Page 92 of The Last Kelpie

“Yup. He saved that one for you.”

“It's wonderful, but I need something more than sweets.”

“I may have snagged two plates of grilled fish and veggies too.”

“Och, I love you.”

I chuckled. “If I'd known all it would take to get you to say that was food, I would have fed you sooner.”

Áedán went still, staring at me. “I'm so lucky Julian sent you.”

“If I recall, you implied that he'd sent you an idiot.” I teased.

“That's called flirting.” Áedán leaned over and kissed me. “You havenae said it back.”

“Oh! I'm sorry. I love you too.”

“I ken.” He took another bite of dumpling, and headed for his cottage.

I rolled my eyes and followed him. “If you ken, why did you need to hear it?”

Áedán grabbed his tea and took a sip before handing it back. “Because I like to hear it. You dinnae say it enough.”

“I don't, eh? Well, I'll make more of an effort.”

“As you should.” He nodded. Then he grinned. “It was a good day.”

“It was. You were amazing.”

“Thank you. I have to admit I'm looking forward to tomorrow.”

“Me too.”

We crossed the bridge and headed into the woods. I kept handing him his tea when he reached for it, but we continued in silence until we reached his cottage. The whir of Mateo's generator carried to us, lights blazing in his tent. It was back to its spot behind the cottage.

“Maybe I should get one of those.” Áedán nodded at the tent.

“A Mateo?” I scowled at him.

He snorted. “Nae, a generator. I think I may need a coldbox.”

“A refrigerator?” I looked at him in surprise.

“Well, I have to keep my laddie happy and well-fed.” Áedán winked at me.

“You're going to modernize the cottage for me?”

“We talked about living together when this was over. Have you changed your mind?”

“No, of course not. I'd move in today if you'd have me.” I went into the cottage and shut the door after he entered.

In the dark, he pulled me against him one-handed and whispered in my ear, “Oh, I'll have you, Ethan Clarke. And I'll keep you too.”

We kissed—me holding his tea and him holding his dumpling. It was sweet and comfortable, the type of kiss a couple shared after a nice date. It felt so normal and wonderful in its normalcy.

Then he eased back, set his dumpling on the table, and went to light the oil lamps. As he did that, I lit the fire. And when the cottage was warm and golden, we went to sit at the table where our dinner waited.

After a few bites, Áedán put his fork down. “Will this be enough for you?”