get married.”

Mac held out her hand, and Joe took it. Between them both they managed to wrap the cord around their joined hands.

“I’m not sure what I’m meant to say,” Mac said, “but I want to be hand-fasted with you. I want to love you every day until forever. I want to make a home with you here and a home with you in Invers, until we can work out what’s best for us both. I want kids that’ll have amazing grandparents, uncles, and a very special auntie. I want to walk with you, talk with you, laugh with you, and take care of you on days when you’ve given everything of yourself to take care of other people. I won’t need a year to know you’re the man I want to marry. You’ll be the only man I say I do to.”

“That’s good to know because I’ll only ever say I do to one woman in my lifetime. And that’s you.”

Joe leaned in and kissed her until she was breathless.

Mac giggled as they tried to free the silken cord around their wrists, so she could twine herself around her man and bind him to her in another, more intimate way.

“We couldn’t possibly love each other more than we do right now,” she said.

“Yeah, we could.” The hand-fasting cord dropped to the floor, and Joe hauled her into his lap. “And we will.”