Makena

“Wow,” Quinn says, tears in her eyes as she grips my hand. “You look beautiful. That dress is absolutely stunning.”

I designed it myself. Along with the bridesmaid dresses that Quinn, Emer, Delaney, and Bree are wearing.

“It’s not too much?” I ask, glancing in the full-length mirror and taking in the pale satin dress that hugs my waist and hips, flaring out around my knees.

“It’s perfect,” Emer says beside me, holding out a bouquet of white lilies for me to take.

We’re having a small ceremony. Just Shane’s family, and my mom and a few of my cousins. I didn’t want anything extravagant, which disappointed Agnus. But she seemed happy enough that Shane was finally settling down that she didn’t put up too much of a fuss.

Standing in the master bedroom of the house Shane had built overlooking the lough, I can see the guests taking their places in the rows of chairs below me. The windows are one-way, giving us privacy, and allowing me a chance to observe the beautiful man who paces nervously in front of the makeshift altar.

I smile as I watch him, his fingers beating out a silent melody like they always do when he’s thinking. As if sensing me, he glances up, and a grin tugs at his lips. He can’t see me, but somehow, he knows I’m watching him.

My stomach does the little flip-flop thing it always does when that grin is directed at me, and I sigh, my heart full.

“You look happy,” Emer says, standing beside me, her hands resting over the almost unperceivable baby bump.

I thought Shane would have a slight fit when she announced she was expecting again, knowing his dreams of touring would be delayed further. But he’d been good about it, surprising me by teasing Owen and Bree about when they were going to join the ankle-biter club.

Which I doubt will be anytime soon.

Bree’s career is soaring right now, her newest single sitting at the top of the charts, and she’ll be gone with Owen for a few months on tour. I have a feeling they’ll wait until after it’s over before even thinking about starting a family.

I glance over at the women in the room, and I know how lucky I am to have them all in my life.

Agnus and my mom sit chatting away conspiratorially. In true Irish fashion, Agnus invited my mom to stay with her while she’s here. And I’m surprised by how much Agnus has been able to get her out of her shell. Shane told me that they had a night out at a pub recently.

“I think my mom’s trying to convince yers to move in with her?” Emer had told me a couple of days ago.

“You’re kidding.”

“It would be good for both of them.” There’s something almost devious in the way she says it. “Mom needs someone around to help remind her to take her heart medication. And she’s really enjoying the company. And from what ye’ve told me, yer mom could use a little Irish hospitality.”

Emer wasn’t wrong. The two of them had grown close, and it would be nice to have her on the same side of the ocean as me.

I watch them now, heads together, laughing, and a grin pulls at my lips. I’m glad she’s finally found some happiness.

“Here,” Bree says, approaching and handing me a small green box tied with a white ribbon. “I had this made for you.”

“What is it?” I untie the ribbon and open the box, pulling out the small, sterling silver bracelet with a small charm on it.

“It’s the Dara Knot,” Bree says, taking it from me, then helping me place it around my wrist. “It’s represents family. Roots. Home. You’re part of our family now. I thought it was appropriate.”

“Thank you.” I hug her, tears gathering in my eyes. “But I’ll never forgive you if you make me cry and ruin my make-up.”

Bree laughs.

“Neither will I,” Quinn says, looking terrified that I’ll spill a tear and ruin her handiwork.

Both Emer and I chuckle.

“I just got a text from Cillian,” Delaney says, handing Axel over to Agnus. “They’re ready. It’s starting.”

I take a deep breath, and take my mom’s arm when she moves to stand beside me.

“I’m proud of you,” she says when the others have gone, her brown eyes misty with unshed tears. “You really inspire me.”

I furrow my brows at her. “Why?”

“Because you faced something that would normally crush a person’s spirit. But you didn’t give up. You could have. And I wouldn’t have blamed you. But you had the strength to take another chance on love. On happiness. Knowing there was a chance your heart could be broken again. I wish I had half of your strength.”

I squeeze her hand. “There’s still time to find love, Mom.”

“Maybe,” she says, and there’s a flicker of hope in her eyes.

A guitar begins to play as I exit the house and start down the petal-covered grass toward the man who gave me the courage to love again.

He’s all rough edges, with a cocky, lopsided grin that promises trouble. Even in a tux, the man has a wildness about him, and I know he’ll never be able to shake that bad boy persona, even though I know his heart is mine, and mine alone.

Dimples cut into his cheeks when he sees me, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“Gorgeous,” he says for my ears only when I reach him.

My heart flutters again.

This man. He’s everything.

I say my vows, barely getting through the words that I wrote myself. “I promise you all of my tomorrows.”

He kisses me hard then, even though he hasn’t said his own vows, resulting in laughter and applause, followed by the minister’s cough.

Shane just grins down at me when he pulls back, not even slightly sorry for it, and I chuckle.

He lets me slip the ring I had designed for him onto his finger, then takes my hand.

“Makena.” He says my name like I’m the only one here, and my knees go weak.

He still has that power over me.

His gaze holds mine, and his expression goes serious. “I used to live my life like I wouldn’t get a tomorrow. I never believed anything could complete me the way music did. I didn’t know it then, but I was lost. Empty. Unsatisfied. I was always searching for the next high.”

He shifts slightly, and takes a deep, steadying breath.

“And then I met ye. And yer heart captured my soul. Ye soothed me, and burned through me at the same time. Ye made me realize that I didn’t have to be afraid of not getting enough tomorrows.”

He slips the ring onto my finger, holding my hand in his large one.

“Ye know I’m not good with mushy words. But I promise ye this, love. I’ll love ye to my dying day.”