* * *
‘She’s here.’
Glancing up, Ragnar felt the twist in his stomach muscles loosen. Behind him, his brother and best man Rob gave his shoulders a reassuring squeeze.
‘Shall I get the bridesmaids?’
Ragnar glanced over to where a giggling Sóley was holding hands with his sister Marta. Their blonde hair was gleaming in the sunlight, their faces tipped back as they fled from his brother, Gunnar, across the black sand.
‘No, it’s okay. They’re having fun.’
Turning his head, he gazed at the rest of his family. They were standing in a casual semi-circle, and his eyes moved slowly from one smiling face to the next.
It was true—everyone was having fun. There had been no arguments or tears or sulking. He felt an ache around his heart. They were all trying so hard, because they loved him. And he loved them as he always had, only now it felt so much easier to love and be loved.
He felt his gaze pulled back across the sand to where Lottie was walking towards him.
And that was down to her.
Lottie had made this happen.
She had made him stronger. And kinder. She and Sóley had made loving as simple and natural for him as breathing, so that now he found it difficult to understand how he’d survived for so long living as he had.
But everything was different now—particularly him. He no longer kept those he loved most at arm’s length—and, incredibly, now that they could come and go at will, his family seemed like different people too, less intense, less demanding.
More fun.
That word again.
It was so not what his life had been about before, but now he had fun every day.
A flicker of heat skimmed over his skin. He had passion too. And tenderness. But most of all he had a love that was as warm and bright and unending as the summer solstice—and that was why he’d wanted Midsummer’s Day to be their wedding day.
Straightening the cuffs of his dark suit jacket, he breathed out unsteadily.
Lottie stopped in front of him, her hand trembling against her brother’s arm, her face soft and serious.
He stared at her, his pulse beating in time to the waves curling onto the beach.
She looked amazing. Fitted to her waist and then spilling out in layers of tulle, her white dress was perfectly offset by the black of the sand beneath her feet. She was holding a bunch of wild flowers picked by Sóley and Marta from the fields surrounding the house, and her hair was loosely caught up at the base of her neck.
She had never looked more beautiful. And, meeting her gaze, he felt the ache in his chest intensify.
Her eyes were shining with tears of emotion, and the same emotions that were shining in his eyes were filling his heart. A happiness like no other, and a gratitude that life had let them find one another not once but three times—a statistic that had no basis in logic and was just the beautiful, disorderly, topsy-turvy mathematics of love.
‘You look beautiful,’ he whispered.
The celebrant stepped forward and smiled. ‘Shall we begin?’
As they spoke their vows tears were sliding down his face—tears he would never have allowed to fall before meeting her.
Finally, they exchanged rings, and the celebrant smiled again. ‘And now you may kiss, as husband and wife.’
They each took a step forward and then, as he lowered his mouth to hers, she leaned towards him and they kissed, softly at first, and then more deeply, to the appreciative applause of their watching families.
‘I can’t believe we’re married,’ she whispered, gazing at the gold band on her finger.
‘I can’t believe I made us wait so long.’ Cupping her face in his hand, he brushed his mouth against hers. ‘But it had to be this day.’