Chapter 61

61

B y the time Thursday rolls around, I'm going through cycles of feeling like the party preparation is on track to absolute panic over being behind. Henry and Theo run into town to grab some last-minute supplies, which means Dylan is the only one here to deal with my crazy moods.

"Why don't we take a drive and then go to the pub for dinner?" Dylan asks after I sign one too many times, taking my hand and tugging me into his arms. "It'll be like old times. Plus, I think a few beers may help take the edge off."

I laugh at his understatement. There's no thinking about needing a beer right now. I definitely need one. Or five. "That's a great idea. It feels like it's been forever since I've been to the pub. It'll be nice to see everyone."

I toss him the keys as we head out the door, my nerves so shot I don't think I should even be driving. I know part of the way I’m feeling is what's happening the night of the party. The pressure and anticipation are going to kill me.

"Isla?"

I look up, realizing we're parked in a small gravel parking area, a sign for Luskentyre Beach directly in front of us. "Sorry," I mumble, but Dylan is already outside the car, scrambling to open my door before I do. I take a deep breath as he pulls me out of the car and wraps a protective arm around my waist, willing my brain to chill out. When I toe off my shoes and dig my toes into the sand, the cobwebs finally start to clear from my mind , and I feel like myself again. We walk the half mile to the water and chase each other in and out of the waves, trying not to get wet. Dylan stops to pick up something, running to me with his find.

"What is this?" he asks, poking at the round ball in his palm. "Some sort of seed?"

"Sheep shit, Dylan. That's sheep shit."

He drops it like it burned him, glaring at me when I start laughing. "Why is there sheep shit in the ocean?"

"Have you seen any fences on the entire island? The sheep go where they want, including the beach. It's just the way it is."

"Gross. Maybe I don't want to live here after all."

I spin on my heel. "I can't believe you'd say–!" My heart nearly stops when I see him on his knee.

Tying his shoe.

Fuck. I slap my hand over my heart, bending at the waist, sucking in air. "Don't do that to me," I say raggedly.

"Do what?" he asks innocently, standing back up and having the audacity to look completely confused. I shake my head, too embarrassed to explain what just happened. I'm an idiot.

"Let's go get that beer you promised me," I say instead, grabbing his hand and tugging him back toward the car.

We get to the pub early enough in the evening that it's still fairly quiet. Dylan follows me to a booth in the corner, and once I'm seated, he heads to the bar to grab our drinks.

"This was a good call," I admit, taking the glass from him.

"Yeah?" he studies my face to make sure I'm telling him the truth.

"The second I stepped in here, it was like all the worry about the party disappeared. I don't feel guilty for sitting and relaxing like I did at home."

He takes a huge gulp of his beer. "Good." He gives me a goofy smile, foam covering his upper lip, before licking it off. My gaze follows the path of his tongue, remembering with vivid detail what that tongue can do between my thighs. I bury my face in my hands, attempting to cover the blush crawling up my cheeks.

"What's wrong?" he asks, reaching across the table to pry a finger from my eyes.

"What's wrong is that the three of you decided—wrongly, might I add—that my body needs a break until after the party."

"Isla, you were sore after the last time. Heck, you barely got off the couch the day after. The last thing we want is for you to be sore on the night we've been planning for so long. We want it to be perfect for you."

"I know," I sigh, taking a long drag of my beer. I realize they'll only ever do what's best for me, but right now, riding a hard cock seems like a great way to unwind.

Dylan expertly steers our conversation away from sex for the next couple of hours. I'm pleasantly buzzed by the time the pub regulars arrive, thoroughly enjoying the constant stream of visitors at our table for the next hour. When the band winds up, I pull Dylan to his feet, and we join everyone in the middle of the floor. Every single person is stomping and clapping, waiting for the next brave soul to jump into the circle and dance to the fiddle. After about ten minutes, Dylan tugs on my hand, drawing me into the center of the circle, twirling me around and around. After several minutes, he pulls me to a stop and claps loudly, getting everyone's attention.

"I want to thank everyone for the welcome you gave my brothers and me, even after the fiasco with our precious Isla here. I'm making a promise to all of you tonight that we will do right by her and keep running the pub the way she envisioned." He stops when a cheer goes up, smiling down at me. I swallow hard, my heart beating loudly in my ears. "I also want to let you know that Isla isn't going anywhere. She's opening a brewery at the castle later this year, and her offerings will be on tap here at the pub." Another cheer goes up, the fiddler playing a little ditty to show his excitement. "Lastly–" He turns to me, taking my hands and lowering his voice. "I had planned to do this privately, but it feels right to do it in front of all these people who love you." He clears his throat, those big brown eyes locking with mine. "Isla MacLeod, will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

I cover my mouth as he drops to one knee, fishing a box from his pocket. He flips the top open to reveal a band of alternating baguette diamonds and pieces of polished wood. It's gorgeous and earthy and will look absolutely amazing nestled against the ring Theo gave me.

Before I can say anything, he raises a finger, making me pause. "The diamonds are from a necklace that belonged to your mother. I took the wood from the bar behind you. I wanted to give you a ring that would have sentimental value."

My legs shake, and I drop to my knees in front of him, tears streaming down my face. "Goddammit, Dylan." I sniff, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand.

"I would have proposed earlier, but it took a while for the jeweler to make it," he says softly, cupping my face and wiping my tears away with his thumbs.

"Answer him!" someone calls out, his voice echoing around the room, others joining in until they're chanting it.

I hold my hand up, waiting until everyone quiets down. "Yes, Dylan. It will be the honor of my lifetime to be your wife." He takes my hand and slips the band on my finger before drawing me into his arms. Cheers and stomping feet shake the floor, and we break away from each other, laughing. Dylan stands, drawing me to my feet. The band starts up again–a slow song this time–and Dylan cradles me in his arms, swaying to the beat.

"I love you more than you'll ever know, Freckles." He presses his lips to mine, kissing me gently. "Thank you for saying yes."

"Thank you for asking," I whisper, grinning up at him.

"Like I ever had a choice," he scoffs, eyes sparkling. "I was a goner the second I laid eyes on you."