Page 127 of When the Laird Takes

For a moment, the dock fell silent. The waves, the screams from all corners, and the sound of the occasional seagull all faded into the background.

“Look at ye,” he murmured, a smile resting easy on his face. “Walking straight at the thing ye feared and dragging me along with ye.”

“Well, someone must,” she quipped.

He let out a short, shaky laugh. Then the space between them vanished. He pulled her in and kissed her there on the pier, with tar under his boots and salt in the air.

A few men nearby whooped and then found reasons to turn away. Once, they might have jeered. Today, they kept their mirth to themselves.

Emma did not care who watched. When they broke apart, she rested her forehead against his.

“I love you,” she said. The words sat steady in her mouth.

“I love ye too,” he answered. “And I cannae wait to meet our dear little boy.”

She looked up at him. “Really?”

He shrugged. “What? Ye daenae think it is going to be a boy?”

“I think it is too early to tell.”

“‘Tis never too early.”

She laughed in response, and his hand stayed on her belly.

Behind them, the ship rocked where it was tied, held instead of calling him away. Ahead, the path up to the castle waited, stone catching the light.

A life was coming, and she couldn’t be more excited to meet it together.

The End?