Page 84 of Sullivan

My throat suddenly got tight.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“And you’ll wear this.” He slipped a hand into his pocket, holding up a pretty necklace. It shimmered in the light, a Celtic symbol with a central ruby that gleamed a deep red. It was surrounded by tiny diamonds and other rubies—delicate and beautiful.

“I know you don’t like bracelets, but you wear necklaces.”

“Yes,” I whispered. “Is that a tracker like the girls wear?”

“It is.” He turned it over, showing me the back. “That flat piece there—you push it, and it sends a signal.”

“To whom?”

“Finn and Niall. Evan. Davey. Me—at least for now. Once I’m overseas, it won’t reach that far. But this makes me worry less.” He paused, meeting my eyes. “Will you wear it?”

“Yes.”

He put it on me and studied it with a satisfied nod. “Beautiful.”

Then he made me press the button. His phone pinged and almost instantly rang. He answered quickly. “Evan—yes, just the test I told you I would do. Yes, tell them to stand down. Davey too. It’s working. Thanks.”

“Evan was meeting with the boys and they all got the alert, so I know it works,” he explained.

“Okay.”

We stared at each other. Emotion welled in my chest, and I had to look down for a moment, worried I would start crying.

His voice suddenly became thicker. “You come to me as soon as you can.”

I lifted my head, meeting his eyes. “I will.”

“Take care of yourself, mo fhiadh beag. Don’t forget to eat. And if you need me, I’ll get back as soon as I can.”

“I love you.”

Instantly, I was in his arms, his mouth on mine. He kissed me until I was breathless.

“I will miss you, Autumn, and count every day until you come back to me.”

“I’ll hurry.”

He stepped back, and I knew he had to go. Our gazes held, and I saw the love we shared in them.

He picked up his coat and tugged it on, then headed for the door.

He turned when he got there. “If you take too long, I’ll come back for you.”

“Promises, promises.” I tried to smile, ignoring the tears running down my cheeks.

“Don’t test me on this.” He gripped the door handle. “I love you. Always.”

And he was gone.

Later that week, I sat in the boardroom at the office, my boss across from me. “I’m sorry?” I asked, unsure if I had heard correctly.

My boss, Marvin, smiled, crossing his ankle over his knee, looking relaxed. “I think you heard me. I understand you want to move to Scotland. We have decided we want you in that office, so we are prepared to help you with your paperwork and the Skilled Worker visa. On one condition.”

“Which is?” I asked.