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Fiona giggles, rubbing her cheek against my bare chest as she sighs.
“What if I wanted to wear lingerie?”
I frown, no idea where this conversation is coming from. Or where it’s going.
“If ye want to wear lingerie, ye should. Though ye’ll probably start a riot if ye walk down the street in that and nothing else.”
Fiona giggles softly – music to my ears. It feels like an age since I last heard her giggle.
“I don’t want to wear lingerie. It would feel like work.”
“But ye work as a waitress,” I remind her, drawing another giggle.
“I do, don’t I?” she says softly, sounding pleased. “I love you Ronan.” She rubs her cheek against my chest again. “I’m glad I let my guard down and let you in.”
“Sure, and I’m glad of that too,leannán.”
I stroke my fingers through her hair. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure she never regrets her decision.
Chapter Twenty-Six
FIONA
Yawning, I blink awake and squint through my sleepy eyelids. I take in the scene before me, but it takes a solid minute of blinking for anything to register in my fuzzy brain.
Ronan is hanging a white dress on the back of the bathroom door. And he’s dressed in a suit.
“What’s going on?” I ask sleepily, my brain still too fuzzy to develop scenarios independently. Ronan turns to me, smirking. My eyes roam over him, taking in the deliciousness that is Ronan in a suit.
“We’re getting married,” he tells me like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Uh, what? I blink at him and shrug. That makes as much sense as anything else.
“When?” I ask, stifling another yawn. Ronan smirks wider, nodding at me.
“When we get yer arse up and get dressed.”
Oh.Oh. My heart thuds, and my breath catches. Ronan is watching me intently – probably waiting for tears or squeals of excitement. Hey, I can squeal with the best of them, but I want to make him work for it. Excited squealing isn’t ourthing.
Instead, I roll my eyes at him, only just managing to resist flipping him off. I shove out of bed and head for the bathroom while Ronan says something about coffee and disappears out of the bedroom.
The second the door is closed, I press my ear up against it, waiting for his footsteps to die away. Once I’m sure he’s clear, I shove my fist into my mouth to stifle the sound and let out a wicked excited squeal. I’m getting married. To Ronan. Today. Oh. My. Stars!
Taking a breath to calm my racing heart, I shower, brush my teeth, and carefully style my hair and makeup. I wriggle into my plain white cotton panties and bra set. They’re as close as I now own to the ones I wore to Cillian’s Christening. The night I took Ronan to my bedroom.
I admire myself in the full-length mirror inside the walk-in closet when I put on the dress. There’s no way Ronan picked out this dress. And it sure wasn’t in here yesterday. Retrieving a pair of silver-heeled sandals Mellie donated to me, I strap them on, heading out of the bedroom in search of Ronan.
He’s waiting in the kitchen, and his eyes drink in the sight of me, heating up as they move from my feet to my face.
“Ye look beautiful,leannán,” he breathes as I blush.
Ronan offers me a mug of coffee, but I shake my head. I just brushed my teeth and don’t want to ruin my makeup. He shrugs, setting down the mug and retrieving a bouquet of blue flowers. Blue flowers to match my eyes. Yeah, Ronan didn’t pick those either.
He doesn’t say anything, smirking as my eyes narrow on him. So I don’t say anything either. Two can play at that game.
We head to the courthouse in his SUV. I’m unsurprised to see Mellie and Niall waiting for us, dressed up nicely. Mellie’s eyes dart over my dress and flowers. Yep. She was in on this and picked out my things. When my eyes narrow on her, she grins impishly and shrugs.
“It’s your turn now,” she giggles when I make it to her side. I roll my eyes.
