Four months later…

“Y’sure about this?” Kyle said from Joe’s left as they strolled toward Halfmoon Bay beach. “Because even though all of Oban’ll be there today, we can still make a getaway on one of those fishing boats. As best man number one, I’m happy to split the expense.”

“You’re best man number two, arsewipe,” Luke said on Joe’s right. “Anyway, it’s not Joe bailing we need worry about.”

Joe shoulder-checked both his younger brothers without breaking stride or rumpling the white button-down shirt he wore. “Both of you, shut yer gobs. Nobody’s running anywhere.”

“Third time’s the charm, right, Joey?” Luke said.

Yep, MacKenna had felt the need to come clean with his family about the Vegas affair. Surprisingly, his whole family thought Mac fleeing through a casino in her wedding gown a grand hoot, something they’d teased them about in the previous months while Mac was seamlessly accepted into the Whelan clan. Joe had worried that Mac’s admission would cause his parents to form doubts regarding his and Mac’s commitment to each other, but his mam had set him straight.

She’d gently cuffed his head. “Considering Mac’s background, I would’ve had doubts about you two eloping in Vegas. She just needed some time to get used to the idea that Whelans fall hard and fast.”

“And forever,” he’d added.

“And forever,” his mam had agreed. “And I can tell she knows you’re her forever, too.”

Good enough for Joe.

“Call me Joey again, and I’ll strangle you with your own bow tie,” he said as they reached the foreshore road, and—a hand-painted sign on a stick that said:

Runaway bride this way.

With love hearts and an arrow pointing toward the beach in front of Due South.

Butterflies fluttered to life inside Joe’s stomach, wheeling around like the seabirds surfing the air currents above. Oban had outdone itself weather-wise on this sunny February day, with only a light breeze ruffling his hair and the harbor waves barely tiny ripples. Late afternoon summer sunshine beat down on his head, and he was thankful Mac had shopped at Russell’s grocery store earlier that week and bought him some extra-strength underarm deodorant.

Kyle snorted and elbowed him. “Your girl’s got a sense of humor.”

“She has,” Joe said. “One of the many things I love about her.”

They continued to walk along the road and soon spotted the large crowd of people standing on the beach. Among the crowd would be his parents and Kerry and Aaron, who—

yeah, yeah—were very much in love. He’d been wrong about them and wrong about Mac in the beginning, too. Luckily, she’d shown him the error of his ways.

“She’s sneaky, too,” Luke added. “How she found a secret place in your tiny house to paint a sign, I’ll never know.”

“In her sewing room, eejit,” Kyle said. “Joe’s not dumb enough to trespass among all her half-finished dresses and beads and shit. He’d be a dead man.”

“True,” said Joe. “I stay out of her way when she’s working in there.”

He’d willingly cleared out the small, second bedroom of his boxes of junk so Mac had space to set up a sewing machine and the other equipment she needed to work on her one-off gowns. She’d delegated most of the responsibility of Next Stop, Vegas to Laura, and Reid had almost doubled the wedding-planning side of Mac’s business in the past four months. Leaving his fiancée to do what she loved most—create beautiful, breathtaking gowns to make each and every one of her brides feel special.

They reached the children’s playground and the stretch of grass opposite Due South. Staked into the ground by the giant playable chess grid, was another hand-painted sign.

I really, really love you, Joe Whelan. This bride will never run away again.

His feet moved faster, carrying him across the grass to the low bank that dropped down to the sand. His friends were at the back of the crowd—Ford, Harley, Ben, Del, Kip, and West—six big guys who blocked Joe’s clear view of the wedding arch, where he’d wait for Mac to walk down the aisle. He was about to tell them to move when West spotted him and nudged his brother, Del—who in turn nudged Ben. Within seconds, all six of his mates had half turned toward him.

“About time you showed up,” West said. “We were starting to get worried.”

Wait—what?

Joe was exactly on time—thirty minutes before the wedding was due to start. He slanted a side eye at Kyle, who gave him the kind of innocent stare he used as a kid after stealing a piece of Joe’s brack. Joe’s eyes narrowed, scanning the very full crowd of locals who, come to think of it, were all here earlier than he’d expected and curved in a protective semicircle around the arch. The arch itself was draped in fabric with cheery orange flowers—gerberas—he remembered now. Mac had asked him if he had a color scheme preference, and he’d laughed and said no, kissing her until flower colors were the last thing on her mind.

His mates stepped aside, and the sand aisle stretched in front of him, down to the floaty orange dresses worn by Mac’s bridesmaids, Holly and Kaitlyn, and her male attendant, Reid, who wore a smirk and a matching orange bow tie.

Wait—what? Again.

What were Mac’s bridesmaids and Reid doing here before him? He glanced around the crowd one more time, at the smiling faces and laughing eyes. Then his gaze was drawn back to the front when Holly, Kaitlyn, and Reid stepped aside and revealed Mac. His perfect, tiny, gorgeous MacKenna who’d been standing behind her friends.

For the life of him, he couldn’t have described the dress she must’ve spent hours creating. All he saw was it draping over the curves of her body, falling in a foamy puddle of white on the sand. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, the sunlight gleaming through the silken strands and the sheer veil that trailed down her back. He was pretty sure his heart stopped at the sight of her for a count of five while he drank her in.

The words of an old Irish blessing rose in his mind.

You for me and I for thee and never another. Your face turned to mine and away from all others.

He’d never, ever be able to turn his face from Mac. Not if they lived the next half-century wrapped in each other’s arms.

“I wanted to make sure you knew how much I wanted to marry you, Joe,” Mac called from the front. “So I decided to get here a little early, so you wouldn’t have to wait.”

Her smile was enough to bring him to his knees, but instead, he stepped down onto the sand, his brothers at his side.

“Dude, you’re leaking,” Ford stage-whispered, waving a crumpled-up tissue at him.

Joe saw it in his peripheral vision, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Mac. “Of course, I’m leaking,” he said, loud enough for the whole congregation to hear. “I’m about to turn this runaway bride into my wife.”

And, heart pounding, he continued down the aisle to take Mac’s hand, which he never intended to let go of again.

* * *