The bed whirred again and she sat straighter.
“You,” he said quietly.
“I love you. Ian, I love you.” A dam broke inside her and she reached for him as the words poured out. He wrapped his arm around her and brought her the rest of the way home. And then she was there, snug against him, kissing his mouth, his chin, his jaw, anywhere she could reach while saying “I love you” over and over again.
“Every day,” he said between kisses. “I need to hear you say it every damn day for the rest of our lives. Think you can handle me?”
She eased back, put her hands on his cheeks, and stared into his eyes. “I can handle you, Ian. It’s being without you that I can’t handle.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “Good, because you’re never going to get rid of me again.”
Epilogue
“You sure you’re ready to do this?”
Stacy met Kylie’s eyes in the mirror. “Hell yes. We’ve rehearsed and everything. Aren’t you?”
“Me? Yes. I can’t wait. But I know this whole thing was kind of my idea.” She bit her lip and gave Stacy the big, blue-eyed Bambi stare. “Now I’m worried I’ve rushed you. Maybe you need more time.”
“Nope.” For emphasis, she shook her head. “I’m good. Completely healed.”
“Physically, yes,” Kylie quickly agreed. “And you’ve never looked more beautiful.” Stacy watched in the mirror as Kylie smoothed nervous fingers along the short, silky skirt of Stacy’s dress. “But are you mentally prepared?”
Was she? She frowned. “I think I am. I mean, how hard can it be? One little strut down the line. All eyes on us. Give ’em a show when we get to the end, then we’re outta here. Easy.”
“Okaaaay. Just so you know, I think the plans leaked to the press. Doing this outdoors was probably a mistake. I can’t promise some paparazzi won’t get a shot. This could be splattered all ov
er the tabloids come tomorrow.”
Now she did feel some hesitation, only because that kind of publicity might not be what Kylie wanted. “I’m sorry. If you want to pull out, I completely understand.”
“No, no. I want to go for it. I don’t care who sees.”
What a sister. “If you’re good to go, I’m good to go.”
Kylie smiled, and happiness radiated off her in waves. “All right. I’ll stop stressing.”
“About time. You also look amazing, by the way. Sweet, classy, and hot as hell, all at the same time.” It was true.
Kylie blushed. “Thanks.”
A rap sounded on the opposite side of the door, and then Vern came into the small room. “You”—he pointed at Kylie—“and you.” He swung the finger toward Stacy. “Let’s go. The other girls got the crowd warmed up. It’s showtime.”
Stacy glanced at Kylie and lifted a brow. “Ready?”
Kylie nodded.
Vern offered them each an arm. They linked up and walked through the door, down a short, marble-floored hall and along a vine-covered pergola. She heard the music now and tried to pace herself accordingly. They reached the lawn. Sunlight streamed over a runner of white carpet. The pristine path bisected the assembly of guests standing in front of their white-slipcovered folding chairs, and ended at a rose-covered lattice arbor where several people waited. Beyond the arbor stretched a breathtaking view of the gleaming Pacific, but gorgeous as the ocean view was from the bluff-top perch of the Malibu estate they’d rented for this particular event, Stacy found her attention drawn to the people gathered in front of the arbor.
Ginger, Ari, and Lee Ann stood on the left, uncharacteristically elegant in shimmering silver sheaths. Opposite them stood the younger McCade brothers, two dark-haired, dangerously hot specimens molded from the same formidable clay as Trevor—Michael, the rough, tough, US Marine, and Logan, the MBA, which Stacy thought in his case ought to stand for Major Bad-Ass.
Then came Trevor, all restrained ruggedness in his black tuxedo, standing next to the placid-faced minister. Her eyes cut right, landed on Ian, and her heart did a little flutter. God, he looked so handsome. Tall and tanned and cover-model polished, but the civilized tux couldn’t conceal the energy coiled in his lean, hard body, or his innate, alpha-male assurance. That insanely gorgeous, sexy man right there loves you, a little voice whispered.
The music swelled, and then subsided when they reached the arbor. Vern snuffled loudly, cleared his throat, and said, “Thought you girls were smarter than this,” in a gruff stage whisper that sent a ripple of laughter through the audience. He kissed Kylie’s cheek, then turned to Stacy, swept her into a theatrically dramatic embrace, and planted a loud, smacking kiss on her. She raised a hand to her head to keep her hair from spilling out of its sleek twist, and used the other hand to feign some damsel-in-distress beating on Vern’s back.
He hauled her upright, tapped her chin lightly with his knuckles and said, “Best move you ever made, kid.” Then he was gone and the minister turned to Kylie and Trevor. Stacy watched, teary-eyed, as they pledged their love, their futures, their everything, to each other, and exchanged I-dos.
Then it was Ian’s turn. She watched his face as he repeated the minister’s words. No hesitation. Not a single stutter. He topped it all off with a slow smile delivered straight to her.