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“Loudly?” I question, my cheeks burning.
“Loudly,” she replies with a grin.
“Oh God,” I reply, wincing.
“There’s that name again. You know us fellas might get a complex if you women keep shouting out his name whenever you’re feeling emotional,” Beast says as he steps into the room looking very suave in a pair of black trousers, shiny black dress shoes and a crisp white shirt.
“Would you prefer if we cried out to Jesus?” Grim asks, striding over to him and straightening his tie.
He gives her a wide grin then plants a kiss on her newly painted lips, that gets hot and heavy in less than two seconds flat. “Babe, given the choice I’d have you crying outmyname at every damn moment,” Beast replies, smirking, his lips stained red.
Grim swipes her thumb over his mouth. “Well if you’re lucky, I’ll be hollering your name all night long later. We’ve got to dosomethingto drown out this lot because I have a feeling it’s gonna get noisy.”
“Just remember to close the door whilst you’re getting down and dirty, I don’t need to see Beast’s hairy arse again,” Christy adds with a smirk.
“You’ve seen Beast’s arse?” I whisper, eyes wide.
“It was in a vision, so it doesn’t bloody count,” Beast says, pointing a finger at Christy. “Not to mention the fact that I donothave a hairy arse. This beauty is fuzz free.” He slaps his arse to make a point.
Christy giggles, cutting a look at Grim who bursts out laughing. It’s so contagious that I can’t help but join in until we’re all laughing at Beast, who is scowling with his thick arms crossed against his chest.
“Oh love, we’re just joking around. Come here…Gorilla,” Grim whispers loudly enough for us to hear. We all burst out laughing again.
“I’ll give you bloodyGorillas in the Mistin a minute when you see the back of me and my hairy arse as I head out to the jetty and bugger off to the mainland if you lot carry on the way you are,” Beast replies with a surly expression, which only makes us laugh even more.
It feels good to laugh. To joke around with friends who are fast becoming family.
“What’s so funny?” Lorcan says as he steps into the room, then gasps as his gaze lands on me. “Cyn, you’re… Fuck me, you’restunning.”
“Get out!” Christy shrieks, “You’re not supposed to see Cyn before the wedding. It’s bad luck!”
“Bad luck my arse,” Lorcan replies, striding over to me. He stops short, just a step away looking breathtaking in a tailored suit the colour of the deepest ocean. His hair is styled in a curtain that flops over his right eye in a way that makes me want to tug on the strands and kiss him stupid.
“You don’t believe in bad luck?” I whisper, completely oblivious to anyone else in the room now that he’s here and looking at me like I’m the life sustaining oxygen that he needs to breathe.
“I believe inusmore than anything,” he replies, lifting his hand to cup my cheek. “Look at you.”
His thumb caresses my cheek before he lowers his mouth to mine and brushes a tender kiss over my lips. I can’t help it, my fingers find the lapel of his jacket and I pull him closer, kissing him back deeply. As we kiss, the love I feel blossoms inside my chest, the petals of our friendship have already grown into something everlasting, now the roots take hold spreading through the very heart of me, forming unbreakable foundations.
We kiss for an eternity, yet not long enough, until Christy clears her throat, and we pull apart reluctantly.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she says, looking between us. “But I think it’s probably time we head down to the chapel.”
“To getmarried,” Lorcan adds in wonder, wrapping his fingers around mine and giving me the sweetest, most goofiest grin ever.
“That’s right, lover boy,” Beast says with a laugh. “Look at you all love-drunk on that kiss.”
“Don’t forget, I’ve got my gun with me.”
“Your gun?” I frown.
“Tattoo gun,” Beast replies with a wink. “A little dickybird tells me you need three tiny butterflies tattooed onto your wedding ring finger.”
I gasp. “So it’syouwho tattoos my finger? I always wondered.”
“I guess so.” He smiles broadly.
“When?”
